Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Nothing If Not By Your Side ❯ Step one ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

*****2*****


Deja vu.

The tapping of small feet on a recently waxed floor, an elevator left thankfully behind, and a waiting door, enticing him forward with the promise of what lies on the other side.

Hisoka has been counting down the seconds, agonizing over every passing hour following his brief meeting with Watari yesterday afternoon. After dinner is when the peculiar scientist had instructed him to come calling, but the anxious boy hasn't been able to eat a thing all day.

It is now six o'clock on the nose, and he cannot bear to wait another moment. Pushing open the door before him, Hisoka once again enters the basement laboratory, consumed by something far less pleasant than the foul smoke that had greeted him the day before. He is plagued by fearful anticipation, and with good reason.

The lab appears to be empty.

"Watari-san...?" he calls hesitantly, wandering further inside to peer towards the back of the room. "It's Kurosaki. Are you in?"

A muffled reply from behind a door on the other side of the lab answers his inquiry, but Hisoka is unable to decipher what has been said. Relief floods his senses, nevertheless, for the voice had clearly been Watari's. Hopefully, this means the unique blonde is at this very moment finishing up the potion Hisoka requested.

Sitting at a stool in front of the main counter, the young boy settles himself in to wait. The air is much cleaner today, curiously fresh and fragrant, and Hisoka is instantly reminded of a field from his youth, drifting his thoughts back to a time long passed.

The field had rested just outside his family's land, eternally smelling of fresh rain and blooming cherry blossoms.

Cherry blossoms. They bloom all year in Meifu, falling from the trees and blowing in the gentle, ceaseless wind without fail. Those pink petals often remind him of that field. Unfortunately, it is a place he wishes he could forget.

(If Watari succeeds, I won't have to feel this way anymore.) Hisoka muses, distancing his gaze in the rapture of thought and memory. (I will be strong, like Tsuzuki, and finally able to put that night behind me. I'll have my freedom from what happened in that field. From what...he did to me...)

Flashes of a crimson moon burn their way into Hisoka's mind, imprinted on the inside of his eyelids, despite his hope in escaping the sight by clenching his large, green eyes shut.

The image remains - inescapable.

A painful and yet revoltingly satisfying warmth swarms within him, low in his stomach. It is a feeling he is all too familiar with. The memories of what it felt like when Muraki took his vengeance.

Hisoka is trembling, with beads of sweat forming at the creases in his forehead, and dripping from the golden strands of his hair. The memory is more than just a memory. Thinking of that night is like reliving what happened all over again. He sees the moon, the darkness of the sky; hears the low laughter and brutal whispers of Muraki's voice; feels the smooth touch of those eager hands, that enveloping body against his own, forcing him to experience something no child should ever have to know.

A sharp gasp escapes Hisoka quivering lips, and his eyes spring open. Someone has placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Bon, are you all right?" questions Watari's clear and concerned voice, pulling Hisoka back from the clutches of his past. "I was calling your name, but you didn't answer. You're not feeling sick, are you?"

Leaping from the stool, Hisoka spins around as his feet touch the floor, backing away from his fretting friend clumsily. "I...I'm fine! It's nothing." he lies, darting his eyes about the room, as if unable to rest them comfortably on anything in sight. "You should know better than to sneak up on people."

The bewildered stare Watari replies with radiates mistrust, as well as the honest desire to catch Hisoka in this blatant evasion. Nevertheless, the observant blonde chooses to turn a blind eye, smiling sympathetically, and revealing a violet colored solution within a test tube he had been holding behind his back.

In an instant, Hisoka's recent regression distills into thoughts even less than memory, and he takes in a soothing breath, unable to voice his burning questions.

Could this be the answer he has been waiting for? Is this simple liquid the final step in allowing his body to reach what his mind already claims? Will he at last become an equal match for his partner...?

"Don't thank me all at once, Kurosaki-kun." Watari smirks, his words riddled with laughter concerning Hisoka's tangled tongue. "I finished about an hour ago, but I've been testing it to make sure the formula came out right. No human guinea pigs to use, of course, but I'm confident enough. Ready to leave childhood behind then, or are you having second thoughts?"

Hisoka jars himself from his silenced excitement, looking up into Watari's eyes with eager anticipation. "No second thoughts. I'm ready." he states, unfaltering and consumed by obvious impatience. "What do I have to do?"

"Drink it all in one swallow - the faster the better - and sit down immediately if you feel faint." Watari instructs, holding the vile out for Hisoka to take, and looking as if he expects his patient to consume it this very second. "Go ahead. I'm anxious to see what happens."

Taking hold of his prize in small, uncertain fingers, Hisoka gazes down into the purple liquid - an eerie match for the color of Tsuzuki's eyes - and then back up at Watari with narrowed eyes of his own. "Here? Now? I thought...well...I was hoping I could take it in private."

"Don't be so shy!" Watari laughs. "What if something goes wrong?"

"I thought you said it was safe?"

"Of course it's safe, but...anything's possible." the elusive scientist explains, shrugging his shoulders and offering a smile of encouragement that falls devastatingly short.

Hisoka is far from reassured. Naturally, he is willing to take whatever risks are necessary, but he is an extremely private individual. Something this personal, with the power to make him so vulnerable in body and mind, isn't something he wants to share with anyone until he is ready to have it known.

Even if Watari *is* the one he has to thank for granting him this unprecedented opportunity, the sacrifice in permitting him to witness the process is something Hisoka cannot accept.

"I want to be alone, in my own room." the adamant boy expresses. "I'll call for you if something goes wrong. I'll call when it's...finished, whether it works or not. But I refuse to do it here."

"You won't let me watch? I'm a scientist; it's my job to observe experiments!"

Darkening his gaze all the more, Hisoka does not reply, but the firm, unyielding intensity enveloping his child-like features gives enough incentive to change Watari's mind.

"Urr...you are so stubborn, Bon." the defeated blonde grumbles, folding his arms across his chest like a child pouting for not getting his way. "Do what you want then. But call the minute the change is completed, and take it easy when the effects first hit you. This isn't going to be some walk in the park, so be careful."

"Arigato, Watari-san." Hisoka replies, bowing his head ever so slightly. He then moves instantly for the door, holding hints of a smile in his emerald eyes, though it is nearly impossible for the expression to reach his lips.

"Matte, Kurosaki-kun. I'm not through with you yet."

Pausing at the door, Hisoka turns back, following Watari's movements as the energetic man bends over behind the counter, producing a small suitcase when he pops back up again.

"Some clothes for after the change. Wouldn't want you running around naked, now, would we?" the grinning blonde clarifies, handing Hisoka the olive-colored bag. It has a small rip up one side, indicating its years of dutiful service. "None of your things will fit after you take the potion, but you should be able to find something in there. I had to estimate for size, of course, so I gave you a variety. Don't worry about paying me back; you'd be surprised at some of the things I have lying around. I guess I'm a bit a pack-rat."

Hisoka offers an appreciative nod in gratitude, accepting the gift somewhat warily. Inside, however, he is sighing greatly in relief. He hadn't even thought about becoming too big for his clothes.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to worry about it anymore. In fact, most of Hisoka's recent worries drain away as he leaves the lab behind him. There is an impossible lightness in his step, a carefree presence about him that seems misplaced, like it doesn't belong. Hisoka is one of the many children in this world who never really had a childhood. Yet, for so many years, he has been imprisoned within the body of a sixteen-year-old boy.

A boy who wants nothing more than to become a man.

(This is it. No more sitting on the sidelines. No more holding back in fear, not knowing what to do next.) Hisoka contemplates, almost enjoying the elevator ride as he waits to be dropped off at his floor. (One drink, one swallow, and I'll have it in my possession. The strength to be on even ground with Tsuzuki.)

Stretching out as if miles in the distance, Hisoka discovers the trek back to his room has become a long voyage that grates against his nerves. Why is it that whenever you want to be somewhere, you can never get there fast enough?

Eventually, all the endless paths of hallways and corners are behind him. Hisoka closes his door sharply upon reaching the solitude of his room, and locks it shut. The last thing he wants tonight is to be interrupted.

(All I have to do is drink...)

Placing the vile gently on his nightstand, with the suitcase set beside the bed, Hisoka turns away for a moment, drawn to the mirror hung on his closet door. As he approaches, the sight of a scrawny, teenage boy greets him, and he frowns even deeper than his usual scowl. Always does he see the same sight, the same reflection gawking back. Large green eyes stare in disgust, hair like grains of wheat fall haphazardly over his forehead, and even the shape of his face is like that of a child. He hates the boy he sees in the mirror. He has always hated him.

Pulling himself away from the sight he hopes he will be able to put behind him, Hisoka moves back beside the bed. Slowly, he pulls his orange T-shirt off over his head, letting it fall carelessly to the floor, then goes to remove his shoes and socks, equally apathetic, until finally moving to undo his pants.

(I'll only ruin them if I keep them on during the change.) Hisoka rationalizes, eyeing the vile on the table beside him.

Even hearing his own sensible voice inside his head, however, does little to quell the unease over what he is about to do. Soon, his body will no longer be what it has been for so long. He will not be the Kurosaki Hisoka he is at this very moment. He will still be Hisoka, but he will be different. And the difference is what scares him. That is, if Watari's potion works.

Hisoka does not move away from the bed towards that miraculous solution, but instead looks down at his body critically. He still has to take off his briefs. It comes as something rather peculiar to him, but he feels a certain apprehension in removing them for this. If the potion does work, he will be a man, not a boy, and there is an unknown representation in that. A man. Not a boy.

Shaking his head to clear away those straying thoughts, he sets his resolve in stone, and slips his underwear off. Standing naked now in his bedroom, there is only one thing left to do. Take the potion, take the chance, and see what happens.

The glass of the vile feels smooth and cold to the touch as it meets Hisoka's hand once again, and the violet liquid inside is calling him to make his move. What can he do but obey? Breathing deeply, he places the potion to his lips and pours it down, tossing his head back as it flows over his throat.

Almost immediately, the vile falls from his hand, landing softly on the carpet, for the potion is burning inside of him, far more abrasive than he expected it to be. He coughs and stumbles, struck by a wave of nausea as the liquid settles in his stomach, flowing through him unnaturally, and absorbing into every cell of his body. The world is spinning, and he is burning alive from inside.

Sinking to his knees, Hisoka reaches out for the bed, but his hands discover nothing but air. He collapses back on the floor, writhing as his breath quickens within him. It isn't painful. It doesn't hurt the way the body aches and tingles. The feeling is like what your fingers go through when they reach warm air after being out in the bitter cold. Only Hisoka feels it inside out, escaping his pores.

It is as if every fiber of his being is being stretched and expanded, afflicted by burning cold, and the rampant fear he cannot overcome.

Is this normal? Is this what he is supposed to be feeling?

Then, just then, when panic threatens to overcome him, Hisoka feels the affects beginning to wane, and his vision begins to clear. Suddenly, he is perfectly fine, lying exhausted on his bedroom floor.

Hours pass that are only moments, and Hisoka is still lying on the carpet, afraid to move or look over his body to see if the potion worked.

He certainly does feel...different.

Forcing all anxieties away, he sits up, allowing the slight dizziness remaining to pass, before slowly getting to his feet. Still, he cannot bring himself to look down at his body. No, he must see it full on, feel the affect of truth wash over him in a single moment.

To whatever God Hisoka believes in, he prays, he pleads, that the image in the mirror will be a man and not a boy. Moving back to that full-length mirror on his closet door, he is about to find out just what that image really is.


*****A/N*****


Oh, I'm so tired, but I refused to go to bed until this chapter was done. Sorry for the slight cliff-hanger, but if you've ever read my fics before, you'll remember how much I love doing this to my poor readers.

Thanks for the reviews so far, and please keep 'em coming to keep my motivation up. I'm a busy girl, but I will not let this fic fall beside the wayside.

Ja!