Irresistible Force : Immovable Object
by Laekin
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Earth The sun was just breaking free of the horizon when two figures appeared to drop out of the air onto the rooftop of a local medical building. The building held doctors’ offices and sat across the street from the Kazucota Hospital. Tatsumi landed lightly on the balls of his feet, arms crossed over his chest as the morning breeze played with the hem of his suit coat. To his left, Watari landed in a flurry of coattails and hair. The younger Shinigami dropped all the way down to one knee, the edges of his knee length jacket spreading out behind him as he balanced the tips of his fingers on the edge of the building and peered down at the street below. Tatsumi allowed himself a small smile as he cast a glance towards the top of Watari’s bright blonde head. Though not nearly as dramatic at Tsuzuki’s signature trench coat, Watari showed a definite penchant for the undeniable flair a sweeping long coat could provide. While Tatsumi had stuck to his typical well-tailored suit, done in a muted charcoal gray, Watari had abandoned his lab coat in exchange for a knee-length jacket of a rich forest green color. Neatly tailored black slacks and a cream colored turtleneck layered over the black body suit the younger Shinigami wore against the fall chill completed the outfit. Where Hisoka suffered in the heat, Watari couldn’t abide the cold. The blonde Shinigami often wore layers, even in Meifu and particularly when he was earthbound. The knee-length jacket served as a combination overcoat and suit jacket and while the style was not one Tatsumi himself would have attempted, he was forced to admit that it flattered Watari. Lowering his arms to his sides, Tatsumi slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks and paced up beside his kneeling partner. “What are you thinking Watari-san?” Watari scooted one leg forward so he could rest his elbow on his knee; chin perched in his upturned palm as he watched the activity in the street below. Kazucota Hospital’s visiting hours were starting up and there was a satisfying crowd of people waiting to go in and visit with relatives staying at the hospital. “Well, the case file seemed pretty straight forward, eight deaths within the past four weeks. One within every two-week period, victims in varying degrees of health but ranging from minor surgical procedures to a simple broken arm that needed resetting. The only common factors being that none of victims were terminal and the clockwork timing involved.” “MmmHmmm.” Tatsumi made the noncommittal noise as he watched the bustling activity below. “And the way the victims perished? There were no marks upon the bodies, no signs of murder.” “Yes, I noticed that. Curious really, but on first impressions, I’d say we’re dealing with a succubus-like creature. One that is feeding on life energy, since such an act wouldn’t leave traceable marks.” Tatsumi’s eyes swung back to the top of Watari’s head as once again the man pleasantly surprised him. He knew that Watari was not as addled as the scientist sometimes choose to appear but Tatsumi was still gratified to have his faith confirmed. As he looked down at his partner the sun, which had lifted higher in the sky, sent a particularly playful beam of light across the gold and auburn highlights in Watari’s hair causing the shifting strands to flash and dance with a life all their own. Converse to his habit at the Bureau, Watari didn’t bother to confine his hair when out in the field. The thick mass flowed across his back like a rich silken waterfall, nearly reaching his trim waist. The most unique honey gold I’ve ever seen. The thought, unbidden, flashed through Tatsumi’s mind, derailing his train of thought. Tatsumi frowned at his slip in concentration, stepping back when Watari powered up to his feet, drawing the elder Shinigami’s attention back to his face. Hands drilling into the pockets of his coat, Watari spun on his toes and grinned at his taciturn partner. If he noticed anything odd in Tatsumi’s expression, he didn’t remark upon it, choosing instead to get down to the matter at hand. “So, how do you want to approach this? Shall we replay the doctor and assistant angle?” Watari’s amber eyes sparkled with open mischief. Reminded once again how impossible Watari could be, Tatsumi reached up and shifted his glasses on his face. “I do not believe that your limited medical skills would be enough to pass us off in that capacity in a modern hospital setting Watari-san.” “‘Limited medical skills?’ Tatsumi-san, you wound me.” Watari cried, laying a hand across his chest in a melodramatic pose. “I take excellent care of our section’s employees.” “All of whom are already dead.” Tatsumi didn’t hesitate to point out. “Well, I haven’t killed anyone, again.” Watari returned cheerfully. “To my considerable surprise.” Tatsumi fired back dryly. Watari opened his mouth as if to reply, paused and then lowered his hand back into his pocket. “Perhaps we can go in as visitors?” Inwardly Tatsumi smiled. He’d come to recognize Watari’s abrupt shifts in topic as one of two things. An attempt to evade a subject rather then have to bend the truth or as an unspoken withdrawl from the field of verbal battle, acknowledging Tatsumi as the victor in their minor skirmish. Point, me! Schooling his face to a neutral expression, Tatsumi nodded his agreement. “Shall we then?” Watari’s eyes skipped off the hospital entrance and back towards Tatsumi’s face. The scientist grinned warmly at Tatsumi, shooting the man an understanding glance before they both faded out, teleporting themselves down off the roof. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Meifu Hisoka sat back in the patio chair, cradling a can of soda and watching his partner’s ecstatic rendezvous with a piece of Oreo cheesecake. Tsuzuki was curled down around the plate, using the edge of his fork to cut pieces off the slice and biting into the cheesecake with an expression that was nearly orgasmic. When Tsuzuki went so far as to moan with pleasure, Hisoka raised his eyes skyward in the universal expression of ‘give me patience.’ Not unaware of his younger partner’s expression, the elder Shinigami sat back and pressed a napkin against his lips. “I’m telling you Hisoka, you should try a piece of this. It’s delicious!” “You only want me to order a piece because you know I won’t be able to finish it.” Hisoka pointed out in a wry tone as he cracked the top of his soda. Tsuzuki had the grace to look wounded. “Hisoka, how can you think such a thing?” “Because it’s what you’re thinking, baka.” Tsuzuki blinked then dropped the attempt at subterfuge. Hisoka knew him too well even without the empathy to back it up. Smiling a bright sunny expression, he sat forward and continued to enjoy his treat. “Whatcha thinking about, partner?” Tsuzuki asked as he polished off the last couple of crumbs. “Hmmm?” Hisoka’s eyes were hooded, his gaze downcast towards the toes of his boots. “Hey, you know it’s polite to look at someone when they’re talking to you.” Tsuzuki pointed out in a chipper tone. Hisoka snorted lightly but lifted his head and fixed Tsuzuki with an inscrutable stare. “This better?” “Yeah!” Tsuzuki beamed at the younger man and chased down an invisible crumb before pushing the plate away and picking up a cup of tea. “Now, whatcha thinking about so hard? If I look closely, I can see steam.” Hisoka frowned at Tsuzuki, but the expression bounced right off the older man’s sugar-induced, excellent mood. Turning away from the penetrating violet eyes, Hisoka set his elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his chin in his upturned palm, staring out across the sakura trees that lined the Enma-Cho garden. “Just thinking.” “About?” “Stuff.” Tsuzuki couldn’t help smiling at the typical teenager response. Hisoka’s adolescent mood swings were oddly comforting. They were normal for Hisoka, more so than the frighteningly adult mannerisms that the youth usually adopted. “What sort of stuff?” Tsuzuki had gotten pretty good at reading Hisoka and he could tell the younger man had something he needed to get off his chest, but that he wanted to be coaxed into speaking. That way Hisoka wouldn’t be left feeling like he was gossiping. “Just… you know… stuff.” “MmmHmm?” Tsuzuki said before taking a sip of his tea. Full of cheesecake, he was ready to wait out Hisoka’s battle between curiosity, concern and affected ennui. He didn’t have to wait long. “It’s Tatsumi-san.” “Tatsumi? What about him?” A hint of concern crept into Tsuzuki’s voice and he sat forward. “He’s not supposed to do field work anymore, right?” The question caused Tsuzuki to blink a couple of times. “Well, I don’t know that you’d say he’s not supposed to, just that he doesn’t go out as much now as he did in the past.” “But, he doesn’t have a section, or a partner, right? He’s supposed to be assisting the Chief.” Hisoka sat forward, pinning his partner with brilliant, emerald green eyes. “Hisoka, we all pitch in now and again. Sometimes eighteen Guardians just are not enough if there is a run of cases and summonings. Tatsumi is still an active Guardian, even if he isn’t out in the field on a regular basis like you and I. Besides, he’s out with Watari, who is an active field operative. ‘Taka will keep him out of trouble.” Tsuzuki saluted Hisoka with his cup as he made his pronouncement but instead of putting Hisoka’s mind at ease, the youth only looked more perplexed. “Doesn’t that seem odd to you?” Caught in mid sip, Tsuzuki choked down a mouthful of tea, coughing a little as he spoke. “Doesn’t what seem odd to me?” “Tatsumi-san and Watari-san as partners. I understand… no… no I don’t understand.” Hisoka looked back out across the courtyard, watching the sakura petals fall from the trees. He missed the minute shifts that danced across his partner’s face as Tsuzuki dropped his habitual brainless act and sobered, every one of his 100+ years reflected in his violet eyes. Tsuzuki lowered the cup, and staring down into the contents, gave the tealeaves a lazy swirl. “ ’Taka doesn’t make Tatsumi feel guilty.” It was Tsuzuki’s low voice that drew Hisoka’s eyes back to him. “Hn?” Reaching a long arm forward, Tsuzuki set the delicate teacup down on the table and then leaned back, crossing his hands over his slender stomach. A passing breeze played through his flyaway dark hair, blowing the strands across his eyes, shadowing them. “Watari has a scientist’s logical view of life and the universe. He has a remarkable ability to remain emotionally detached from his work, whether it’s in the lab, or out in the field. I’m not saying that Watari doesn’t… well I’m not saying he can’t be compassionate but he looks at the job from a logical standpoint. As I look back, now… after some time and some distance, well… Tatsumi can be very emotionally involved with his work, especially when it comes to those he cares about.” Hisoka choked back his initial exclamation of dismay at his partner’s statement. Instead, he looked inside his own heart seeing the reflection of Tsuzuki’s words echoing back at him. Watching Hisoka’s face, Tsuzuki smiled slightly. “See what I mean? It’s part of why Tatsumi and I never worked well together. We both got emotionally involved and it tore each of us up. What was worse, the harder we struggled to not let it effect us, the more damage we did to each other, and ourselves. As much as it hurt at the time… Tatsumi did the right thing when he broke it off. He and I would have destroyed ourselves if we’d continued to work together.” Sitting forward, Tsuzuki’s restless fingers curled around the teacup, twirling it absently back and forth as he continued to speak. “Honestly, now that I think about it, ’Taka might be the best thing for Tatsumi.” There was a long pause, filled by the sound of wind whispering through the petal-laden trees and the calls of various songbirds flitting about the garden. Hisoka’s low voice sounded almost unnaturally loud when he next spoke. “What’s a Gray Knight, Tsuzuki?” “A Gray Knight? Where did you hear that term?” Tsuzuki frowned, the expression exceptionally dark on the Shinigami’s normally cheerful countenance. “GuShoShin. The brothers were talking about the case Tatsumi-san and Watari-san are investigating. They said it was a Gray Knight. I’d never heard that term before.” Tsuzuki’s frown deepened and he sat back muttering a soft, damn under his breath. Caught by his partner’s abrupt shift in attitude, Hisoka leaned forward, watching Tsuzuki intently. “Tsuzuki?” “Hmm? Oh, right. A Gray Knight is a sort of slang term around here. It means a case that has no clear-cut designation. It jumps around. In addition, a Gray Knight can be extremely unpleasant in that there is often no right or wrong answer. You have to do the best you can and in the end, well… in the end you often spend a lot of time wondering if you made the right decision.” In that moment, Hisoka didn’t need to touch his partner’s emotions to know that Tsuzuki had seen his fair share of Gray Knights and that each one still haunted the older Shinigami. The younger man frowned and lowered his eyes to the top of the table; ashamed that all he could feel was relief knowing Tatsumi hadn’t assigned Tsuzuki the Gray Knight. With his usually lightening fast mood shifts, Tsuzuki’s face lit back up with a bright smile as he stood. “Hey, I see Wakaba over there, why don’t we go say hello. It looks like she has some homemade cookies.” Hisoka blinked up at his partner, stunned for a moment by the change in mood but he was learning to be sensitive to his partner’s subtle tells. Tsuzuki was shying away from something in his own past and using the comfort of food, humor and friendship as a shield. Pushing up to his feet, the youth stuffed his hands in his pockets. “All right.” Though Hisoka pitched his voice to the proper, long-suffering tones, he stepped up beside Tsuzuki so the older man could playfully ruffle his hair. “That’s the spirit.” Tsuzuki grinned down at his young partner, dropping his hand from Hisoka’s head to rest his fingers on the boy’s shoulder in a companionable manner. “Was that a pun?” Hisoka’s low voice sounded dangerous. He didn’t like puns. “Pun? What pun?” Tsuzuki sounded properly confused by the question, which only meant that yes, it was a pun. “Baka.” |
