by Penny Paperbrain
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It’d no doubt embarrass you now, but I loved you as soon as I saw you.
I think Konoe had been briefing you. The poor old chief can’t seem to learn: an introductory speech on rules and regs is never going to stick in the head of someone who’s died horribly the day before then woke up this morning to find they’re a zombie wage slave. And you were as terrified as everyone else is on their first day, though you were doing a good job of hiding it. Maybe I could see it because I was such a mess myself back then. “This is your new partner,” said the chief. You said, “I am honoured to make your acquaintance, Tsuzuki-san.” I said, “Hello Tatsumi,” and then I added “-san” after a moment because I realised I should. Isn’t that just like us? You stood quite still, just your bright blue eyes blinking at me from behind a pair of perfectly round glasses. Probably you didn’t know how to react to this scruffy guy with his tie all in a bunch. But looking at you, all I could think was that some amazing sculptress had moulded the perfect man, only she’d got something slightly wrong in the composition of the clay, and he’d turned out painfully brittle. I wanted to wrap you in my arms and warm you up with my body heat until you could embrace me back. Me, the biggest fuck-up in Meifu, having mother hen instincts. I know I soon came to lean on you more than the other way around, but that was how it started. ~*~ You thought I was a fool. That didn’t bother me enormously because I agreed. Mostly I was relieved when you got accustomed to the job after a few standard cases and started giving me orders in the field rather than the other way around, though I was a little hurt that you seemed to think I was so very inadequate – even I have my pride. Then there was that time when your shadows shot wide of a pouncing demon and it would have caught you in its jaws if I hadn’t summoned Byakko to chomp the thing in half as it flew. Byakko’s tail also took out the wall of a nearby building and you scolded me for that at quite some length, but I’ll never forget the look in your eyes while you were doing it. As if you were seeing me for the first time. I wanted to try something, there in that dirty street, with both our hearts still pounding from the fight, but I knew it would be a mistake. I understood then that what you wanted in a lover was someone self-possessed and effective, an equal to yourself. Yes, I’d finally taken the first step towards qualifying... but at the same moment I realised I could never keep it up. I resolved to try, though. So I took you back to my place, and I cooked you a thank-you dinner. And you fidgeted your disapproving way through the preparations, had one mouthful of my curry rice, announced it was inedible and stalked out. I cried. Some equal. ~*~ Of course, it finally happened when we were a little drunk. I can’t recall what godforsaken case lead had brought us to a western-style dinner dance, but whatever it was, it hadn’t proved fruitful. We’d had a fairly dull evening sipping drinks and hobnobbing with dressy types who turned out to know nothing about the guy we were looking for. Eventually we ‘left’, then came back to lean against the wall in spirit form, watching the dancers on the offchance that a clue might still reveal itself. “I wish you could dance, Tsuzuki-san,” you complained, fiddling a little irritably with your glasses. “We’d have blended in much better. But I could hardly leave you on the sidelines alone, you’d only get into trouble.” You were tipsy, and as the couples twirled past, you stared openly at the asses of the male partners. My heart stood in my mouth because at last I was sure: you weren’t comfortable with it, but you liked men as much as I do. So that time I did wrap you in my arms, or at least I took your hands, and as I pulled you out onto the floor, I explained: “I can dance, my sister taught me.” You were very surprised, but it was only a few seconds before you were somehow dancing the man’s part, and I was digging around in my memory to emulate Ruka. Still in spirit form, you danced us back and forth in the oblivious crowd, moving around other couples or straight through their bodies with equal ease. “See? I’m not a complete peasant,” I laughed over the music when I was confident of the steps, though we were both just a little clumsy from the drink. “I know you’re not,” you said, in a gentle voice I’d never heard from you before. I raised my head – and, for all that we were in spirit form, suddenly you were fully there, inhabiting the body that was almost touching mine, looking straight at me instead of through me. Then you said, “My mother taught me to dance,” and even though you’d never mentioned your family before, I knew there was something special about what you’d told me. Something I could only answer with a kiss. We’d reached the middle of the hall, and it was as if we were the pivot for all the movement in that room. Your arm snaked around my waist as I pushed my tongue into your sake-sweet mouth and before I knew it, your hand was in my pants, pumping my cock while your own pressed into my hip like an iron bar. I could have come then, but I forced myself to pull away and went down on my knees, and you twined your hands in my hair, and the sound of your cultured voice moaning wild obscenities as I sucked you off in a hall full of respectable married couples... perhaps I’m a peasant after all, but I’ll never forget it. After I was done with you, we slumped onto the floor. You finished me off, and I made some noises of my own. Between us, I’m surprised we didn’t summon half the spirit realm. ~*~ Now, of course, all that is ancient history. The other dancers must be dead, unless they’ve had the bad luck to become shinigami too, but you and I endure in our unchanging bodies. And other parts of us endure too. You’re far beyond me now; utterly self-sufficient after years spent deliberately hardening yourself. You’ve devoted your afterlife to appeasing whatever demons of perfectionism and self-hatred lurk in your handsome skull, in a dark corner like the one where my own demons of madness and guilt hide out. For myself, I’ve sorted out my head a little, learnt how to get up at roughly the same time every morning and get through the working week. But unlike you I still get drunk on occasion, and I remember. I still love you, Tatsumi... san. ~*~ |
