23-Mar-2004
Title: Degrees of Separation
Chapter: 6
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: NC-17
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 Six
The last time Watari had seriously slept had been that night with Tatsumi, two full days prior. It had only been for a couple of hours and though restful at the time, it had been quickly wiped away by the strain of meeting up with Muraki again. There had been the sheer physical exertion of engaging in strenuous, if highly pleasurable, sex, no less than four times in rapid success. Then there was chasing all over Kyoto looking for Muraki, expending magical energy gating from place to place, and also escorting the boy back to Meifu and then gating back to Earth, all in a short amount of time. And there had been the mental and emotional strain.
That was the most draining and had helped tip the physically spent shinigami into a deep, dreamless sleep. He didn't so much as move from his spot on the large bed until the sun was high in the sky, streaming through the window and bathing the room in a soft golden color. It wasn't until one of the sun's beams began to shine its light right into Watari's eyes that the scientist stirred with a groan, squirming in an attempt to escape the pesky light.
But the damage was done. No sooner did his mind wake up enough to turn his head into the pillow that it dawned on him that he was not in Meifu, because in Meifu his room was deep within his lab with only a north facing window. Sunbeams never bothered him, no matter what time of day he was napping. Startling awake, Watari pushed himself up on his arms, his long hair tossed across his face in a haphazard manner, interfering with his vision as he whipped his head around, looking at his surroundings.
"Duh?"
It was then that other sensations assaulted him. The winter sun through the glass was warm on his bare shoulders, reminding him of his naked state beneath the bedclothes. Though he healed rapidly, there was no denying that muscles ached in delicious reminder of the activities from the night before and his throat was still a touch raw from the abuse it had taken. Leaning on one elbow, Watari looked around the room, eyes squinting in an attempt to bring focus to his myopic vision, but it was his ears which provided the information he was looking for.
He was alone.
Groaning softly, the blond fell back on the bed and lay there, staring up at the heavy beams of the ceiling. It wasn't that he honestly expected Muraki to have stayed... in fact he somehow doubted the doctor had even slept. Still, without Muraki there to provide a distraction, Watari felt the angry buzz of his own thoughts closing in on him and he shook his head back and forth on the mattress, trying to push them back, just for a little while longer.
Deciding that movement was the best defense, Watari kicked the bedclothes down to the end of the mattress and got to his feet. Stretching, nude, he winced as annoyed muscles pulled and flexed. Shaking his limbs to help encourage the blood to move to the strained spots, the young shinigami began to hunt for his glasses. He didn't need to look far. Muraki had left them on the bedside table. Laying his fingers lightly on the rims, Watari's mouth quirked in an enigmatic expression, wondering if it had been the last thing Muraki had done before leaving.
The spectacles remained silently unhelpful.
Picking them up, Watari set them on his nose and blinked a couple of times as his world came into focus. Walking around the end of the bed, he headed to the antique looking straight-backed chair on which he could see his neatly folded clothes. Pulling on the shirt, he left it unbuttoned as he shook out his jeans and wiggled into them, chuckling at himself as he carefully did up the zipper and buttons.
With the shirt still unbuttoned, Watari walked to the bathroom, turning on the same small light Muraki had activated the night before. Going to the sink the young shinigami turned on the faucets and let cool water fill the basin. Perching his glasses on the top of his head, he dipped his hands into the water and splashed it up over his face a couple of times. Holding his fingers over his features, letting the cool liquid dribble down his neck and chest, Watari slowly lowered his hands and looked at himself in the mirror.
A pale, fine boned face with amber eyes that seemed too large for the slender features they were set in, looked back at him. His lips were swollen to a sensual pout from the kissing, and his neck carried soft hints of bruising not just from the hand which had nearly throttled him the night before, but also from the doctor's clever mouth.
Watari chuckled at his reflection, whispering. "I look just like what I am. A man who has been thoroughly debauched and who enjoyed every minute of it."
Smacking his hands down on either side of the basin, gripping the edges hard enough to make his knuckles crack, Watari hung his head.
"What in the name of Enma am I doing? I don't think I know anymore."
Exhaling a deep breath, Watari forced himself to look back up into the mirror. His lips twitched as he took in the completely disheveled state of his hair. He'd be hours trying to tame the long strands. Reaching up and pulling his glasses back down onto his face, Watari emptied the basin, turned out the light, and left the bathroom.
Padding barefoot out to the main room of the bungalow, Watari finished buttoning up his shirt when the scent of tea tickled his nostrils and drew the shinigami over to the low table upon which the stew tureen had sat the night before. The tureen and bowls were gone, but in their place sat a tray with a teapot wrapped in a cozy, and a bowl of fresh fruit, some toast and a few other light breakfast items. Touching the items, Watari grinned wryly.
"I wonder if Muraki, knowing I eat lightly, ordered this, or if Oriya prepared it."
Knowing the silent walls of the bungalow were not going to answer him, Watari reached and poured himself a cup of tea, a little surprised to find that it was still quite warm. Picking up a pear to go with his tea, the scientist moved to the rocking chair and sat down, setting it to rock as he nibbled on the pear and sipped at the tea.
He needed to get back to Meifu, not linger over breakfast, yet somehow Watari couldn't make himself dash away. Staring down into the ashes of the fire from the night before, the young shinigami started picking through the nearly overwhelming bits of information that had been collecting in his brain.
"There is more going on here than I ever imagined when I started this." Watari spoke quietly to himself, rocking gently. "This is about more than just the mental process of a psychopath. What he said about Saki... the crystal... yes... the crystal, why was I so surprised by that? Did I not do something similar when I called the memory of Hazama-sensei to Enma's crystal ball?"
Elbow perched on the arm of the chair, Watari fell silent as he rocked, chin perched in his upturned hand. His thoughts once again danced in front of him like wisps of mist determined to confound him. He knew he needed to talk to someone about what he was doing... about what had happened, but Watari couldn't remember a time when he felt so isolated from everyone he knew and trusted.
Sighing, the young shinigami finished off his breakfast and stood up. Laying the empty tea cup and pear rind back on the tray, he caught sight of a note, which had been set on the tray. Picking it up he recognized the bold, graceful characters immediately.
Muraki.
~Enjoy your breakfast. If you need anything ask Oriya and he will provide it.~
Watari's lips twitched slightly and he set the note back down on the tray. "What I need, Oriya cannot provide, I'm afraid."
Walking towards the front door to get his socks, Watari sat down in the chair, which was set in front of a large, antique desk. Tugging on first one sock, than the other, the ever curious shinigami took note of a book, laid open on the otherwise bare surface. Socks on, Watari cocked his head at the book then reached for it.
Thumb holding the place it had been open to, Watari tilted the book so he could read the spine. He didn't recognize the title, but the subtitle said something about 'theoretical magic'. Lips twitching with amusement, the shinigami began to flip through the pages, reading bits and pieces of the book, laughter drawn from him as he took in some of the truly off the wall theories the authors were presenting.
About to put the book back down, Watari went to open it back to the place he'd been holding when the word 'symbiotic' jumped out at him. Lifting a pale brow, Watari lay the book down on its spine and began to read more of the page it had been left open to. This section of the book was primarily discussing the idea of how to create a 'familiar' through the use of science - genetic engineering - as well as arcane magics. It was still a little off the mark and wildly speculative, but as he read on, Watari's quick mind began to put some pieces together.
One of the points made by the book was the idea that a symbiotic familiar would need to be supplied energy from a life force, that the smaller the familiar, the more vulnerable it would be when not in direct contact with a sustaining energy supply. Something Muraki had said began to weasel its way out of the chaotic tumble of thoughts.
~"If that's the case, you've destroyed it."~
Watari blinked and his fingers tapped lightly against the pages of the book. They'd been talking about the ribbon, his active little passenger who currently resided in the box with the doll, back in Meifu. Watari felt his curiosity perk further and he stood up from the desk. Leaving the book behind, he moved towards the door and stepped into his shoes. Grabbing his long coat and pulling it on, the young shinigami turned and looked around the neatly kept bungalow, silently wondering if he would ever understand what had happened in within its walls in the past two nights.
Giving his head a shake, Watari opened the door and stepped out into the garden. The cool winter air brushed his face and he paused to take a couple deep breaths of Earth's unique, living scent... then he took a step, speaking the gating spell as he moved forward, disappearing from the mortal world.
Watari's next breath drew in the scent of sakura petals in full bloom. Eyes closed, he let the warm, temperate breeze of Meifu's constant atmosphere wash across his features like a soothing stroke of a mother's hand. He stood there quietly for a couple of minutes, before opening his eyes and giving himself a shake. Stepping away from the tree he'd gated in next to, the blond trotted across the open pathway towards the building in which his lab was housed.
It was close to lunchtime and many of the Shokan Division's denizens were out in the back garden, enjoying their afternoon tea. This meant that Watari was able to make it to his lab without running into anyone he had to talk to. Pushing his way through the door, ducking out of his coat in a whirlwind of motion, the young scientist was taken aback as a bundle of warm feathers nearly smacked right into his face.
"Bah! 003!!!! Alright, alright... it's good to see you baby but.. not the nose, not the nose!"
He reached up to catch the little owl and move her to his shoulder, but she settled there only for a moment before taking off with a distressed hoot.
"What? I thought you wanted to... oh... oh... I'm sorry. Just give me a couple of minutes and I'll get cleaned up... again."
His little companion hooted, worriedly this time, and flew close beside his head but she still refused to alight on his shoulder. Watari looked at his owl friend with sad eyes and a corner of his lip quirked upwards.
"I know... I'm sorry... I'm... I'm sorry."
It was all he could think to say before he ducked his head and moved towards the room where he was keeping the doll. 003 stayed close, chattering to him soothingly as he pulled the box down and walked back into the lab. Setting the box on a low counter, he flipped open the lid with his hands and pulled a low stool close with one foot.
Sitting down on the stool, he carefully shuffled the tissue paper aside until he could see the doll and the ribbon laid across the doll's chest. Giving the piece of apparently silk fabric a small nudge with his finger, he was not surprised when it didn't move. Biting his lower lip thoughtfully, Watari reached and picked the ribbon up, laying it out across his hands.
Still, it didn't move.
Rubbing his thumb across the slip of fabric, the young shinigami frowned thoughtfully. He remembered what he'd read in the book and turned the ribbon back and forth curiously in his hand. He knew that if this was in fact a construct of Muraki's, and it had to be, that he should put it back down in the box and leave it to be destroyed. But for some reason, Watari found himself taking the limp piece of fabric and curling it up in one of his hands. With the other hand, he traced a pattern in the air, speaking softly the words he used to send animating magical energy towards his own constructs. The theories were close to the same and he wondered if his energy would be enough to revive the little ribbon.
When he finished, he studied the strip of fabric, but saw no movement from the ribbon. Biting his lower lip, Watari pushed the sleeve of his shirt up and after a moment's thought, he began to wind the ribbon around his bare skin.
~I should be destroying this thing... not trying to revive it!~ Watari thought to himself furiously, though he didn't stop winding the ribbon up along his arm until he had it neatly tied off at his wrist.
Looking at the ribbon one last time, the scientist pulled his sleeve down over his arm and turned to meet the curious gaze of his owl.
"Don't ask... I don't know what I'm doing." Watari said to her reaching to scritch her between her ear tuffs, pleasantly surprised when she didn't fly away from his touch.
Smiling... more grateful than he realized he could feel, Watari stroked his hand down across his little friend's whole body. Exhaling deeply, he sat back against the counter and stared across the large lab towards his chaotic desk. He jumped when a moment later the soft, melodic voice of his partner echoed from the doorway.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Yutaka... because I very much desire to know what you're doing."
~ * ~
Watari's head snapped around towards the doorway and he felt the blood leave his face as he saw Tatsumi standing there. Suddenly, extremely aware of his disheveled appearance, Watari exhaled a deep breath, his shoulders slumping slightly, and he turned all the way on the stool to face Tatsumi, looking across the expanse of the lab towards his partner.
"Good... afternoon, Tatsumi. I didn't hear you come in, I'm sorry."
The Secretary crossed his arms over his chest. "Perhaps if you'd heard me, you might have found a way to be somewhere else, is that a possibility?" He came in and shut the door. "It's still going to have to be answered, sooner or later, Yutaka."
Watari winced as Tatsumi's words struck home but he didn't dispute them. How could he? They were true and now it was time for him to face up to his actions. Leaning, arms along his thighs, hands clasped between his knees, he stared up at Tatsumi and nodded.
"Yes, you're right. Umm... please, sit down. I ... we need to talk."
It was sooner, perhaps, than Watari had wanted the conversation to happen. He would have liked a chance to get a shower, get changed, at least look his normal self before trying to explain how unlike himself he was becoming.
Instead of sitting, Tatsumi leaned against one of the tables, keeping his arms folded. It was a somewhat forbidding posture. "I've seen the report you submitted to Konoe. It leaves out more than it explains. I'm very interested to hear what additional investigation you did, and what your results were. I presume it will justify the additional expense of the extra day and night."
Reaching up a slender hand to push his tousled hair back, Watari looked directly into Tatsumi's face. He was unaware of how his eyes once again seemed too large for his pale features even though the usual fire and spark in them was muted by the presence of shadows.
Lowering his hand, the young shinigami stood up and moved to a counter across from Tatsumi. He leaned back on the counter and folded his arms over his chest, unconsciously mirroring Tatsumi's pose, but where the shadow-master looked forbidding, Watari looked small.
"There won't be an expense report for the extra day. I didn't spend anything."
He gave Tatsumi a little grin. "I'm actually under budget for the case as a whole, you should be..." He stopped the automatic words with a snap of his teeth and shook his head, lowering his eyes to stare at the neatly kept floor of his lab.
"Seiichirou... I really need to talk to someone. I really need to talk to my... friend. Do you think we can do that?"
Tatsumi reached up and adjusted his glasses. His posture lost a little of its rigidity even though he left his arms folded over his chest. "All you had to do was remember you had one, Yutaka."
Watari peeked back up at the shadow-master and his lips curved upwards in an affectionate smile that lasted for a few beats of his heart, then it slowly fell away. Pushing away from the counter, his hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans, the blond began to pace.
"This... this is not going to be easy for me to try to explain... and I don't know that it will be... easy for you to listen to."
Reaching the a point a few feet away from Tatsumi, Watari turned and looked over his shoulder at his partner.
"I was investigating Muraki. He turned up at the hospital in Kyoto... in fact... the case in Kyoto was his manipulation to call me there."
Tatsumi didn't react. In fact, the total lack of reaction suggested nothing so much as that he had known that much already.
"I should have followed my first impulse and sent Tsuzuki with you," he said.
Watari shook his head almost before the words cleared Tatsumi's lips, "Then Muraki would have had both of us within his reach. No... that would... that would not have been good. Muraki has not completely... Tsuzuki is still keen in his mind, it would not be good for him to have Tsuzuki within reach."
The young shinigami was pacing as he spoke, and as he moved a vicious, nasty little thought sprang out of his mind and lunged for his throat.
~Are you saying that because you believe it, Yutaka, or are you saying it because then you would have had to share Muraki's attention?~
The thought caused Watari to physically flinch as if struck and he took a step back shaking his head almost violently just to shut that little voice up.
Holding up a hand, towards Tatsumi, finger raised, asking for a moment, Watari took a deep breath and got his attention back on what he was doing. Still now, laying his hand across his mouth, he looked across the edge of his palm at his partner, grabbed the edge of the proverbial bandage and ripped it open.
"Me. That was the deal when we faced Yatonogami. I offered him the ability to reanimate his brother as payment but he wasn't interested in that deal... so a new one was bartered. His assistance... his... focused.... assistance... in exchange for me," there was a pause and Watari swallowed, finding the words hard to speak, "in bed."
Already still, Tatsumi seemed momentarily to turn into a piece of sculptured stone.
The unnatural stillness lasted for about twenty seconds. Then Watari saw Tatsumi's chest move in a deep breath. He stood up, reaching up a second time to his glasses, his hand staying over his face. He turned around and faced the table, back to Watari. "Did you really think you were keeping that such a perfect secret?" he said without turning around, his voice slightly muffled. He straightened without turning around. "You knew I wouldn't agree with that. You chose to do it anyway, a decision which... our... friendship... does not allow me any reason to argue with."
Watari couldn't move. He stood in place, knees locked and arms once again closed over his chest as he watched Tatsumi, listening to the older man's words. The blond looked saddened when Tatsumi mentioned the part about keeping it a secret... and the reminder that he'd done something he knew his partner would never have agreed with, even had the deal remained the original one.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Watari continued in a surprisingly steady voice. In his mind he'd given up the right to be missish at this point.
"I... tried to keep it secret, yes. I knew that you wouldn't agree with me. I knew it was almost impossible for you to agree to have Muraki there but by that point... I was desperate. We were losing, Tatsumi, and I thought I was losing you as well. So, yes... I did what I felt was expedient and I got in over my head."
Forcing himself into motion, Watari didn't go near Tatsumi but paced back and forth in a small circuit between the head of the tables.
"The game began almost immediately, with minor encounters while we came up with a plan. I was prepared... I thought... for what I needed to do, what I needed to be on the lookout for with the Sensei but... he found a weakness in my strategy and used it to advantage, and soon I found myself playing a very different game."
Watari fell silent for a couple of steps, pausing and tilting his head to the side thoughtfully, "though... I wonder if he's not also... unsure of what the game is anymore himself." This last bit was spoken almost to himself.
Coming to the edge of the far table, Watari leaned his hip against it and looked at Tatsumi's broad back. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his chin and continued.
"I fulfilled my end of the original deal, three days after the death of Yatonogami."
Tatsumi remained with his back to the room. After a rather long silence, he spoke, his voice tightly controlled. "But that wasn't the end of it." It was a question, but it was also the answer, an easy conclusion given where Watari had just been.
Watari felt his heart kick in his chest and a fine trembling seemed to want to take over his muscles but he crushed the weakness back furiously. At first, he shook his head, then remembered Tatsumi couldn't see him.
"No. I thought it was... I *meant* it to be... but then I got back with that box... and that doll, and I realized it wasn't the end, because while we'd been playing the game, I'd started to see... parts of this madman which fascinated me... parts which... seemed to demand I continue to look further. That doll... the way a young child's hand tried to fix it... brought all that into sharp focus and I... I couldn't get Muraki to leave my mind."
Taking a breath, Watari was once again in motion. "I figured, I'd do a little poking around here in Meifu. See if I could answer the questions which had taken up residence in my head. I did not expect him to show up in this case. I certainly didn't expect him to... *call* me. For all I knew, the night in Tokyo was the end of it and what I was investigating was... smoke and mirrors. But that... was not the case."
Now at the head of the other table, Watari unfolded his arms and set them, palms down on the top of the counter, leaning there heavily.
"He manufactured that situation. I don't know... perhaps we should be curious at the fact that he choose a method which did not involve murders. In fact, Oriya Mibu had a few words for me... and he let slip that there have been no recent murders by Muraki's hands which Mibu-san has had to cover up."
"That could be nothing more than another trick to create just the kind of doubt you suggest." Tatsumi's voice continued to be controlled, low, but it was slowly getting cooler, not with rejection, but simply because being cool was what he had to be to continue to listen.
Still braced on the counter, Watari nodded. "Yes... perhaps. But, there is more."
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, the young shinigami tried to ignore the way the surface of the counter blurred, not from tears but just from the way his mind was making everything feel... surreal.
"He... Muraki... that night, in Tokyo... he could have throttled me but he didn't. He's had... three more chances... and he's stopped himself three other times."
Watari fought to find the words, without sharing with Tatsumi more detail than anyone could possibly be expected to handle.
"I know... I know that there is every reason why I... I don't know. Every reason why I should walk away... hell, run away from this, but for every reason, there is... he does something which counters it. And it gets even more confusing. I mean... Tatsumi, did you never ask yourself, how he was able to withstand the flames of Touda's fire? How he escaped your shadows? How he was able to kill Yatonogami? Even this most recent case... he held off the boy's death by capturing the soul in a crystal... not unlike how I grabbed Hazama-sensei's memories up into Enma's crystal ball. Even without his words... I look at the hard evidence in front of me and I can not dismiss this."
As he spoke, as the words came tumbling out of his mouth, as all the thoughts... the evidence careened together, Watari spoke faster and faster as if trying to keep one step ahead of the cascading mess.
"How?" Tatsumi repeated Watari's question, his voice taking on only a hint of cynicism. "The devil's luck." He shook his head slowly, not so much in denial, rather as if he were trying to shake off a thought. Finally he turned around. His hand lowered from his face.
"I know you, Yutaka. Once you feel you have a mystery, you won't let go until you find the answer... or until you blow something up." He took a breath and let it out. "Just be sure what you blow up this time isn't... isn't your spirit." Then he moved, slowly, almost stiffly, until he was standing beside Watari, only a small distance between them. "I don't know the answers you are looking for. And for myself, I don't care. He can keep his inconsistencies, and rot in one of the hells with them. Sooner rather than later." There was a pause, and then Tatsumi's hand touched just the side of Watari's hand. It might almost have been an accident. "However I am not going to permit you to run down this tunnel alone."
Then he said, even more softly, "Unless you said beyond a doubt that this is what you want."
Watari couldn't suppress the minute trembling in his whole body as he listened to Tatsumi's words. The light touch of Tatsumi's hand against his own drew the young shinigami's eyes like a magnet and he stared at his partner's long, strong fingers and felt woefully confused.
He lifted his gaze to Tatsumi's face, the expression raw but also stable, "The kindest thing I could do right now is tell you, yes... that's what I want, because I can not look you in the eye and deny that I have tangled myself up with this devil and I don't know how to untangle myself except to solve this mystery... and to solve it... I need to use... maybe I need to use too much, Seiichirou. Maybe... if I get through this... I don't know what I'll have left, to give you."
Tatsumi stilled again, that odd, unnatural stillness. As if he were becoming one of his shadows. It didn't last as long this time, though.
"Maybe nothing," he said, his voice so devoid of emphasis that it was almost mechanical. "But..." He turned a little so he could face Watari, lifting his hand to brush fingertips lightly over Watari's cheek, "It's still possible that I will have something to give you."
Holding himself perfectly still as Tatsumi spoke, the light touch of his partner's hand on his cheek drew Watari's head around to face Tatsumi and he turned to rest his head very carefully in the shadow-master's palm.
"I keep... swinging... like a pendulum... between being resolute in my decision and being... totally ashamed of myself."
Maybe the words didn't mean much, but it felt... good to be able to finally admit them, to someone other than his own reflection.
Tatsumi kept his hand still, then after a moment he lowered it. "If you are doing it, there's no point in feeling shame over it. I don't like it, don't expect me to encourage you. But even that amount of recklessness is not a reason for... for shame." Then after another pause he said, "If there is some other reason for that feeling, warn me before you confess."
Watari watched that hand drop away and he almost reached for it but then Tatsumi was speaking, drawing the young shinigami's eyes back to his face. After a moment of silence had fallen... Watari chuffed... then he chuckled... then he began to laugh, a sharp, hysterical sound.
Stumbling away from Tatsumi, Watari retreated towards a counter covered in test tubes... and he whirled back towards his partner, eyes bright.
"No point in feeling shame? I'm sorry, Tatsumi but I have to disagree with you. I think there is every point in feeling it. I think there is every point in being extremely confused and angry with myself because... how the hell... how the hell!" Watari yelled smacking his hand down on the counter hard enough to make the test tubes jump. "How the hell can I be engaging in a sexual relationship with Muraki, when I'm in love with you!"
Snapping his teeth hard after he spoke the words, obviously wishing he'd closed his mouth before they escaped, Watari spun with a curse and lashed out. Just once, but it sent a rack of test tubes smashing up against the far wall, the tempered glass shattering under the impact, which startled 003 who decided that Watari's neck was the safest spot in the lab at the moment.
Just as quickly, 003 jumped up from Watari's neck as if she'd been stung.
At the same moment, however, Tatsumi's stillness had ended with a sharp precise moment so contained it was violent. His long fingers reached up and pulled his glasses off his face and threw them onto a table, where they skittered into other equipment.
Oblivious to the flapping, squawking owl, Tatsumi crossed the lab in three steps, settled his hands around Watari's shoulders and then proceeded to give him three, sharp shakes.
"You're..." he began through grit teeth.
Then his eyes widened, focusing on the small open edge of Watari's collar. "What the HELL?"
His blood pounding in his ears, Watari didn't hear the glasses skitter across the counter and he almost jumped when Tatsumi's hands closed on his shoulders, shaking him. His mouth was opening to answer, when his partner's exclamation froze the words in his throat.
Still holding Watari by one shoulder, Tatsumi reached up and pulled the neck of the flannel shirt open, sacrificing a button. His eyes stared at the scientist's throat, the expression slowly freezing on his features.
Remembering the night before... the tub... Muraki's mouth moving silently against his neck... the warm tingle... Watari groaned and reached out a hand to grab a small beaker full of mercury to use as a make shift mirror, holding it up as he tried to see what Tatsumi saw.
The distorted surface only showed him a red glow around his neck, the details lost. It was not an unfamiliar red glow. It resembled the designs Hisoka still wore on his skin.
Surprisingly, Watari took this calmly. He turned and set the beaker back down on the counter, carefully so as not to shatter the glass and risk spreading the deadly liquid within.
"I should have expected this... it makes sense," he said softly, his eyes unfocused for a moment, his features arranged in a deeply contemplative manner, the way he looked when he was focused on an experiment. Perhaps it was more chilling this time, because the experiment was himself.
After a moment though, he looked up at Tatsumi, his eyes moving across his partner's bare face, caught and held by those intense sapphire blue eyes. He didn't know what would happen next... so he used the time he had to confess.
"Yes. I've been in love with you for... almost since I first came to the division, but you still needed to sort through your love for Tsuzuki and the friendship of both you, and Tsuzuki was too important to risk over jealousy... so I made myself...stop wanting you that way, at least I thought I had. Then... Hisoka came... and Tsuzuki... and you looked ready to move on and we were working together... and it all came back... and all I could think was to protect the man I was in love with. Of all the times for my logic to fail me."
The hand that had fallen away from Watari's shoulder returned and Tatsumi gave him another two sharp shakes.
"Be quiet," the shadow-master said, the two words a calm, if somewhat strained, order.
He backed Watari up until he was against a wall of the lab. "003," he said. "Tuck your head."
003 was an infinitely wise little owl, and at that moment she felt herself rather superior to her human when it came to the subject of common sense. Taking off for one of the other rooms, she disappeared completely.
Bending, Tatsumi kissed Watari, pausing just before his lips met the blond's, then coming down on them. It started forcefully, then became momentarily savage. And finally, it ended with thorough efficiency.
Lifting his head, and none too quickly, Tatsumi said, "You really do talk too much, and you wait until a time like this to say something you ought to have said before."
Watari, uncertain what Tatsumi's reaction might be, was not expecting to be pressed up against the wall of his lab and kissed with such... complete authority. His lips parted slightly in a gasp of surprise when Tatsumi's warm, forceful mouth landed on his and for a moment, he was surrounded and engulfed by his partner. He could feel the heat of Tatsumi's body, smell the wool of the shadow-master's finely tailored suit, the soft scent of Tatsumi's very simple, yet efficient aftershave. But before he could properly kiss Tatsumi back, the man's head lifted and he spoke and Watari could only lay his head back against the wall and shake it gently.
"I couldn't risk your... pity." He kept his answer short and to the point, not rambling as he had a habit of doing.
"You should have," Tatsumi answered, not allowing an inch. He bent and kissed Watari one more time, as if to make sure the blond shinigami understood who was in charge.
"As your punishment, you now have to settle this mess. And don't expect me to wait for an indefinite amount of time. If you don't complete your research, I will be forced to complete it for you." Tatsumi looked down at Watari, his face oddly direct without the glasses, and added, "I'm not going to make the same mistakes I made before. Not even... not even for you. I'm a bit over-tired of spending every night with my ledgers."
Watari felt himself taking quick shallow breaths as he studied his partner's face and his lips parted to answer, when he remembered Tatsumi's words about talking too much... and really... what could he say? He could make some sort of promise... and then find himself in a position of being unable to keep it. The absolutes he wanted to give the shadow-master were not his to give.
Standing there... Watari suddenly moved. Grabbing the back of Tatsumi's head with one hand and the lapel of his suit coat with the other, he braced himself and pulled the older shinigami's head down to meet his in a kiss that was passionate... furious... desperate... and full of unspoken wants, desires and needs. Nearly three decades of them.
Parting his lips, he kissed Tatsumi thoroughly as his answer to the Kagetsukai's declaration.
Tatsumi allowed him to have his way long enough to express his emotions. Then he simply... took control back, once again leaving Watari in need of air.
Finally Tatsumi lifted his head. His eyes focused on the arcane markings on Watari's neck. "I want a full report as to what *that* is," he said, his tone recapturing his official authority. "I want a full report as to what happened during your mission and afterwards. I want them on my desk by this evening. If they do not appear, I will come to get them. Clear?"
Watari rested against the wall, taking in quick breaths and watching Tatsumi's intense eyes. He mentally tried to skim down which details he could leave out of the report, for the sake of... what would be gratuitous verses what was actually important. Even trimming it down, he couldn't help closing his eyes and wincing slightly, his voice soft as he said, "Then consider yourself warned, now... as to what I will have to put in those reports."
A firm hand tilted Watari's head up. Blue eyes met his directly. "I expect you to be complete," Tatsumi said. "And don't concern yourself over my sensibilities. I have been in existence a long time and it's possible I've forgotten a few things even you don't know, in the area of human physical relations."
Still, Watari couldn't help thinking about what he was going to have to put in that report and as easy at it would be to just... write it down and leave it as a file on Tatsumi's desk, retreating while the man read and absorbed it, the young shinigami found he couldn't take that route. Despite how distasteful the words sounded as he spoke them, in a calm, direct manner.
"He usually restrains me, because for some reason when he is... pleasured... but not occupied by actual intercourse, he becomes homicidal. Sometimes, even during intercourse. He put his hands around my neck the first time, as he fucked me, but for some reason didn't follow through. He drove his cock to the back of my throat shutting off my airway, one time, holding me to keep me from reacting... but then he relented. This..." Watari touched his neck, "The last time, I played the game deep, experimenting with something and when we were both... climaxing, he closed his hand around my throat and throttled me till I was nearly unconscious... but released me just shy of it. That's how he got close enough to my neck to leave these marks later. It's been part of the game."
A cold fire seemed to dance in Tatsumi's eyes but his face never reacted. "I didn't imagine that sex with that monster was all kisses and Missionary position," he said. He regarded Watari for a moment. "When this is over, you should tell me if you liked it. You should tell me, if you want to experience it again."
A shuddered breath ran through Watari because though the easy answer would be to scream no, no that he didn't like it, it would also be a lie.. a very grievous lie as his body was already shivering slightly beneath the memories. Still, Tatsumi had asked for the answer to that question, after it was all over...
~I wonder if I'll be in one piece when it's all over?~ Watari thought to himself.
Head against the wall, he gave it a small shake. "There is one more thing you need to know... from me... from my lips directly. You didn't ask what flaw he found in my strategy, but I need to tell you. I was prepared for pain... for humiliation... degradation... death even. Those I was prepared for, what I wasn't prepared for was... kindness... attentiveness... care... and a ... strange sort of gentleness in Death's hands. No... that I wasn't prepared for at all."
Tatsumi listened, since this seemed important to Watari to say. "You've said it, and I heard it. If there is anything else, you can tell me later, or put it in the report." He took Watari's chin, and then rubbed his thumb over the scientist's lower lip. "I'm not going to allow you to leave me out of this now. That's what *you* need to understand."
Words, knee-jerk words, jumped to the tip of Watari's tongue but by Enma's mercy the scientist was able to choke back on them before they could pass his lips. His eyes met and held Tatsumi's and he exhaled a deep breath.
"I'll... get started on the reports. I think Mother's database should help me with translating these markings. If not, I'll detail out what steps I'll need to take to decipher them."
It was hard to retreat back to the ground of *work* especially now that the words had started to come, but Watari made himself do it. He needed to write the reports Tatsumi was asking for, in a logical, detached manner, so Tatsumi could review the facts he needed to see.
Tatsumi's thumb brushed across Watari's lower lip one more time. Then he bent and kissed Watari, as if making sure that no matter how business-like they might return to being, that the scientist would not forget that things were not ever going to be the same.
Then he released Watari and stepped back, turning to retrieve his glasses from the table. Fortunately, they were not cracked.
Watari's eyes closed as he felt Tatsumi's warm mouth against his own, felt his partner's soft breath tickling the corner of his mouth and the strong fingers on his chin. He chased Tatsumi, just a fraction of an inch when the shadow-master went to straighten but relented, staying still... leaning against the wall as he watched the dark haired shinigami retrieve his glasses.
The corners of Watari's mouth twitched upwards in a gentle little grin as he watched Tatsumi check the lenses carefully to make certain they weren't cracked.
"You... I've been after you for years to get plastic lenses... really, they are just as good and infinitely more durable."
This from a man who blew his own glasses up on almost a regular basis.
"They're too light," Tatsumi said, for the fiftieth time. Then he placed them on his face, glanced at Watari, nodded, and left.
It was an old argument, almost a well known dance, like getting a cup of coffee in a small kitchen with your partner and not bumping into each other and it helped steady the blond shinigami's taut nerves.
But not by much.
Pushing away from the wall, resting a hand on the counter tops to help his balance as he made his way to his desk, Watari paused by one counter and pulled open a drawer. Rummaging around in it he grew more and more agitated until finally he called out.
"003! Where is my durn..."
At the sound of her name, the tiny owl came flying out of the other room. She flew a low pattern, weighted down by the small, portable mirror clenched in her talons.
"Oh, yes... perfect. Exactly what I needed."
Watari reached to take the mirror, completing his path to the computer. Sitting down, he booted the computer up out of its hibernation mode and began to tap in his password.
003, deciding that there was enough of Tatsumi's cologne on Watari to blot out the other, distrusted scent, and also figuring her human really needed her, settled on Watari's shoulder, beaking gently through his hair.
Smiling, he left the computer to connect to Mother's database, it always took a normal computer time to catch up with the hybrid supercomputer. One hand brushed over 003's feathers in a grateful stroke, before dropping to pull his shirt open a little further, getting a better look at his neck.
"No wonder he wouldn't say. I suppose I should be furious but... I let him do this... I let him do... anything he wanted."
The computer gave him a soft beep and he looked to the monitor, nodding to himself and lowering the mirror so he could use both hands. Fingers flying at inhuman speed over the keys he began to try to access the data he figured he needed.
"Alright, first things first. Get an answer to what Kazutaka has placed around my neck... then work on those reports."
Watari's face was grim as he once again began to sift through what he would and wouldn't be putting into the report. He knew that he was going to have to detail out the sexual encounters to an extent, because they had each been... informative, and he needed it to be clear that he had been... willing... active even... with an explanation as to why. Maybe he could at least spare Tatsumi the stroke for stroke details.
~ * ~
Once he began working on weaving his way through the complex system that was the firewall to Mother's database, Watari felt his mind calm and his focus return. This was what he was good at. Research, taking a puzzle and finding the clues to put together the answer. 003 settled on his shoulder and snuggled into his neck, cooing softly at him from time to time but otherwise just content to spend some time with her human.
It took the young shinigami a good part of the day to work through the arcane symbols around his neck. Even with Mother at his disposal, he wasn't able to make out all the forms. Some of them still eluded even Meifu's database, which was telling in and of itself. Though a part of his mind still wanted to throw at him how he came to have those marks on his neck, Watari forced himself to remain focused on what he was doing. It helped keep the other confusing thoughts at bay.
Exhausting all his options, yet having a workable theory on the marks around his neck, the scientist's face was grim as he leaned back and rubbed his fingers across 003's back. The little owl was fast asleep in his hair and she was even snoring softly. It was such a soothing sound. Taking a deep breath, Watari leaned forward and began to write the reports Tatsumi had requested. He started with the symbols. Though there was a lot of magical jargon and references back to Hisoka's case, the words that would probably jump out at the Secretary were 'binding' and 'gate'. Despite still missing some pieces, Watari had found enough data to understand that the marks on his neck were a combination of some sort of binding spell and what looked like a gating spell as well. He couldn't tell what sort of gating the marks indicated, whether it meant that Muraki could gate to him, or Muraki could pull him through a gate to the doctor's location. Either way, Watari sighed softly and shook his head.
"Tatsumi is going to be annoyed. Either way you look at it, I've been compromised." At the sound of his voice, low and melancholy, 003 woke up and peeped softly in his ear. It was a sweet sound that she'd mostly outgrown but it never failed to bring a smile to Watari's face. Reaching up, he plucked her off his shoulder and turned her over on her back. For the next half hour he rubbed her stomach in the way she so enjoyed as an apology for what he had to say next.
"Hey baby, I need you to do me a favor... oh come on, open your eyes, you're awake... there you go. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to watch me, but don't perch on me, at least not until I get rid of these marks. Okay?"
The little owl blinked up at him and she hooted softly, agreeing but obviously concerned. Lifting her up to his face, he rubbed her soft feathers against his cheek, gently then gave her a little toss. She easily took wing and flapped over to the monitor, settling herself on the top like some sort of feathery ornament. Watari smiled at her but the expression was short lived on his fine-boned features. His eyes trailed from her to the screen, where the second report waited to be written. The report of his investigation of Muraki. Biting his lower lip, his expression grim, Watari slowly laid his fingers on the keyboard and forced himself to start typing.
He started with the meeting in the hospital and went from there. In a workmanlike manner, as if he was writing up a report about someone other than himself, Watari laid out everything. He laid out the case itself, what happened with the boy and why. How it was resolved between himself and Muraki, including the details of the conversation. He then laid out his interactions with Muraki. He wove in details from the Kurosaki case, explaining when and why he began to feel Muraki was a worthwhile investigative subject.
Watari laid down his evidence, citing not only how Muraki handled himself in dealing with Yatonogami but also what he had found out from this current mission. Mainly that Muraki had not used overwhelming death to call him but had changed up his MO. The comment from Oriya - Watari even investigated Kyoto's records for the past five weeks and was able to confirm for the report that there had been no murder deaths in Kyoto for that time frame - was added. Watari wasted no detail and once he had gone over everything from the cases themselves, he moved to the personal. Here, the young scientist was positively clinical as he detailed out the doctor's behavior. Starting with the bath and going forward, Watari didn't give Tatsumi a pornographic account of the events but he laid out Muraki's actions and also his own reactions as the relationship progressed. Watari reported how Muraki was responding to him and he explained the experiment with the sash and the results. Watari went on to report on the conversations he'd had with Muraki, including in his report some of the questions the doctor had raised in his own mind. He reported about Saki as well, going into the archives to find what he could about Muraki's older brother and adding those details into the report as well. And at the end of the report he began to add his own thoughts and personal opinions on bits and pieces of the report.
"In conclusion, it is my opinion that Kazutaka Muraki is not an individual we can ignore or strictly categorize as an evil to be summarily destroyed. That Kazutaka Muraki suffers from what can only be termed as mental illness is not in dispute but we cannot dismiss the soul for the actions of the mind. Though Muraki is well known in this Division for his mind games with the Shokan employees, I feel this is only to be expected given the Doctor's predilections. However, I have attempted to evidence out in this report, not so much what the doctor has said but what he has done, both consciously and I believe subconsciously, within the sexual relationship, as well. While I recognize the inherent danger in this investigation to myself and unfortunately to the Division, I believe it would be more dangerous for the investigation to be called off at this point and Muraki to be addressed only as the enemy. Such an act would be an assumption on our part and an assumption I do not believe to be a well informed one. Not at this time. Your servant, Yutaka Watari, Shinigami of the Sixth District-Shokan Division."
Saving the report, Watari carefully read back through it, feeling as if he were reading the report from a far away distance as he went back over the more intimate details. Nodding to himself, he hit print on both reports and stood up, stretching. Twilight had fallen over Meifu and with a yawn, Watari turned and moved towards his personal room just off the lab. Taking another shower, scrubbing himself from head to toe and giving his hair a long and thorough washing, with a lot of conditioner, Watari surfaced from the shower feeling a little better. Standing in front of the fogged mirror, working a pick through his tangled hair, the young shinigami stared at the softly glowing red marks around his throat. Suddenly, he could feel the ghostly touch of Muraki's lips against his neck warm... sensual... soft... gentle... and the pick fell from his hand into the sink. Watari grabbed the edge of the sink gasping, as his body seemed to want to remember every touch. Even as his body remembered the touch, Watari felt his mouth tingle with reawakening awareness of Tatsumi's mouth, sensually savaging his own, earlier in the day.
"No... nonononno," Watari repeated over and over as he forced his run away memories to settle down. They were threatening to meld into a mixture of Muraki's hands on his body and Tatsumi's kiss and it was a wicked combination that made the blood in his veins pulse harder, faster and yet brought an almost overwhelming sense of shame and confusion to his mind. Reaching into the sink, Watari grabbed the pick and dug the strong metal tines into his palm, focusing on the pain as a way to overwhelm the phantom pleasure. Looking up into the mirror he stared at his haunted features and snarled at himself.
"Get your act together! What sort of researcher are you that you can't handle the questions?" Blood poured down the tines of the pick into the sink and it was an act of will for Watari to release his hold on the hair tool. His mind once again his own, he calmly reached and washed off the tines and his hand, then set the pick off to the side. It was time for a brush anyway. Brushing his hair out till it shown a bright, burnished gold Watari dressed in a turtleneck and a warm sweater over trousers. Pulling his lab coat on, he picked up the reports and left the security of his lab. 003 was silent as she took wing and flew along beside him. Watari swept into the bullpen, all smiles, flying hair and twirling coat. He chirped a good evening to Terazuma and Wakaba, waved to Hisoka and Tsuzuki, and seized the opportunity to leave the reports on Tatsumi's desk while the shadow-master was in a conference with Konoe. Mission complete, the young scientist fled the bullpen, muttering something about certain chemicals, which shouldn't be left alone for too long. Pausing just outside the door, Watari leaned one hand on the wall and took in deep breaths of air. It almost felt like he hadn't breathed the entire time he was in the bullpen. Hovering close to his shoulder, 003 hooted worriedly but he shook his head at the little owl.
"Come on darling. Let's see if I can make any more headway into this case I've taken on for myself. He'll know where to find me if he needs me." Straightening, hands tucked into the pockets of his lab coat, head down and eyes pensive, Watari headed back for his lab. So many questions... and time was closing in on him.
~ * ~
Meanwhile, inside the room, Hisoka stopped in mid-sentence. He'd been in the process of scolding Tsuzuki for yet another attempt to persuade him to leave the office for a long, early lunch, when Watari went through the room, deposited his reports and breezed out.
Suddenly, Hisoka felt hot all over, something that seemed like a part of his skin burning in an almost pleasant, very disturbing way. He clutched his arms around his body, resisting the urge to yank up his sleeves and look. He already knew what he would see, he hated seeing it. But the sudden, strong reaction sent a cold chill of near-terror through his soul.
Tsuzuki stopped pleading instantly as he saw the expression on Hisoka's face change, saw the boy hold his arms around himself, nearly shuddering. His eyes darted at the closing door, then back to Hisoka. Without a word, he moved close, and put his arms around his partner, ignoring Hisoka's automatic, but unconvincing protests, and simply held him securely until the episode seemed to pass and the boy quieted.
"I'm... I'm fine," Hisoka said, after a few moments. He didn't want to meet Tsuzuki's eyes, they could be incredibly keen at all the wrong times.
"Of course," Tsuzuki said, releasing his arms gently. "You just need something to eat."
"Ok, fine!" Hisoka snapped, but it lacked a little of his habitual bite. With only a few grumbles for show, he allowed his amethyst-eyed partner to drag him off to the outdoor cafe.
Passing the hallway that led to Watari's labs, he closed his eyes resolutely and turned his face away until they were well past.
Tsuzuki watched him sharply, and then began musing aloud rather too enthusiastically about whether he was going to get a chocolate egg custard or Oreo cheesecake for his main course.
~ * ~
Halfway back to his lab, Watari had detoured, snapping his fingers thoughtfully. He ended up in the library with the Gushoshin, smiling brightly at the pair and breezing past them to head for the stacks of information the Meifu library contained. As Watari rarely blew the library up and always returned his books on time, the Gushoshin were more than happy to let the scientist roam unchecked through the archives. Which is how it came to be that well after the dinner bell but just slightly before the stroke of midnight, the young shinigami was still at the library. He had borrowed a laptop, taken over one of the large tables, and had the surface covered with books and other materials. Watari had made a meal out of fruit and tea, mostly tea, and after finishing adding a couple of notes to an open file on the laptop he stretched his spine, listening to it crack before reaching for the empty cup.
Under the edge of his sleeve, something... stirred.
It was the slightest of sensations, almost more like the hair on his own arm rising for some reason. Then it stopped, leaving him to wonder if he'd imagined it.
Head whirling with all sorts of thoughts, theories and researching strategies, Watari completely forgot that he'd tied the ribbon around his arm first thing that morning. Figuring that someone was walking over his grave and smirking at his own morbid humor, Watari rubbed his other hand up and down the arm as if to settle the hairs, moving to stand up as he caught up the cup.
"Need... tea!"
As he rubbed his hand over his sleeved arm, a sensation of warmth settled there.
As he reached for the cup, something under his sleeve... rustled.
It was a good thing the cup was empty because it fell over on its side as it was quickly dropped and Watari's attention was pulled to his arm. It was the rustle that connected the memories in his head.
The ribbon. He'd put the ribbon around that arm. So caught up in his memories after writing up the reports, he'd forgotten all about it, showered with it and redressed himself without ever taking it off. Now he wriggled out of his lab coat and carefully pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, peering up the dark cavern the sleeve and his arm made.
As if shy, he could feel the silky ribbon untie itself, and, circling his arm, slither further up, staying away from the light.
"Er..." Watari muttered and started to reach up his arm to grab the end, when he remembered Muraki's voice warning him not to fool with it. Still...
"Uhm..." He began then stopped. Was he really about to try to have a conversation with it?? Once again Watari was struck by the question... why had he tried to revive the thing in the first place?
Standing there, chewing his lip, he peeked back up his sleeve. "Well... for lack of a better conversational gambit, uh... hello?"
He could feel the ribbon shift, restlessly.
After a moment, it slithered again.
The narrow edge of red seemed to "peer" out from under the edge of his sleeve, tentatively, as if ready to dart back any second.
Forgetting for a moment that this was one of Muraki's constructs, perhaps even the madman's "familiar" if the book had been left open for a purpose, Watari slowly sat back down and smiled at the edge peeking out at him. He had a soft spot for inanimate objects. Maybe it was because he could animate them if he chose and manipulate them even in their inanimate state. Or maybe it was because as an only child he'd had too many imaginary friends growing up. Regardless, he set his arm down very carefully so as not to pinch the ribbon, but this allowed him to rest his head on the desk, so he was nose to 'nose' with the animate piece of fabric.
"Hey, it's okay. Just you and me here. Even 003 is asleep. Want to come out so I can have a look at you?"
After a moment, the ribbon suddenly slithered down his arm like a graceful, if flat, serpent. It moved around his arm in a spiral, ending up in a several layer coil that settled around his wrist, just over his pulse.
Sitting up slowly and lifting his arm, he rotated his wrist back and forth, studying the ribbon.
"You like it near pulse points don't you? Is that where you get the most...err... energy?" He really didn't want to think of himself as providing a snack for a strip of fabric.
The ribbon circled his wrist, the movement caressing his skin.
Watari nodded. "Yes, that's what the book said. Too bad it didn't tell me how to communicate with you. You realize I'm in a bit of a situation here. You're Muraki's creature are you not?"
At first there was no response, the ribbon seemed to have settled back into a dormant state. However, after several moments, it moved again, and slithered back up his arm. The thing could move very quickly, seemed totally at home on his body, and left a sensation of a sensual caress when it traveled.
It wound all the way up his arm, under the sleeve, continuing upwards until it slid under his shirt along his shoulder and then, slowing a little, circled his neck.
The young shinigami froze, breathing very lightly as the ribbon circled his neck. Something about having the familiar around his vulnerable and already violated throat made Watari edgy and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed convulsively.
"Uh... could you maybe... move?"
He asked the question for two reasons. First to see if the thing would leave his neck, and second to see if it might listen to his request.
The ribbon once again did not respond immediately. It did shift a little. He had the impression it did not want to do as he requested.
Then suddenly it uncoiled from around his neck, slithered down his chest and slid under the waistband of his pants. It very short order it was making itself at home around his genitals.
The scientist exhaled a deep breath as it started to move, then squeaked as he realized where it was heading to. Squirming on the chair, it had settled itself by the time he stood up, palms braced on the table, eyes cast down towards his groin.
"All right. I'm not saying anything because... that's better than around my neck, but you know the wrist is a perfectly viable pulse point." When he didn't feel any immediate sort of response, Watari sighed softly and hung his head between his shoulders. "Just... don't tie yourself into that bow again. It makes me feel like a holiday package."
Carefully picking up his cup, eyes still cast down towards his groin, Watari moved away from the table towards the door.
"And I'm warning you now... I've been drinking a lot of tea tonight." There was a pause and the blond shook his head. "I'm carrying on a conversation with a possibly demonically possessed ribbon which has me by the balls. This is weird even for *my* afterlife."
Slither. Circle.
*Squeeze*
"Hey!" Watari's hips wriggled. "Okay, okay... I take back the demonically possessed crack."
~ * ~
When Watari finally returned to the lab, he found a note slipped under the door.
/Talk a walk. The sakura blossoms are especially attractive this evening./
There was no signature but Watari was more than familiar with the Secretary's bold hand.
Watari saw the note almost immediately and he bent down, crouching as he read it. He felt his heart rate pick up a little and he licked his lips, then nodded to himself.
"What, did I expect him to read those reports and just be like, oh hum?" Watari shook his head and straightened, moving on into the lab to set down the material he had brought back with him. Close to his head, obeying orders, flew 003. She hooted softly when he spoke and he gave his head a shake, "it's okay, come along, just stay out of sight."
Another little hoot came from the owl and Watari felt the brush of her wings against his cheek. Unburdened, he turned and set his lab coat securely around his shoulders before heading on out of the lab. Long strides carried the young shinigami swiftly but unhurriedly towards the large garden that dominated the back half of the Division's building. Stepping out into the gentle Meifu night, Watari looked up towards the stars, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before stepping out along the gravel path.
Under the light of the stars, Tatsumi was right. The sakura blossoms were beautiful. Arms wrapped around his chest, Watari walked along slowly, head tilted up to watch the way the pale silvery light played through the softly stained petals. He stopped a little ways down the path under one of the bigger trees and looked up, reminded of Tatsumi's questions about the stars over Meifu.
The Kagetsukai was waiting off the main path, down a dead end that wandered to a stone bench. Tatsumi was standing, hands in his pockets, and his form was barely more than a silhouette. As Watari drew nearer, he realized that Tatsumi was hidden by more than natural shadow.
As he came near, the shadows seemed to flow away, but rather, they circled around the two men, revealing Tatsumi to Watari's eyes, but hiding them both from others.
Like most of the denizens of Meifu, Watari had a healthy respect for Tatsumi's shadows. They were the only magics which could have handled the intensity of Touda's fire and Watari often wondered how many of Tsuzuki's shikigami would be effective against Tatsumi's shadows.
The young shinigami sincerely hoped he would never have to find out.
Shivering a little as the shadows rolled towards him then encircled him, he paused for a moment as if waiting for something, but then he moved a couple more feet closer to Tatsumi, standing so he could study his partner's profile.
Tatsumi reached into his coat and took out the thick reports.
"Is this all true, to the best of your knowledge?"
At Tatsumi's question, Watari's lips twitched and he cleared his throat, but nodded, answering in a quiet tone that seemed to suit the calm night air, "Yes, to the best of my knowledge. I tried to keep the bits which are speculation, either on my part, or suspect because Muraki said them but I have no secondary evidence to back it up, in that one section there towards the end. The rest, as far as I know, is true."
Tatsumi nodded, his expression grim. "Tomorrow morning, you will write another. Of each. In the new reports, you will indicate that you agreed to help Muraki revive his brother, but that you never intended to fulfill the request. The contact in Kyoto on your last mission was... his attempt to threaten you into fulfilling that bargain."
As Tatsumi spoke, Watari could feel the confusion blossom on his face like a blush. His head slowly tilted to the side, brows furrowing and his mouth set in a grim line that mirrored his partner's expression.
"Wh... I'm sorry, I don't understand."
Tatsumi had never requested such a rewrite, to Watari's knowledge, and though Watari had on occasion wished he could have flubbed a report when his experiments caused a particularly nasty explosion, he never had in his twenty-plus years of working in the Division. He was genuinely flummoxed and it showed on his face.
Tatsumi's lips pressed together. "I don't entirely understand myself, yet," his voice held a grim determination that he *would*, or heads would roll. "But I cannot turn this in to Konoe. Someone outside of our division has become far too interested in what you are doing. Until I know who and why, this is what you will do to protect yourself. I will keep the originals. If an explanation has to be made, I will make it when the time comes."
Watari fell silent for a long time. The wind whispered through the branches of the sakura trees around them but instead of carrying its usual soothing tones, the young shinigami felt a sort of menace in its song. Wrapping his arms tighter around his chest, he paced a little bit back and forth beside his partner.
"Someone outside our division... how do you know this, Tatsumi?" The scientist's quick mind was already starting to chew in the information, taking it and trying to fit it to what he already knew.
He paused and turned towards Tatsumi, standing a step behind him, he could see the shadow-master's broad shoulders and a sliver of his pale jaw-line. "Protect myself from whom?"
"I have my sources of information," the Secretary answered, his tone clearly stating that those sources weren't open to discussion. "And when I know from whom, we will deal with it."
The younger shinigami gave a slight nod to show he understood the *sources* were not open to discussion. Once again he stood so that his back faced Tatsumi's back, eyes tilted up towards the stars.
"I don't believe I've been particularly indiscrete in my investigation. Are you ordering me to abandon it because of these developments?" Watari's voice was calm, soft, devoid of any sort of emotions which would indicate how he felt about the idea of being ordered off something he believed in.
"No." Tatsumi stepped up behind Watari, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Write the new reports. And be careful. And come directly to me only with what you discover."
Watari took a deep breath and nodded. Then he turned his head so he could look over his shoulder, the one upon which Tatsumi's hand rested. "Can you tell me what it is that interests them? Muraki or my particular investigation of him?"
"The latter, I think. But I'm not prepared to say with any certainty," Tatsumi answered, his voice losing a little of the stiffness of authority.
The scientist exhaled a breath and nodded, his chin resting automatically on the back of Tatsumi's knuckles. "Very well."
He obviously wished he could know more but he also obviously accepted the limitations Tatsumi was working with and didn't push his partner to make wild speculations, which just wasn't Tatsumi's way.
Dredging up a small but genuine smile, Watari's expression was gently rueful as he continued, "I'll rewrite the reports and I'll... be attentive."
He couldn't even promise to be careful, because what about any of this could be covered under the definition of careful?
Tatsumi snorted softly at the alternative term of 'attentive'. "You should get some sleep. You will need to keep all your wits about you."
Watari chuckled softly and dropped his head so he could hide behind his hair.
"Oh goodness, Seiichirou. If I start looking like I'm keeping my wits about me, that will really make people suspicious."
Tatsumi made a sound that could have been an aborted laugh, quickly muffled. "Witless or otherwise, you still need rest."
Behind the curtain of his hair, Watari smiled affectionately and his amber eyes twinkled warmly when he lifted his head and peered at Tatsumi from between the cascading fall of his hair. Straightening to his full height, the young shinigami reached up and pulled his hair back out of his face.
"All right, all right. I'll try. I don't suppose there is any hope of you taking your own good advice hmm?"
"How far would you go to get me to do so?"
Watari stood there, surprised. He started to speak and stopped himself a couple of times, his brow slowly starting to furrow and his head shaking slightly.
Finally, he turned towards Tatsumi, head tilting to the side. He had to ask. "Even having read those reports, you'd trust comfort from me?"
Tatsumi reached up to adjust his glasses, his hand staying in front of his face for a moment longer than necessary. When it dropped back to his side, he answered.
"You'd have no reason not to continue down that path if I let it make that kind of difference, would you?"
Taking a deep breath, Watari unfolded his arm and tentatively reached out, laying a slightly shaking hand against Tatsumi's chest, playing gently with the Secretary's pristine tie. Biting his lower lip, the young blond screwed up his courage and looked up into those intense blue eyes, his voice little more than a whisper now.
"Seiichirou, I can't promise you... not at this point in the game. It's being played too deep." Catching the silky fabric of the tie between his thumb and index finger, Watari choose his words carefully. "Though... I don't want to be forsaken."
"I haven't said anything about promises," Tatsumi's deep voice replied. He caught Watari's hand in his and pulled it away from his tie. "At some point... you have to do something, to save yourself."
Watari looked a little saddened when his hand was pulled away from the tie he was fiddling with. The silk had been warm from spending the day next to Tatsumi's body and the touch of the fabric was soothing, but he didn't fight when Tatsumi removed his hand.
Staring at the neat knot, the blond's lips twisted in a wry expression. "As soon as I figure out the right answer to that..."
However, having pulled Watari's hand away, Tatsumi's fingers did not release their grip.
"As soon as you do, I will be waiting to listen to it."
His features settling, Watari nodded and looked up into Tatsumi's face directly. He smiled, an expression that reached his amber eyes, softening the gold highlights in their depths.
"That's... I'll keep that in mind."
His eyes held Tatsumi's for a long moment, just soaking up the comforting visage, before they slid down to the hand gripping his wrist.
"I... given the nature of these marks on my neck, I don't know that I can risk your home."
Tatsumi scowled slightly. "Given the nature of those marks, my home might be the only place *you* could rest safely. There is something you forget. I can keep *him* out. I can keep *you* in. I may be the only real protection you could possibly have."
Watari fell silent, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully and his eyes trailed to where Tatsumi had stashed the reports.
"Do you honestly believe *he* is the greatest threat at the moment?"
The scientist was still having a hard time believing that Tatsumi had ordered him to falsify a report. If nothing else about the case had him on guard, that alone would have been enough to assure him of the severity of the threat.
"The greatest? Perhaps, perhaps not. The most immediate, definitely."
Reaching up to touch his neck, Watari again fell silent. He didn't believe that Muraki would use the gating spell to pull him to wherever the doctor was... he had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy. But just as that thought worked itself out, the scientist remembered that a gate could work both ways and he remembered what happened the last time Muraki came to Meifu.
Shuddering slightly, frowning in an annoyed manner, half at himself and half at Muraki, Watari nodded.
"You're right... and I would like to sleep." Maybe a good night's sleep would help him be able clarify a little more of the puzzle, now that it had taken a very unexpected turn.
"Then come." Tatsumi seemed to have forgotten he held Watari's hand. He didn't let it go. Turning, he led the way down the path, the shadows moving with them. If there had been anyone to see, it might have seemed as if a cloud drifted across the moon leaving a momentary darkness that passed away and was gone.
TBC