PERSEPHONE
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the lord my soul to
keep
Should I die before I wake
1
Thunder growled across the heavy sky, promising
rain, but delivering nothing. It was
strange, he thought, staring with violet eyes at the grainy-patterned ceiling
in the colorless half-darkness. Strange
that they even had weather.
The land of Meifu.
Purgatory. The place between the
living and the dead… a peculiar mirror of the world above, peopled with those
who were moving on and those who couldn't, those who wouldn't. The Courts of the Dead resided in this
borderland, it's staff among those left unfulfilled.
Among the staff, there were the psychopomps, the
travelers between worlds who would gather the lost souls and the recalcitrant
dead, bringing them to task before Enma-O, the Judge of the Underworld.
They were called the Shinigami. The job was hard on tender human souls,
though, and even the most calloused spirit moved on to Heaven or Hell as
quickly as they could when their term of service was completed.
All of them except for him.
He had nowhere else to go.
Tsuzuki Asato had been a Shinigami for longer than
anyone in the Shoukanka, with the exception of his Section Chief, Konoe. But the old man had been promoted to desk
duty eons ago. Of all the Shinigami
Konoe had seen in his long, long life in death, Tsuzuki was the only one that
had remained in that office, tucked down a dark corridor in the JuuOhCho's
building.
The thunder growled again, hungry, and Tsuzuki
rolled over on his futon, looking at the faint ghost of his hand in the
darkness. Sleep wouldn’t come again
this night.
He finally pushed himself upright, and padded
outside, looking at the lights of Meifu stretching out around the little
house. Even the flowers in his beloved
garden hung their heads, cowering in the oppressive air.
Barefoot, Tsuzuki started to walk without much
conscious direction. The initial gut
reaction was to seek out his partner, Hisoka, but their connection was too
strong, the young empath's reach into his soul too accurate. The boy's green eyes would look too deep
tonight, Tsuzuki felt, and touch the wounded, dark places inside.
They were raw, oozing too close to the surface, to
bear Hisoka's touch. So Tsuzuki let his
feet carry him to the one place he would be safe in the choking night.
~~~~~
Even Shinigami needed to rest, their unnatural
ability to regenerate, to channel the energies within, taking a slow toll on
their immortal forms.
Tatsumi Seiichiro slept with the same calculating
efficiency as he did everything else, maximizing the effects of sleep in as
little time as possible. Disruptions in
routine were cardinal sins. He was fully
prepared then, in that mind set, to shrivel whoever it was pounding on his door
in the middle of the night into the tiniest, crispiest kernel of non-existence
he could muster.
The words died in his throat at the sight of
Tsuzuki's haunted gaze.
"Tsuzuki….?" He asked softly, stepping aside to allow the other entrance. "What's….?"
"Sorry, Tatsumi…" The smile forced across
his lips didn't reach the weary violet eyes.
"I… I don't feel very well right now… I…" He stopped as Tatsumi's hand gently cupped
his cheek.
"It's enough that you're such a nuisance,
coming here in the middle of the night. I won't have you rambling on, as
well." Tatsumi's voice was kind,
the words more a gentle tease then a chiding.
"Now, come here…"
He led Tsuzuki into the bedroom, guiding him down as
he might an over-tired child, gathering the still-silent Shinigami in an
embrace among soft covers. "It's
all right to sleep now … " Tatsumi
murmured as Tsuzuki nestled his head against his shoulder, the Secretary of the
Shoukanka dipping his head to press a light kiss against black lashes that
slowly covered Tsuzuki's tired eyes. "…you're safe here…"
Tatsumi stroked the tousled dark silk of Tsuzuki's
hair until the young man's breathing softened to a faint, even rhythm. "….Asato…"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Konoe sat on his veranda, looking out into the heavy
darkness. The cup of cold barley tea in
his hand sweated only slightly more than he did.
The old man had a feeling of dread settling about
his shoulders, an uncomfortable wet, furry blanket in the oppressive heat. The feeling of dread had started some seven
decades hence, when the shy, frightened young man with the amethyst eyes had
been led into his office.
***
"Wh..where am I?" Trembling white hands had plucked nervously
at the dark yukata he wore, his body… that replica of the one he'd died in, too
perfect, down to the scars on his slender wrists.
"Your name.. it's Tsuzuki-san, isn't
it?" Konoe felt sorry for him, and
poured him a cup of tea.
"Th..this isn't.. the hospital…" The youth took the cup, the amber-green
liquid sloshing as he tried to steady his hands.
"No, Tsuzuki-san. It's not. This is a place called Meifu…
You…" The sad violet eyes widened
and the young man nearly dropped the cup. Konoe had been surprised at the
combination of relief and sadness surging in their depths.
"You've been sent to me… you've been chosen as
a Shinigami.. to help the lost find their way to the Land of the Dead…"
If only he'd realized then…… what lie ahead….
He would have killed Tsuzuki again himself.
***
The old man was roused from his reminiscence by the
soft flapping of wings, and startled to find a messenger sitting there with
him. "If you're done, Konoe-dono,
Enma-Dai-Oh has sent me to bring you to him."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ta..tsu.. mi?" Tsuzuki opened his eyes to find himself still curled against
Tatsumi's chest as faded grey light tried to force it's way through the heavy
clouds. The Secretary was sound asleep,
still propped sitting up, arms still around Tsuzuki.
Brilliant blue eyes opened at the soft breath of his
name, and Tatsumi smiled gently down at him.
"You should sleep a little longer… " He yawned in
punctuation. "It's still
early."
"I.. I can't… but I feel better…" He
dropped his eyes, and Tatsumi could feel the faint brush of Tsuzuki's lashes
against his collarbone. "Tatsumi… I'm sorry.. for just.."
"Don't.
It's been.. a long time since I could.. watch your face as you
slept." Tatsumi's hand slowly
lifted Tsuzuki's chin. "To see you at peace…"
Tsuzuki's arms slid up around Tatsumi's shoulders,
the violet eyes searching.
"Tatsumi….I…" The slender arms tightened around Tatsumi,
Tsuzuki pressing close to him, listening to his heartbeat. (How strange, that we have beating hearts,
like real living things..)
"Shh.. you don't need to, Tsu….Asato.."
Tatsumi stroked the dark hair again, breathing in Tsuzuki's scent. "You don't ever have to
explain.." The gentle kisses
brushed Tsuzuki's forehead before Tatsumi could talk himself out of them. The protective urge that Tsuzuki engendered
in him was overpowering, rising up in a wellspring of soft touches, Tatsumi's
mouth ghosting across Tsuzuki's face until they found his lips.
***
"Tsuzuki.. please.. don't cry…" (he'd rocked him after that awful mission
together, Tsuzuki trembling in his arms, crying bloody tears until the
Shinigami had turned and clung to him, begging for contact to drive away the
horror replaying behind those violet eyes)
Tatsumi hadn't had the intention of making love to
him.. (he couldn't call it sex, it could never have been just sex) Tsuzuki had offered himself body and soul,
offering everything to Tatsumi for absolution.
He couldn't stand it, after the heat between them
cooled, and Tsuzuki's scent clung to him with desperate fingers. The trust the young man had in him, the need
and the tears that Tsuzuki had tried so hard to hide from him. It was too much to bear.
So Tatsumi had run away.
***
But that was in the past. He had entrusted Tsuzuki to Hisoka, had given up any right to the
person beneath him who was returning his kisses with gentle affection.
But..
***
I don't want to be apart from you, either,
Tatsumi…….
****
Tsuzuki sighed in acquiescence, slender hands
fisting in Tatsumi's yukata as the Secretary's lips traced the outlines of
Tsuzuki's abdomen. For someone so noisy
in day to day existence, Tsuzuki was full of strangled quiet, sounds catching
and dying in his throat even as Tatsumi's mouth closed around him, warm and
moist and insistent.
Tatsumi paused, looking up at Tsuzuki's face haloed
in the dark silk strands of his hair, eyes clamped tightly shut. "Tsuzuki…..?"
The amethyst gaze fixed on him, over-bright.
"Tatsumi…shh.. please…" he whispered, a desperate note in his
voice. "don't ..talk.. please..
just… just love me? Just for right now?"
The surge of emotion welled up in Tatsumi's chest again and he nodded,
gathering Tsuzuki in his arms.
****
Surely, if you are happy, then we all will be…
****
In the end, even the heavens would hear Tsuzuki's
cries that morning.
~~~~~~~~~
He followed Tatsumi into the office, in the
unnatural, soft focus crystalline light of Meifu's mornings, humming.
Tsuzuki had even started to make breakfast before
Tatsumi had seemingly panicked and taken them both out for ochazuke
instead. The result had been, for the
first time in his career in the Shoukanka, Tatsumi Seiichiro was late.
"Good morning everyone!" Tsuzuki felt as
though a strong rain had washed away the heaviness of the night before, leaving
the day clean and new. The look
stuttering across Hisoka's face told him immediately that he was also
projecting.
"…Hisoka…" He sat down at their shared
desk area, the sunny smile softening to something else. "I…"
The boy held up a hand, shaking his head. "I already know way too much,
Tsuzuki…" The empath was trying
terribly hard to keep his normal sour expression firmly in place. It was hard, though, his partner's good
cheer especially infectious this morning.
(I understand what Tatsumi meant now, if Tsuzuki's
happy…) The fact that he felt that joy only increase when Tsuzuki saw him… the
initial niggling jealousy had evaporated in the face of that. "You certainly don't do emotions by
half-measures do you?" He almost-joked, wide green eyes a little less
serious than before.
Tsuzuki pondered this as he pushed the omnipresent
stack of paperwork around his desk. "I guess…."
"Well. April comes down the hill, strewing
flowers like an idiot." Terazuma
Hajime's little sneer slid over Tsuzuki's shoulder, and the Shinigami turned to
glare at his co-worker with narrowed violet eyes.
He started to retort when the shape-shifter’s
partner walked over and calmly smacked him on the back of the head with a book.
"Hajime-chan!" She glared at
affronted Shinigami with four feet five inches of petite fury. "I borrowed that book for you so you'd
be a little more cultured, not to insult Tsuzuki-san!"
From his corner of the office of the Summoning
Division, Tatsumi could only smile as Tsuzuki insulted his nemesis before
bounding over a desk in escape of the enraged Terazuma.
It was a perfectly normal day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“TSUZUKI!!”
Konoe bellowed from his office, stopping Terazuma in midswing. The old man’s eyes had a tightness around
them that Tsuzuki associated with mounds of impending paperwork and pay
deductions. “My Office. Now.” The Chief turned away brusquely, his door
closing with a thunderous click in the now deafening silence hanging over the
Shinigami’s squadroom.
“Well. Shit.”
Terazuma’s fist fell to his side and he cocked his head like an animal
tasting the wind for predators.
“But I haven’t done anything this time!” Tsuzuki
wailed at the featureless door, before deflating theatrically, shambling
towards the office before Hisoka stopped him.
“I’ll go in with you, dummy.” He said half-joking,
but his hand fisted in Tsuzuki’s sleeve.
The sudden thunderhead of dread he felt growing in the close atmosphere
of the office shivered down his spine.
“Nah. I’m sure it’s really nothing….” Tsuzuki winked and ruffled Hisoka’s hair
with a gentle hand. “Just finish up the
last report, and when I’m done, we’ll go get lunch!” A small smile wrinkled at
the corners of his violet eyes.
The room remained silent with staring faces even
after Tsuzuki closed the door behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What do you mean, “he’s gone”??” Tatsumi’s hands slammed down on the surface
of his superior’s desk, causing the old man to jump back.
Ten minutes previously, Tsuzuki had gone into
Konoe’s office. Five minutes after
that, Hisoka had crumpled screaming to the ground, a frail puppet with broken
strings. Tsuzuki’s name was on his lips
as he fell.
Tatsumi cursed himself for the precious moments that
had fallen away as he and Terazuma had pounded on Konoe’s door, before Tatsumi
finally shredded it with his shadows.
Konoe was grey, withered, his head hanging low and
unflinching as the wood splintered before him.
His faded eyes met Tatsumi’s with those two lost-sounding words. “He’s
gone.”
“Where is he, Chief?” Tatsumi forced his voice back to a level place, but his fingers
curled in tight knots against the scarred wooden desk. “Why….?”
(why did you let him go? Why didn’t you stand up for him…?)
“Enma-Dai-Oh…. Had him transferred. His messengers said it was time.” The weary eyes looked up again. “You don’t know anything, Tatsumi… you don’t
know anything at all. We… we need to
get back to work.” Konoe began
mechanically shuffling papers around his desk.
“We need to get back to work.” He repeated, toneless and beaten.
Tatsumi backed out of the office, grabbing Terazuma
by the arm as he did. “Stay here, keep
an eye on everything. Make sure Hisoka is all right.” He was horrified, confused and the orderly world Tatsumi existed
in took an unpleasant shift to the left.
None of this he revealed, however.
The shapechanger’s feral eyes narrowed. “And you?”
“I’m going to get some answers.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a darkened laboratory on the other side of the
Juu-Oh-Chou campus, Watari Yutaka sat, watching colored liquids swirl in lazy
spirals through the thick glass of a beaker.
He had been a computer engineer once, when he was
alive. An engineer with dreams of being
so much more. Living a great life. It
was ironic that he had had to die for that to happen.
The lab was silent, devoid of even the background
noise of computer hard drives and fluorescent lights. Occasionally, a lab animal chirruped softly, or his partner and
familiar, a plump little owl, rustled his feathers in sleepy motion.
It was because of the peaceful silence that Watari screamed and fell off his chair when Tatsumi’s voice purred soft and cold out of the creeping shadows.
“Tsuzuki’s gone.”
Watari blew an wild golden strand out of his face
and adjusted his glasses as he righted himself and the chair. “…..Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He finally offered,
bracing himself against Tatsumi’s next question.
“You knew…. Does someone want to fill me in
on this?” Tatsumi asked without emotion.
Watari knew that tone well enough to know the danger it posed. He sighed, sitting down heavily, and lightly
petting the sleepy owl on the desk.
“It doesn’t matter anymore, anyways, I suppose. If Enma’s decided that he wants Tsuzuki now,
I’m dead - truly dead…for certain.”
Watari leaned his chin on his hand and waved Tatsumi towards a spare
stool.
“Tsuzuki..”
He started softly, watching the light glint off the rim of Tatsumi’s own
glasses. He couldn’t help the dramatic
pause. It was probably going to be the
last one he ever got. “is Enma-Dai-Oh’s
heir.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Soft soothing hands, like feathers or snowflakes,
were touching him. Something cool and
moist brushed his lips, and Tsuzuki forced unwilling eyes to open.
Candles filled the darkened room, and the smell of
incense wafted through the still air.
Figures gathered next to the bed, wisps of featured smoke smoothing the
thin white kimono wrapped around him.
“What…” he started, the yurei scattering then
regrouping at his side, spreading white flowers as they moved. “….what happened?”
He had been in Konoe’s office… then… Tsuzuki blinked
and tried to sit up. The world had gone
strange and blank, and he’d been falling…
A pale breath of polite laughter rippled through the
wraiths, and they patted him down with their weightless hands.
“You are being prepared.” The words from faint lips
kissed his ear. “You can’t go before
his majesty as you were, Tsuzuki-sama…”
Another ripple of soft-chiming giggles, and the
ghosts continued their ministrations.
(I’m… being prepared like a corpse… ) The thought slowly sunk in through the haze
of incense in Tsuzki’s brain and he sat bolt upright, scattering the flowers
and his ghostly attendants alike. “What
the hell is going on??”
He scrambled backwards across the floor, trying to
organize his thoughts, reaching out to the twelve divine guardians who
protected him as the yurei descended on him with faint caresses and whispered
kisses.
“No harm from us”
“We will make you beautiful”
“Beautiful as the stars to bring joy to your
Father’s eye”
“Don’t be afraid.”
Tsuzuki froze at their words, trembling under the
hands lowering him down again. “My…”
“Tsuzuki-sama.. please don’t cry.”
“We want you to be beautiful…”
Tsuzuki thought he heard the crystal chimes of
Meifu’s temples ringing in his ears before the world went blank again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hisoka threw up in the Shoukanka’s men’s room for
what he prayed would be the last time.
He felt as though something had reached down his throat and turned him
inside out.
“You okay, kid?” Terazuma peered into the stall with
his nose wrinkled.
“No. I’m NOT okay.”
Hisoka forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly. “What happened? Where’s Tsuzuki…?
Who….?” Small hands fisted and he tried
to shove past the former detective.
Terazuma grabbed him by the collar, halting his
progress. “Easy does it, Kurosaki. Something really freaky is going on, and the
last thing you should be doing is going off half-cocked. Tatsumi’s already seen
to that.”
Hisoka leaned back against the thin metal wall of
the stall and rubbed his face.
“Something just walked into the Juu-Oh-Chou and TOOK him,
Terazuma!! Took him and Konoe’s pretending
like he never even existed…….!!” The
boy’s voice broke, green eyes pleading with the shapechanger for some
understanding.
Terazuma’s mouth compressed into a thin line and he
patted Hisoka’s shoulder hesitantly.
“Just trust Tatsumi for right now, okay, kid? If anyone’s gonna find out, it’s that bastard.”
~~~~
“His….. HEIR?” Tatsumi blinked, at first unsure that
he’d heard Watari correctly. The doctor
just nodded, though, golden hair bobbing before he stood, moving to snap open
the blinds, allowing daylight to flood the room.
“Tsuzuki’s records…. Have you seen them, Tatsumi?”
he asked, squinting out at the pale petals floating past the window.
“I read his file when I was first assigned as his
partner.. I…” Tatsumi paused. He had a
keen eye for detail, and a memory sharper than any knife. “But..”
“But you can’t really remember any of it, can
you? Bits and pieces, some key
information, but nothing else?” Watari leaned his forehead against the glass,
fingers splaying against the window.
“No. I… I
don’t.” Tatsumi finally admitted, rubbing his eyes. “Watari, how….?”
The doctor turned, resting against the window. “It’s a dummy file, Tatsumi. Written on curse paper.. well
originally. The spell is coded into his
electronic version now. Even the Gugoshushins
don’t realize it.” He laughed, soft and
bitter. “I should know. I designed the program when I helped to
build Mother.”
***
The heart of the modern Juu-Oh-Chou, the Mother
Mainframe was the repository of the data on the souls of the long dead, the
nearly dead, and the should-be dead.
But it was also more. Every line of text in the old books hidden in the
libraries of Meifu had a counterpart in the streaming dataworld running in
torrents through Mother’s hardware.
Watari Yutaka had been chosen from all the dead to
head it’s creation. He considered it
the first great work of his afterlife.
His baby.
Before it had been taken away.
***
“So.. you’re saying that Tsuzuki’s real file…?”
“Says he’s Enma-Dai-Oh’s heir? Hell, no.” The little owl hooted awake, flapping to
Watari’s shoulder. “Bits and pieces..
here and there… Tsuzuki’s real file shows something really interesting,
though.” Watari crossed the room to Tatsumi, pausing to pull an enormous folder
from a drawer. “Tsuzuki’s kinda been my
hobby since I started here. I mean, not
just because he’ll drink anything I put in front of him…” the doctor paused,
wistful. “But because once I got to
meet the face attached to that freakish file, I determined I needed to know the
truth.”
Watari lobbed the folder to the desk in front of
Tatsumi. “It’s everything. His real file. Notes on conversation’s I’ve
over heard from senior staff.. Muraki’s data on him… I’ve cross-referenced some of my own studies, God knows,
danger-prone Tsuzuki’s left enough blood samples in my office over the years.”
Tatsumi fingered the thick paper of the folder
before glancing up at Watari. “Back up a second.. Muraki’s data? Wasn’t that
destroyed…..?”
***
Black flames roaring around them in Kyoto. Tsuzuki hell-bent on destroying his nemesis, himself and everything around them in grief. The flames of the Guardian God Touda had left nothing but a charred crater where Muraki’s research center had been. Tatsumi had barely been able to save them all with his shadow-magic, but…
***
“While you were busy rescuing Tsuzuki and the boy, I
helped myself to what was left of Muraki’s files. Between him and his grandfather, they had a pretty extensive
collection of data on him.” Watari sounded inordinately proud.
Tatsumi gathered up the file and turned on his
heel. “Tsuzuki thought you were his
friend. So did I.” He said coldly,
moments before the door slammed behind him, leaving Watari alone in the quiet
of the lab.
***
“MONSTER!”
“DEVIL!”
He had been running for so long, chest burning as the twilight fields blurred through eyes swollen by tears and brutal hands. In a gulley running through the winding rice fields, Asato’s skinny legs finally gave out and he collapsed in a tangle of midsummer growth.
A warm breeze ruffled through the growing green, the soft rustling the only sound other than the quiet churrup of the cicadas. Fireflies, disturbed by the breeze, drifted around the child in lazy dots of light, warmer than the stars winking awake in the darkening sky above.
Asato lay there for a long time, trying to keep still as much from pain as from the fear that someone would hear him. He carefully curled in on himself, watching the fireflies float past until a moth fluttered, landing on his curled fingers. It stretched its moon-white wings, feathery antennae twitching slightly in the breeze.
The boy smiled in shy welcome to the tiny visitor. “Hi there…” he whispered. “You can rest there as long as you want.” In response, the moth took wing, spiraling into the air. Gingerly, Asato sat up, rubbing his unbruised eye. In the distance, a warm orange glow flickered, beckoning.
He basked in it’s imagined friendly warmth for several long moments, before it suddenly turned to a sour chill in the pit of his stomach.
“oh.. no.. no.. NEESAAAN!! RUKA!! RUKAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”
***
Tatsumi had stuffed the
file in his briefcase with every intention of going home, until from the pocket
of his vest, his celphone trilled. He
pulled it out, looking at it accusingly for a moment, irritated that this
particular modern “convenience” had found it’s way even to Meifu.
“What?” he snapped
irritably into it, only to be surprised by Terazuma’s concerned whisper in his
ear.
“Tatsumi-san. You might
want to come back to the office. Now.”
The shapeshifter’s cigarette-roughened voice had a peculiar, over-polite
air to it. “There’s someone from the
head office here for you.”
Tatsumi looked at the
phone, aware that Terazuma couldn’t see the expression crossing his face. “I’ll be right there… keep them
entertained.. and keep them away from Hisoka.”
“Not a problem. We’ll see
you in just a little bit.” Tatsumi could almost see the former policeman
forcing an obsequious smile on his face and hung up.
“Tatsumi!
Tatsumi!!!” Watari was jogging after
him. “Wait up, man!”
“What?” Tatsumi found
himself snapping in just the same way he had at his phone. “You’ve done enough already, Watari..”
“You’re going to need my
help if you’re going to get to the bottom of everything..” He wheezed, unbalancing the little owl on
his shoulder. “Tsuzuki IS my friend..
he’s not just a lab rat to me, ok? I
can’t help but be intrigued by the mysteries he holds, I *admit* that.. but he IS my friend.
damnit!”
Tatsumi’s jaw twitched as he tightened it, Tsuzuki’s
file in his briefcase suddenly feeling heavy as an anchor. “Fine. Let’s go. The next piece of the puzzle is already waiting back at the
office.”