Candleburn by Kittyling Take me over when I'm gone Take me over make me strong Take me over when I'm gone Will they burn for me? *** Intricate patterns on frozen glass. It was odd how winter could be so beautiful, ice crystals forming on clear windowpanes and sparkling in the flickering candlelight. Outside it was dark, but if he looked hard enough, Hisoka could see the snow fall. Falling... Another case come and gone. Green eyes narrowed and then closed, a pale hand falling to rest on the frigid glass and shuddering at the contact, the difference between the heat of the bed and the rest of the room sending goose bumps over Hisoka's flesh. The window beside the bed did not provide much of a barrier between the old hotel room and the wintry landscape outside; there was no heater or other such technology here, and candles and blankets provided little warmth, but it was better than nothing. He withdrew his hand, long, slender fingers lingering for a moment on the cold window and leaving condensation for only a second before the impression disappeared entirely. Faint splashes and the familiar sense of Tsuzuki's emotional aura reassured the young empath that his partner was still there, and the thought of his presence calmed him a little. He didn't want to think about what Tsuzuki was cleansing himself of, or what had happened earlier that day. What might have come to pass the previous evening, what Tsuzuki refused to tell him... A crimson moon. Hisoka turned onto his side, drawing the blankets further around him and opening his eyes to stare blankly out the window, an unfamiliar ache in his chest being enough to distract him from the sight of snow falling, the cold, his breath quickening and leaving faint puffs on the glass. He didn't want to be here right now, this place where too much had ended and began, memories building on each other like snowflakes upon the ground, and he was sick with the knowledge that he couldn't let it go, and neither could Tsuzuki. Kyoto. How he wished that they'd been rid of Muraki then, nearly a year ago, but no. The bastard had taken enough from Hisoka up until that point, and what was going to stop him from coming back and wanting more? The actual case they'd been assigned to had been completed a few days ago, and had Muraki not shown up, they would have been back in Meifu by now. And now...now Hisoka felt lost, as though something had been unraveled and rewound until they were back at step one. He would have dealt with the doctor himself had it been necessary, putting up with torture and pain and anything else the sadist had in mind--anything but this. The knowledge that he was merely a pawn for Muraki to use to get to Tsuzuki was not nearly as disturbing as the fact that he hadn't even been needed this time, and the man had gotten what he wished for. Hisoka had a feeling that Tsuzuki had gone willingly, self-sacrificing idiot that he was; and Muraki had given him back without a fight. That and the way Tsuzuki withdrew to the bath with hardly a word as soon as he stumbled in the door made for another realization on Hisoka's part; something precious had been taken from him with whatever exchange had passed between Muraki and Tsuzuki, and the distance wouldn't be easy to breach. The emotional cacophony he'd been greeted with upon his partner's return gave him a fairly clear idea of what had happened. And god, it hurt. The candles cast soft shadows on the walls, and Hisoka allowed his eyes to focus on them until it hurt to look, flames dancing and flickering from various spots around the room. There was one lamp perched on a desk by the door, and a few lights in the bathroom, but they weren't quite enough to see by, and the candles at least allowed for some heat in the room as well. The ache in Hisoka's chest suddenly tightened, and he wanted nothing more than to be gone from here, to go back to a place where he could fool himself into thinking that nothing had happened. Tsuzuki would certainly try. As though on cue, the door to the bathroom creaked open. A part of Hisoka wanted to will his eyes to close, his breathing to slow enough that Tsuzuki could think that he was asleep; another part wanted to demand an explanation from the violet-eyed man, who was now toweling his hair dry, brown strands glistening almost black now and droplets of water clinging to them and his skin, which was just barely visible beneath his cotton robe-- Green eyes squeezed shut. He could hear the footsteps on the hardwood floor as his partner padded around the room, presumably to find clothes to change into for the evening; the shift in weight on Hisoka's bed startled the boy enough to make his eyes open, finding himself blinking up into violet ones which looked equally surprised--Tsuzuki had apparently thought him asleep. The elder shinigami was seated cautiously on the edge of Hisoka's bed, damp and clothed in that damn robe that showed way too much skin to be good for either of them, hand hovering close to Hisoka's face as though he'd been in the process of reaching out to touch him, withdrawing as soon as he realized what that looked like. And then the damn cheerful smile was plastered over Tsuzuki's features like a mask, the same hand going to rub at the back of his head sheepishly as Hisoka sat up, wishing he could disappear and not have to deal with his partner right now. The violet-eyed man's shields were up full blast at the moment, and that left Hisoka feeling oddly vulnerable, the lack of the generally comfortable presence of Tsuzuki's emotions being strange to him. And he knew he was in for the usual attempt on Tsuzuki's part to reassure Hisoka that he was okay, and that prospect was less than pleasant. Despite that, Hisoka found himself noticing that Tsuzuki was still wet from his bath, and given the overall lack of heat in the room, he was surprised that the brunet hadn't already complained of the cold. And really, Hisoka was too weary to want to argue over details of what had transpired between his partner and the doctor, and as much as it pained him to think it, he almost didn't want to know. The fact that Tsuzuki had his mental walls slammed into place was enough to alert Hisoka to the fact that the elder shinigami didn't want to talk about it either. Not that he ever did discuss these things willingly, anyway. Hisoka let out a soft sigh, untangling himself from the covers and instead sitting on top of them, leaning back against the headboard and giving Tsuzuki a calculating look. Maybe, in actuality, Muraki had let him go with little more than a few carefully placed threats, and Hisoka was overreacting. But it wasn't bloody likely. "Aren't you cold?" Hisoka was surprised when his voice didn't shake, and even more so when the words turned out to sound much icier than intended. Tsuzuki visibly flinched, the smile receding slightly and hand returning to its place by his side. "Not really," he said, shrugging slightly. "Should I be?" The lie became obvious when Hisoka noticed the goose bumps along Tsuzuki's skin, the way he was just barely shivering and the cool dampness that radiated off him as heat should have. Eyebrows furrowing, the youth scowled, peridot eyes not quite to the stage of anger yet, but somewhere on the border between that and concerned. "You're wet, it's winter, and we have no heat in this sorry excuse for a hotel. If you expect me to believe that you're not cold, I'd really like to know what kind of idiot you take me for." Hisoka hadn't really meant to snap, but it came as second nature, and as topsy-turvy as his emotions had been around Tsuzuki of late, he wasn't too surprised by the twist they were taking now. It shouldn't have been legal how accurate Tsuzuki's impression of a kicked puppy was, though, and Hisoka was about to contemplate an apology when Tsuzuki spoke. "'Soka...you know that I don't think you're an idiot. I just don't want you to worry about me." His head was bowed slightly, violet eyes a deeper heliotrope in the odd lighting, skin bathed in that same glow. It made Hisoka's breath catch despite himself, and he had to focus his gaze on his hands to get his thoughts back together. He didn't want Tsuzuki to regard him as a child, but the way he was allowing his emotions to overrule his better judgment probably wasn't doing anything to help that. It was just...frustrating, he decided, how he felt as though he couldn't be trusted by the older man, when that was one of the things he longed for most. And he knew that he was overreacting right now, given it was such a silly question and response to be upset about, but it all went deeper than that; they'd been playing the dodging game for a good two years now, and he was tired of it. Afraid of what he might say if he decided to open his mouth, Hisoka kept silent, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his head on his arms. Tsuzuki was watching him, and the green-eyed boy could feel just the tiniest thrum of emotion from the elder shinigami now, something that seemed akin to regret. "If you're worried...about what happened earlier, then don't be. Everything's fine." Like hell it is, Hisoka wanted to say, you were with /him/. Anything could've happened. Instead, he kept his mouth stubbornly shut, gaze fixed on the bedspread beneath him. He was finally beginning to notice just how cold it actually was when he wasn't beneath the covers, and he shivered slightly. "'Soka..." Hisoka glanced up at Tsuzuki, the expression he was greeted with affecting him more than he would have liked to admit. Tsuzuki looked genuinely sorry, but occasionally that was all it was, pity; letting out a soft sigh, Hisoka lowered his gaze again, directing any and all bitterness to his feet and the blankets. "I don't want to be lied to anymore." That had hurt, apparently, for Tsuzuki's walls were back up again full force. Hisoka had been surprised, himself, at the weariness that statement carried, and even at the fact that he'd said it at all. "I don't lie to you, 'Soka." The reply was quiet, but it was enough to wring another response out of Hisoka, as the green-eyed boy looked up angrily at his partner. "You just did, Tsuzuki," he said exasperatedly, "Maybe you haven't much tonight, but you do it often enough." Hurt and hurtful, Hisoka didn't want to think about why he found himself having to blink back tears, avoiding Tsuzuki's gaze again. He was more than surprised to find warm, damp arms around him, a loose hug that was meant as...comfort? But for who? The ache in Hisoka's chest tightened horribly at the feel of Tsuzuki's body close to his, the sweet scent of him lingering on his skin and the empath closed his eyes, drawing in a long, shuddering breath. "Tsuzuki," he said quietly, "let go." "Don't do this to me, Hisoka," came the broken reply, the older man's voice cracking and surprising the green-eyed boy more than anything else that evening had. He could feel Tsuzuki's head turning slightly, warm breath coasting over the skin of his neck, making Hisoka's stomach do somersaults and a shiver run through him. A light pressure of lips to that sensitive area was unexpected, the hitch of Hisoka's breath in his throat going unnoticed beneath Tsuzuki's continued murmur. "Not now. Please." to be continued... return to splash page