Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Evanescent Days: Everybody's Fool ❯ Everybody's Fool 1:03 ( Chapter 3 )

Evanescent Days: Track 01

Everybody's Fool v.2.0

Yami No Matsuei Alterverse

by Daemonchan

::warning:: SPOILERS!! AU - 3 years following Kyoto. Kurosaki family information stolen from Gensoukai and Kamakura Hen. All that stuff with Kurikara never happened. Manga and anime based. Translations from theria.net.

::author's note:: I don't have any images from Kamakura Hen and thus am forced to make up what I think the Kurosaki House would look like. My traditional Japanese architecture is sketchy at best. And it gets worse from here on in...Angsty reunions and secrets revealed...Oh, and I'm REALLY making this up as I go along...

Picture of disguised Hisoka: http://daemonchan(dot)tripod(dot)com(slash)fanart(slash)misc(slash)miscgal( dot)html

gotoushuu - Master (what Tatsumi calls Nagare in the manga)

::disclaimer:: nothing in this fic but the storyline is mine. Lyrics borrowed from Evanescence and characters from Matsushita-sensei.

::thanks:: ctt, merigold, madiha, leo shinatome, and sharontoggle

::lyrics::

-Yatonokami-

Impressions and telepathic thought

*~*~*~*

::have you no shame?
don't you see me?
you know you've got everybody fooled::

Four years had passed since my death and the emotions were as raw as the day I died. I stared up the hill at my childhood home, waiting for the pang of nostalgia that was conspicuously absent. Shouldn't I miss my home? What happened to the longing that had marred my three years in the hospital...the childish want to see the house where I'd been born and then imprisoned one last time before I died?

The house stood overlooking a small town that seemed untouched by time. It had always fascinated me as a child to go about there, comparing it to my brief travels in the more modern Kyoto or Tokyo, and always, somehow, finding the glittering capitals lacking in the grace and history of our town. The people were fiercely loyal to the Kurosaki, trained from birth to be thankful for our protection. I'd been impressed as a child, as every person had something nice to say. I often remember snatches of the compliments...such beautiful eyes, Kurosaki-sama...in the dreams that kept me from going mad in my prison.

Years and experience had shredded my appeal for the provincial, and I realized how trapped by that grace and history they were.

The house cast a long shadow down the hill, a two story compound built during the beginning of the samurai era. Everything about the residence was unwelcoming, with sharply angled roofs of traditional tile designed to deter any projectiles. The outer walls were a pale plaster, with large glass windows allowing light into the otherwise bleak seeming residence. I knew that the windows were a fairly new addition to the outside, old picture and paintings of the house showing only solid walls with narrow openings. My tutor had once mentioned something about renovations, but I'd always wondered why the windows were really there. The bamboo reed shades were always down, casting the shadows of black bars along every wall.

The only shoji doors of the the house faced towards the inner garden and courtyard; the main entrance was a double door of new steel marked with the clan crest. The place had become a sort of defunct fortress, the kind reserved for American tourists to ooh and aah over.

A pretty prison for the demon haunted family.

Set in front of a deep black lake surrounded by well manicured trees, the house had once been a treasure of the town. Years in the Kurosaki family had cast a dark miasma over the entire hillside. It was built in a square around a spacious private garden with an ornate shrine rising just behind the main house. Smaller servant housing and the dojo where I had spent much of my time nestled close to the main structure. I purposefully ignored the small cemetery plot I knew was just behind the shrine.

Okaa-sama...why is my name on the stone?

I shuddered at that particular memory, asked by a naive child who still had the love of his mother. She had reassured me that it was merely another family member and I'd never asked again.

The entire compound was surrounded by a low wall, sweeping from the mountain rising behind around to the lake. It, too, was a recent (a hundred years or so) addition, more for decoration than anything else. The walls were about six feet in height and perfectly smooth; it served to direct all who sought the Kurosaki to one entrance. We passed through the front gate, me giving the family crest a withering look, following the short road to the house. Another door, twin to the gate, was closed before us. I know that the house was already aware of us; servants' shadows had been passing back and forth across the shades.

Tatsumi stepped up to the wide porch first, standing patiently before the closed doors. I bit back a snort. Those doors would stay closed forever if my father didn't like the face on the other side.

"Are you sure you can do this, Hisoka?"

The question was innocent enough, even if it was the eighth time it had been asked. But, here I was, fighting the urge to run screaming from the elegant house that haunted my darkest moments, from the basement where the chains still clanked in my imagination. The light was always so bright after the hours of darkness...

"We're going back," Tsuzuki announced, fixing Tatsumi's back with an uncharacteristic glare. Tatsumi made no indication that he was even aware of my partner's opinion on the subject. He and I both knew I had no choice in this matter. One did not go about disobeying his god unless he wanted to find himself moving on to a less pleasant level of existence. It was just the small task of getting my feet to move me to the house.

One step forward. The fear was still there, unconquered. I'd faced my own murderer, pulled Tsuzuki from the fires of hell, and yet felt powerless against the past I had tried so hard to forget.

Will Father know me? Will Mother know me?

I realized the hopeless stupidity of that thought even as it crossed my mind. And found myself wondering why I couldn't just hate my parents. Why couldn't I hate them for fearing me, hating me, setting into motion that events that would lead to my prolonged and painful death...

I resisted the urge to grab my hair in frustration, settling instead for blinking repeatedly to assure myself that the contacts were still in place. We had carefully transformed the chances of me being recognized. Wakaba had taken great delight in disguising me for this assignment, recruiting the skills of Saya and Yuma. My honey blonde hair had been dyed a dark brown, with a vibrant shade of red and blonde, then cut very close to my head. It was nice to not have the stuff falling in my eyes. A pair of contacts to mask the emerald of my unnatural eyes with a more human brown, thin framed glasses to add the illusion of intelligence and enter Tsuzuki Kyou.

Tatsumi had already prepared our cover, knowing that his excuses would run thin with my father as it was. Tsuzuki and I were to come in as onmyouji, asked to study the horrific specter of my poor aunt, Kasane. Banishing the yuurei she had become was part of our mission as well and one I was not looking forward to. As a ghost, my aunt had nothing after death...

"This place is cursed." Tsuzuki's comment was laced with venom, his arms folded across his chest. I managed a short bark of humorless laughter. Tsuzuki had the good grace to look shamefaced.

"Don't worry about it, baka. I knew that already."

Any further comment from my partner was cut off as the door slid open smoothly and a young girl's head appeared from around it. Mentally, I ducked behind Tsuzuki's shields, afraid that mine would crack if I became shocked.

"Ah, Tatsumi-sensei, I was wondering when you would return. I was worried..." she trailed off as she realized that Tatsumi was not alone. A flash of emotion flitted across my carefully reinforced shields, mostly an intense curiosity. The girl was not one of the servants I remembered, with a young face and trusting manner. Some of the tension left my body as I realized that things had changed in the 6 years I'd been absent from the house. Most of the staff was old when I was just a child.

Tatsumi bowed. "Miya-san. This is Tsuzuki Asato and Kyou, two very skilled onmyouji. I would like to introduce them to Kurosaki-sama. I believe they would be of help with...Rui-sama."

A deliberate slip on his part, reminding Miya of what had happened to Tatsumi when he'd gone down to the village to investigate, dressed in one of Nagare's kimono. "H...hai, Tatsumi sensei." The flustered girl hurried to cover her shock. "I'll inform Kurosaki-sama. Please enter and irrasshaimase."

Step. Step. Through the shadow of the door. Tadaima...

"Okaeri, Hisoka," Tsuzuki hissed through a blindingly fake smile, turning his disarming charm on full force. Miya was already spellbound as she blushed sweetly, falling for the attractive vapidness that drew evil to my partner like flies to...well, you know. I knelt to remove my shoes and touched the fine wood of the raised floor.

Death. Pain. Sorrow. Revenge.

I snatched my hand back, almost falling over. What had come in the six years since I'd left, first in the hospital and then dead, was worse than anything I'd seen in my childhood years, worse than the constant fear that seeped into the very air. The house bled with evil, an evil that was very patient and very close to its goals.

Welcome home indeed.

Miya and Tsuzuki began chatting immediately and I was painfully aware of his clever tactic at getting information. No one ever suspected that some form of shrewd intelligence lay behind those startling eyes. I wasn't really listening, merely staring around and trying not to touch anything. Tatsumi walked behind me, quietly observing Tsuzuki. I caught a snatch of conversation as my partner exclaimed in shock.

"His eyes are bound? Is the master blind?" He blurted, unable, or unwilling, to curb his curiosity. Miya blushed and ducked her head away.

"No, Kurosaki-sama's sight seems to be perfectly natural...but his eyes..."

"You'll discover this for yourself, Tsuzuki-san," Tatsumi interuppted, deterring my partner from asking further questions about my father. I sighed inwardly, knowing perfectly well that that information had been in the case file my partner could never be bothered to look at.

Not that you did either, my mind supplied helpfully.

Shut up.

I checked my mental shields again. Maybe I was being anal, but better that than being slowly poisoned from the inside out by the hate and evil haunting every fiber of the house. Tsuzuki's mental buzz was barely discernible from the rest of the mental noise, but at least it hadn't risen above a cocktail whisper. We'd agreed before leaving Meifu that he would supplement my power; I was just glad he'd suggested it. It made my face burn, but I was still grateful for his care.

We were led to a formal meeting room, where we presented ourselves on kneeling pillows. I kept my eyes on the floor, ignoring what was sure to be Tsuzuki's concerned frown.

I heard the soft shush of shoji and the rustle of cloth. I froze painfully as I heard a voice I had only remembered in the dark of my dreams.

Nagare paused, taking in the strangers. "Tatsumi-sensei, please explain."

::bow down and stare in wonder
oh, how we love you
no flaws when you're pretending::

-Send them away, Nagare. They are too close to the truth.-

Nagare ignored the hiss in his mind, a quiet servant drawing the sash to his kimono tight about his waist. He held the ornate silk cloth in fisted hands, staring at his reflection with demon's eyes, yellow and slitted. The manservant studiously kept his eyes on the obi, absorbed in the intricate tying. There was no servant in the house who would dare meet his eyes, bound or no.

He bit back a frustrated sigh. The snake could only repeat the obvious: Tatsumi-sensei and Watari-sensei were here because of the Yatonokami, either to save Nagare or destroy him along with the demon. He no longer cared. The demon would be free to infest another body once Nagare died and Nagare could go to hell in peace.

Pain arced across his back as the demon twisted in annoyance. The servant flinched and hurriedly smoothed the last of the cloth. He disappeared just as quickly, leaving his irate master to argue with the demon in his head.

-I will bathe in the blood of the Kurosaki!-

Nagare growled in response, feeling the sweat beading on his forehead. He turned from the mirror to find his maid standing in shock, knuckles white where she gripped the doorframe. He had not heard the shoji screen slide back. His appearance was not new to the staff, but he knew that he was beginning look more like the akuma who possessed him.

"Kurosaki-sama," Miya stuttered, head bowing. "Tatsumi-sensei has brought two gentlemen to see you."

Nagare nodded, ignoring the Yatonokami's dismayed roar. "I will take breakfast after meeting with Tatsumi-sensei. Tell the others I do not wish to be disturbed." He ignored the startled girl, reaching for the length of cloth he used to bind his eyes with an errant hand. "Lead the way, girl."

"Hai." Miya turned and turned back to the waiting room. She slid the screen open further, standing aside and bowing low as the blindfolded patriarch stepped forward. Tatsumi could tell she was upset as she nearly fled from the hall, retreating through Nagare's room.

Nagare was tempted to let the Yatonokami have its way and just kill them all where they knelt, three men come to peer, peek, and expose what his family had worked centuries to hide. "Tatsumi-sensei, please explain."

"Gotoushuu, I hope I have not offended, but after the incident with the ghost at the Kasanekefuchi, I have brought in two expert onmyouji to assist Watari-sensei and myself."

Nagare nodded noncommittally, sure that he would send them away as soon as they finished introductions. The Yatonokami was already hissing with displeasure at the thought of more interlopers. There had never been so many strangers in the Kurosaki home, so many prying eyes.

The first man to stand was tall and striking, with bright violet eyes and a smile that took an accomplished actor to recognize as forced. Involuntarily, Nagare's tongue darted along his lips, tasting the air. Even if he were truly blind, he would have sensed the man's power, the demon blood, an iridescent flame that tempted the power hungry demon within.

"Tsuzuki Asato. Douzo yoroshiku. I will do my best to serve you, Kurosaki-sama." Tsuzuki bowed low, masking his shudder at Nagare's appearance. The man set off his senses like any demon; the Kurosaki head probably wasn't aware what a thin facade his remaining humanity truly was. He caught himself before his hand began to reach for a shielding ofuda.

Nagare bowed slightly before inclining his head to the smaller shadow still kneeling behind Tsuzuki. The younger man stood gracefully, face a study of indifference. He was a slight figure, with beautifully fine features. His hair was a bright shade of red often affected by today's youth, and deep brown eyes that were as empty as his face. Another powerful being, like the first. A demon's half spawn.

"Tsuzuki Kyou. Douzo yoroshiku."

Nagare felt himself smile at the voice, a low hiss of pleasure slithering across his mind from the Yatonokami. What were the chances of two half demons coming into this cursed household? -Welcome them to our home, Nagare. We may be able to use them.-

"Welcome to my home, Tsuzuki-san, Kyou-kun," Nagare said, echoing the eager demon. "Please do all you can for my late wife's tragic spirit. I will leave you in Tatsumi-sensei's capable hands."

His smile widened as he watched them leave. The boy glanced back once with his strangely empty brown eyes and hurried to catch up with his brother and the doctor.

"A gift," the patriarch hissed, the demon's voice his own. "Yes, a most fortuitous gift," Nagare laughed. "One I will not allow to slip through my fingers."

*~*~*~*

I fled from my father's presence, his sickening smile burned into my mind. My fate! That could have been my fate, to stare in the mirror everyday and fight the demon within...to pray for a son to release myself from the curse...

I suddenly felt the urge to retch. I knew the way to the guest quarters better than Tatsumi, and left the group behind. I could hear Tsuzuki's protest, but shut it out. The strength that Tsuzuki had lent faded with them as well. The house began clamoring in my mind as soon as Tsuzuki was out of sight.

The halls were nothing but a blur as I ran. The guest rooms were at the back of the house, another modern addition, since the Kurosaki clan rarely received visitors. Thankfully I didn't have to dodge any servants. I wasn't capable of doing much more than handling the directions of straight and turn.

And so here I was, running from the thing my father had become since my death. From the malignant presence that had taken down my shields without conscious thought. Though Tsuzuki thankfully bore the brunt of the impressions. I'd have to thank him later. When life wasn't coming down about my head.

I had faced down demons, vampires, my own murderer and my father still had the power to scare me witless.

I skidded to a halt, sneakers catching on the wood floor. Tatsumi's room was open, and I barely made it to the adjoining bathroom before I began emptying my stomach.

I could still feel the demon, my powers answering a silent call. I had recognized something in that room. I felt a...connection, with the darkness that consumed my father's soul.

Oh, Enma...that could have been me!

My stomach heaved again, though it was more than empty. I sensed my partner's arrival, with Tatsumi a respectful distance away.

Tsuzuki hovered nervously, wanting to touch me to make sure I was okay. The last thing I needed was his over-protectiveness rubbing against my raw shields right now.

The thought of my shields sent me face down back into the bowl. I hadn't been in my father's presence for more than a minute and I felt...violated. Tainted, unclean...The man exuded evil strongly enough that anyone even remotely sensitive would be knocked on his ass by the force of it.

There was no difference between them. My father and the demon.

"He knows," I whispered, suddenly sure that my father hadn't been fooled by the dye and contacts. My father was no longer human, not entirely. His weakness had allowed the Yatonokami almost complete freedom.

Tsuzuki knelt at my side, shields at their highest. "I know. I told Tatsumi this wouldn't work."

I could feel the edge of hysterics and I sat back from the bowl. My partner handed me a wet cloth and I wiped the remains of breakfast from my mouth. "He has his orders."

Me, defending Tatsumi to Tsuzuki. His number one fan. Maybe if I told myself "Enma made me do it" enough, the queasiness would go away.

"No, it's not just that..."

I looked over at my partner, knowing he had something to share that I would most likely not want to hear. And from the martyred look on his face, he wasn't going to tell me without a verbal brow beating.

"Out with it, baka. What is it?"

Tsuzuki stood, too quickly, trying to escape my question. For once I wished I was strong enough to just rip through some of his barriers and get at his thoughts. He made it as far as the door before stopping, shoulders dropping in defeat.

"We're marked..." He whispered.

I had an intelligent response. "Nani?"

He turned with sudden anger, reaching my side in two long strides. "Marked!" he whispered harshly, face a breath away from my own. "We're marked! Demons will know us for what we are! We are not human!"

The silence that followed his words seemed to swallow me. Am I human? I could hear those words echo in my mind, first in Tsuzuki's voice then my own. "No." Had my partner just confirmed what my parents had been telling me as a child? "No. I'm as human as you are..."

The violet eyes softened. "You are just like me, Hisoka. A descendant of darkness."

I could feel myself shaking. Everything seemed to be moving into place, my memories sorting themselves into a parade of evidence to prove Tsuzuki's words. My father always so distant, as if he could see something about me the others could not. The wince around his eyes whenever he said my name. The terror in my mother's heart...

Tsuzuki's voice seemed to be distant. "Your father isn't truly human anymore. The demon inside him has turned him into nothing but a shell."

Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, but I held the conviction that I was finished shedding tears for my father. "I'm not sure my father was ever human to begin with."

Without asking, I felt Tsuzuki's arms slip about my shoulders. My shields dissolved at the touch, but it was nice to let them go. Tsuzuki's were enough for us both. A sense of comfort and safety filled my mind and for once I welcomed it. I hadn't realized how much I relied on my partner, his emotions, when my own became too much to bear.

"When..." My voice cracked. I wanted to hold Tsuzuki until the pain went away. Until I could forget the fact that I knew I was a demon all along.

"Since you held your gun at my back. You knew me too, though you didn't know why."

I laughed. I often wondered why I'd chosen this baka out of an entire crowd of people. True, I had been following him, but I couldn't have lost him if I'd tried. There had been something even then that drew me to Tsuzuki's side. At the time I assumed it was because he was a soulless bloodsucker, but quickly revised that opinion to sloppiest shinigami in the division.

"Hm." Tatsumi stood quietly in the doorway. Normally I would have pulled away from Tsuzuki quick enough to warm myself with the friction, but at that moment I couldn't have cared less who caught me in his arms. I wanted someone to hold me and I hadn't realized until I got back to my house that it wasn't the touch of my parents I'd been missing.

The secretary went back into the room proper, giving me a much needed minute to clean up. Tsuzuki hovered nervously, and I had to slap his hands away more than once. But the usual annoyance wasn't really in it; I did it for the sake of something familiar, something to cling onto. We joined Tatsumi, a glance revealing that my father had given the shinigami pair one of the more modern guest rooms, resembling a more western bedroom. (And, luckily, the adjoining bathroom I'd just christened with lunch.) Tsuzuki took a chair at the desk and I sat on the immaculately made bed that looked much safer than the tangle of sheets and paper that was obviously Watari's bed.

"I do not believe that your father knows it is you, Kurosaki-kun. He sees only a half demon onmyouji, with power that could be exploited. No matter how inhuman he seems, he still sees with the mind of a man. Dead sons don't walk back in the door."

I sat quietly, fixing Tatsumi with an accusing stare. "You knew, didn't you? About me?"

Tatsumi seemed to pause before answering. "No. I suspected from the information given to me by Kanoe-kachou and Enma-sama." He leaned against Watari's desk. "I knew Tsuzuki. I could see similarities from the day you arrived in the JuOhCho."

I sighed, feeling the anger slip from me. "I guess I knew as well." And I'd fought so hard to convince Tsuzuki he was human. I had no right...

"We're bait," Tsuzuki stated, putting Enma's orders in a new light. "Without an heir, the demon might very well die with Nagare. The demon would give anything to have the body of a powerful half breed."

Enma knew the Yatonokami would be unable to resist me. Or Tsuzuki. With two of us here, the demon would become greedy, prone to mistakes. We could draw it out and finish it once and for all.

That thought turned my shocked confusion at Enma's thinking into the uncomfortable feeling of being used. Then again, I don't know that I would have come back here if asked.

"Konnichiwa, minna!" came the cheerful call as Watari stormed into the room, making a beeline for his bed. With a dramatic sigh, he fell face first onto the paper and book covered mattress, raising a small cascade of paper. We were all shocked for a moment, but Tatsumi beat us to the question that we all had on our minds.

"Where have you been?"

Watari didn't move. "Mmmph phum hmm mmph!" The answering silence must have clued the good doctor in to the unintelligibility of his response. His head turned slightly. "Attending to Rui-sama. She's still having hallucinations."

"Mother," I whispered. I felt strangely empty as I said the word, as if that was all it was to me. Just another word with nothing to attach to it. Watari sat up, seeming to notice Tsuzuki and I for the first time.

"Yes, bon. Your mother. Enma save us all." His cheerfulness dissolved and he removed his glasses to look me in the eyes. "Rui-sama is dying."