Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Pure ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

"A murder?" Hisoka asked with surprise, his eyes wide and questioning.

 

"A murder...." Tsuzuki's mutter seemed to echo Hisoka's. The former stood beside his partner, brow furrowed in blatant concern and puzzlement. He backed into the room hesitantly as Hisoka's eyes lingered on the now disappearing figure which swished around a corner and out of sight. The boy then jerked his head back into the room completely and closed the door, turning around to see Tsuzuki digging though the bathrom cupboards.

 

"What are you doing?" Hisoka asked impatiently as Tsuzuki found what he was looking for, holding it up with a grin.

 

"Toothpaste?" the boy asked incredulously.

 

"Mhmm," his partner answered in response, squeezing the green minty substance onto a toothbrush and placing the end in his mouth.

 

"'is mmpor'an' 'at oo b'us' af'er e'ry meal," he mumbled before putting the tube back in its rightful place. Hisoka sighed and massaged his temple. This was already becoming much harder; the more that they and Muraki were involved in it the more he wished he was on vacation. But even if he were, he'd somehow end up working just as hard, if not harder, than he was now.

 

"Idiot," was all he could say before flopping down on the magenta bedspread and burying his face in the pillows. The sound of Tsuzuki brushing his teeth was heard before it was followed by a pause of silence in which he stuck his head out of the bathroom door and, with a full mouth, attempted to convey a thought.

 

"'soka, if dere 'ad been a murder in da 'hotel," the older shinigami got out before the frothy white foam trickled down his chin. He grunted, then, rather audibly, spit and ran water before trying to finish his question.

 

"Bleh, wouldn't we have heard about it sooner if there had been a disturbance? Even if it just happened...." Hisoka looked up sleepily from the pillow, mid morning light streaming through the windows and filtering through the creamy white curtains.

 

"I didn't feel anything near us, even if it's three floors up. If it's something really dark, I'd have felt its presence. But if it doesn't have a soul then..." Hisoka concluded this with a shrug.

 

"Hmm..... I wonder if it was Muraki. I guess I'll to talk to him. It's pretty much inevitable if we want to find out about this. But I want to look into this 'murder case' first," Tsuzuki stated, helping himself to a small dish of complimentary mints. Hisoka didn't reply.

 

The brunette sat down opposite of his partner on the side of the bed and placed his hand on his lower back. Hisoka's eyes fluttered open and he tensed, but settled as Tsuzuki rubbed his back tenderly; fondly. Hisoka could feel how stressed and alert his older partner was, and so he relaxed and allowed himself to be soothed.

 

'That idiot. I'd better go with him or he'd be killed,' were his thoughts. After a moment, Hisoka rolled over and off of the bed.

 

"Something the matter, Hisoka?" Tsuzuki asked.

 

"Just uncomfortable is all," was his reply.

 

"Uncomfortable? About what?" There was a moment's pause.

 

"I've been thinking, I guess. But I'm uncomfortable with the way you're acting. It feels different," was Hisoka's somber answer.

 

"Ahh what's so different about me?" his partner asked, waving a hand and smiling.

 

"Never mind," Hisoka scoffed, heading for the door. "I'm going for a walk...... alone." He looked back at Tsuzuki, a sharp clear look in his eyes, indicating he didn't want him to follow for anything.

 

"Ah but Hisoka, you shouldn't go alone. Kyoto's so busy, and with all the people running around, you could get hurt or lost. Or Muraki could even be wandering around. Besides, chief told us to stick together. We are still on a mission!" the shinigami argued.

 

Hisoka stood impatiently in the doorway.

 

"First of all, I live with you a lot of the time, so I doubt if I can't handle anyone stupid enough to kidnap me. Second, Muraki's in his room, waiting for you to talk to him because he knows you will. Third, what the chief doesn't know, won't bother him. I'm not bailing the mission, I'm clearing my mind from it so I can think straight." With that Hisoka turned on his heel and headed out the door. Tsuzuki, looking crestfallen, trailed slightly behind and closed the door, looking after the young boy.

 

"Then be back soon, okay?" he called after the diminishing figure, which didn't reply. Tsuzuki then closed the door and wandered back over to the bed.

 

A moment later, the brunette sat up.

 

"I don't know about anyone else, but I'm hungry! Those mints aren't nearly enough to fill a man up!" he said aloud to himself. "I should go see Muraki about that murder to."

 

'But I should at least wait for Hisoka,' he argued. His hand twitched, his face contorted in a look of disgust and fear. 'Muraki....' Tsuzuki didn't want to have to think about his old foe. But he did want Hisoka to come back and help his face his enemy. After another long moment of silent contemplation, Tsuzuki stood up defiantly.

 

"You'd better hurry up Hisoka," he muttered under his breath, "because I'm going out to eat, and then I'm going to go looking for Muraki!" Although this was stated cheerfully, he didn't feel all that cheerful. Not if he had to face Muraki. Not if he had to face the dreams that taunted and tortured him at night. Not so soon after what happened here in Kyoto a few weeks before. And definitely not on an empty stomach.

 

'I'd better not spend more than Tatsumi gave me. I'm just glad our rooms were paid for in advance!' the shinigami thought, smiling a little and bounding out of the room, his mood uplifting at the apparent thought of the wonder delicacies that would await his mouth, tempting to lighten his wallet considerably.

 

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Back in his room, Muraki sat down in a red velvet chair, crossing his legs and resting his hands together, fingers interlaced. Sunlight glinted off his glasses in the afternoon glow, piercing through the room and enveloping half of it through the sky's cloudiness. Muraki stared ahead of him at his door, waiting for someone who would dare knock upon its frame. He knew Tsuzuki would come, especially if it were about a murder; especially if it was so obscured that he wouldn't have known about it; especially if he, Muraki, were assumedly behind it.

 

"I'm waiting for you, Tsuzuki," he crooned, smiling deviantly and laughing a little to himself. "Waiting for you to come alone. I know you will Tsuzuki. You cannot change my will."