Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ The Butterfly ❯ An Ill-Thought Gift ( Chapter 1 )

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

Synopsis: Hisoka Kurosaki, the favourite toy of the Warlord Muraki, never dreamed that he would one day get away from the man's evil clutches. That is until he is given as a gift to a nearby lord whom Muraki is trying to impress. Once inside Tsuzuki's court at Onimidori, things begin to change for Hisoka as he learns that not everyone looks at him as a prize.

The most beautiful butterflies fly wild and free…

Guide to Japanese words:

`-domo' means Lord

`-sama' indicates of high rank/godlike status/high priest/omnyouji

`gaijin' means outsider, someone not from the country

`nekojita' indicates someone who can't eat hot foods

The Butterfly

An Ill-Thought Gift

The butterfly was beautiful. Its delicate wings fluttered as it landed on the nettle, balancing carefully as it stilled, sunning its wonderfully colorful wings.

The boys crept up. For a while they were content to admire the brilliant green of the butterfly's majestic wings. Then the desire to possess took hold.

Clumsy fingers trapped the butterfly, accidentally injuring it, bruising its fragile beauty. It tried to escape but only managed to damage its magical wings further. The boys, disgusted at its crumpled form, dropped it, leaving it to die, flightless and alone, its beauty diminished.

A dragonfly appeared, its beautiful elongated body, not quite blue, not quite purple, shimmered in the light as its long translucent wings steadied its balance on the ground. It crawled forward, watching the dying butterfly as its life began to fade…

Tsuzuki Asato is a famous sorcerer. Even I know that. He's known for his triumphant battle against the Necromancer Onizuka, and of course, for being half demon. Few have ever gone to war against him and lived to tell the tale.

There are many things known about Lord Tsuzuki but not many have heard of his mercy, or his kindness, or his compassion, or his cheer. They do not watch as he is wracked by guilt, and he retreats Within himself for days on end, to a place where no one can hurt him. It must be a demon thing; most lords have no problem hurting anyone. At least, my lord has no qualms about it.

I don't remember being anywhere but in Lord Muraki's harem. Well, not much really. I should really say, I don't remember much from before I came into the Muraki household. I've been working at the palace for ten years, ever since I was six years old and my parents sold me. They didn't need the money, they just didn't want me. They called me a demon, and I guess, looking back, that's what the empathy must have seemed like to them. I could use my power to manipulate them, but I never did (not that it did me any good). The golden rule of empathy is that you never use it to manipulate things for your own benefit.

When I joined Muraki's household, I was taught by some of the others with small magical gifts how to control my gift, how to build up walls so strong that when Muraki entered the room I didn't have to duck out before I was overwhelmed by the darkness of his soul.

So, anyhow, six years old is a little too young for a harem boy, even by Muraki's standards, so I worked in the kitchens for about five years. At the age of eleven Muraki sent for me and I became his manservant. For a short period that's all I was, making sure he ate his meals, preparing his clothes, making sure everything was exactly where he wanted it. Easy job…

I was thirteen when Muraki first… first… Well… used me in that way. It's been three long years since then. I don't think I even realized how many sexual perversions existed, but it seems like I've mastered them all. I think I might be my master's favourite `doll', as he calls his whores. I guess it's because I'm still a challenge… I still try to defy him sometimes, and I never let him think he's won… Not even when it's quite obvious I've lost complete control of the situation…

Yeah, I'm the only one who still fights back. I'm the only one who still hates him.

Oriya, who looks after the harem, often is jealous of me. I rarely spend the night in my own bed. I can tell he wants Muraki. No, that's wrong, he loves Muraki. Muraki just doesn't know what love is.

But recently I've noticed that Muraki's heart has been left with someone. No, again, that's over-stating the situation a little. Muraki is obsessed with someone, and he's convinced himself that it's love. He's obsessed with someone with large violet eyes.

How do I know this?

Muraki draws pictures…

They are never labeled, nor are they removed from his private rooms. Some are sketches drawn with charcoal but his best are on canvas. His brushes glide effortlessly over the fabric, and he splashes colour on, seemingly at random, yet the portrait is always perfect.

Always of a man with amethysts for eyes.

I do not know this man. I only know of him.

Tsuzuki Asato-domo.

The Demon Lord.

I am awoken at dawn and ordered to dress. I immediately reach for my `work clothes', made from soft silks and net. Oriya stops me, however, handing me a somber black kimono made from a heavy, rough linen. I blink at it. Is this something new?

“Muraki-sama is going to the court of Tsuzuki-domo. You are to accompany him,” is all Oriya says. He then leaves me to struggle with the kimono. I've never put one on before. When he returns I'm panicking, unable to put the damn thing on properly. I also have a sneaking suspicion that this is a woman's robe…

“Here,” Oriya undid my hopeless butterfly knots and retied them, straightening everything up. I felt like a child but Oriya said nothing, glancing around the room I shared with eleven other… whores? No, they don't get paid…

“Why am I dressed like this, Oriya-san?” I asked, carefully hiding the tremor in my voice. I hate doing new things. Not only do I harbour the secret fear that it will be worse still from what has already happened before, but I also worry about doing it wrong and being beaten or killed.

“You will be traveling with Muraki-domo,” Oriya replied. I tried my best not to look a little afraid. To be fair, I never expected Muraki to trust me enough to take me anywhere. My escape attempts are notorious. I am too embarrassed to describe how many times I've tried to escape… The fact I haven't yet is painful enough…

“May I ask-” I began but Oriya gave me a look.

“No, no you may not. Truth is, kiddo, I don't rightly know anything myself. All I was told was to get you and make you decent for traveling with a Lord…. And to dress you up as a woman,” Oriya was chuckling at my red cheeks. So I was right, this was a woman's kimono… I felt myself getting angry… I fly off the handle too easily…

“My lord will be traveling with you. He wants it so. You will dress as a woman until you reach your destination where you will dress as instructed. I'd take your best clothes in this pack… and, you know, everything.” He gestured to various other things. Oriya, despite being the master of a harem, hated referring to things such as sex toys, make-up or jewelry. He was too proud for that, so he would just blush and point. Kind of cute really, now I think about it… He's really trying to be quite masculine…

Only it doesn't work when you're trying to get into Muraki's pants if you try to act macho…

Maybe he'd have more luck if he looked like me or wore make-up?

…

Or, I guess, if he had amethyst eyes…

My first day traveling with Muraki-domo was… different. The first problem had been the fact I couldn't even try to escape. Muraki had told me to put on some gold bracelets, anklets and a choker. I had complied: a bracelet on each wrist, anklet on each ankle, practically decapitating my head with the choker. Only after I'd gotten everything on did he tell me their purpose.

They stopped me from escaping. Gold manacles, as they were. Muraki had a similar necklace to my own with a little glass jar that contained what he had so tactfully put as `body fluid'. Basic magic, he bound me to him with that and if he broke that jar, I'd die. If I tried to remove the jewelry on my own, the jar would break. Overall, death was pretty much the only way I'd escape, and I didn't fancy that.

I had enjoyed the scenery from where I was sat, in front of one of Muraki's warriors on his horse. He wasn't like the others, who whispered innuendos in my ear and tried to grope me. He just let me sit there, taking in the outside world with childlike ignorance.

After a while he started to explain to me what I was seeing. Rice field serfs, black smiths, villagers and then… the ocean…

“My god…” I breathed. It sparkled, dancing its violent dance, crashing against the cliffs and caressing the beaches. I wished I could jump from the horse and run down onto the shore.

“We are following the coast road for another three days,” the warrior told me. I nodded, entranced by the ocean. Hypnotized, I barely registered the jeers aimed at me. The ocean was slowly seducing me.

“Do you like the sea, doll?” I heard. I looked away from the sea to the other side of the horse to see Muraki riding beside us. I wasn't sure what to reply. Would I ever see the ocean again?

“Yes, Muraki-domo. It is very beautiful,” I replied. He seemed pleased with my answer. The sun was setting, turning the ocean blood red. I shivered. I didn't like the omen.

“I am glad. We will be following the coast road for a further three days. We will reach Tsuzuki-sama's house at noon on the third day. Please make sure you are clean for that day.” Muraki then returned to the front of the procession. At first I was outraged that he would call me unclean. I knew what he had been implying. I also knew he probably was right as well. I was too slender and physically weak to fight off a full-grown warrior.

“Don't worry, Kid. If you sleep near me tonight you'll be okay,” the warrior said. I nodded; perhaps it would be best to spend my time near a guardian. Then again, perhaps it would be better to see if Muraki-domo wanted me?

I spent the rest of our journey that day watching the blood red ocean

The first night was spent in a small village called HajI. The villagers were poor seeming. Muraki demanded his soldiers were fed, although he did not include me in that. The solder I had ridden double with all day, Reji, shared his salted fish and rice cakes with me

He explained that this was the last village within the Muraki Clan province. Beyond it was the plenteous Tsuzuki Clan lands. They had once been a demon lord's lands, lands from which mortals who strayed there did not return. Since Tsuzuki had taken them in his conquest against a particularly nasty demon, he had made it into a mortal province and claimed it in the name of his clan, transferring the capital from the family home in Nagano to Onimidori.

Reji continued to tell me about the demon wars, including some of the battles he had been in. He painted a picture in my imagination of ferocious beasts with bloodied muzzles and elongated limbs.

It contrasted with the beautiful paintings of Tsuzuki-domo I had already seen. Reji explained why this was, saying my curiosity matched that of a cat's. Perhaps it didn't help when I drank the bitter tea that soldiers carry and yelped as it scalded my tongue.

“Nekojita! That's what I'll call you!” Reji chuckled. Nekojita was a name for someone who cannot stand hot temperatures in food or drink. The literal translation into common tongue is `Cat tongue'. This wasn't the last time I was to be called this…

“Okay, well, Lord Saiki, Tsuzuki-domo's father, married a beautiful succubus demon. Naturally, she was only bound to him through a life debt. To be fair, no one really knows what exactly Saiki did to get a demon to owe him a life debt.” Reji's face was illuminated by a contained fire in one of the local farmer's barns. A group of other soldiers had joined us, obviously eager to hear Reji's stories also.

“She gave birth to a son, but to her, this was not acceptable. She attempted to destroy what she called an abomination. Of course, the previous Lord Tsuzuki stopped her. He raised the child as any other Lord's son. Tsuzuki-domo helped everyone in his father's household make the clan proud and powerful. He did his father's dirty work in the field of battle. He expanded the province, fought the demons and all the rest of it…” Reji's eyes were twinkling as he drew everyone further into the story. I was beginning to feel a little sleepy. I was sore from the riding and I felt slightly light headed from weariness and some of the sake Reji had let me try.

“The succubus saw how a demon's child was helping mortals and tried to take action against Tsuzuki-domo. No one knew what happened, but out of the entire Tsuzuki Clan, only the current Lord Tsuzuki Asato survived… He was lucky indeed… They say that he went crazy and killed everyone in the area, his mother, sister, father, aunts, uncles… No one knows the truth… Hey, kid? Kid?”

I was already asleep…

“Ohayo Tatsumi-san!” Watari called. Tatsumi immediately cowered. He knew why Watari was here… Watari had been his subordinate now for ten years. Tatsumi had been chosen as an advisor to Tsuzuki-domo when he was twenty, and immediately he had been assigned an overactive sixteen year old to act as his assistant.

“Ohayo Watari-kun,” Tatsumi replied with little enthusiasm. He then was greeted by a mass of blonde hair being shoved in his face and lips brushing against his own. He couldn't help but feel the quickening of his heart as he closed his eyes. Then he scolded himself, picturing Tsuzuki in his mind, the one he truly wanted. He sighed into the kiss.

This was why he was uncomfortable around Watari. The man insisted that they were together, despite everyone else's dubious looks and the fact that Tatsumi was so obviously in love with Tsuzuki still. Yet, Watari didn't give up, stubbornly whoring himself off to someone who always turned the lights off when they slept together and even occasionally said the wrong name.

“What do we have to do today?” Watari asked, pulling away suddenly. Tatsumi blinked. Only Watari had the ability to completely throw him.

“We are preparing for Muraki-domo's visit. Tsuzuki wants everything perfect. You know how he feels he must show off to the other lords,” Tatsumi explained. Watari nodded. Tsuzuki had never been fully accepted as a lord because of his bloodline. Watari knew exactly how that felt.

His parents had been gaijin, who had taken refuge in Tsuzuki's court. Their medicine and science had been welcomed. Watari had been ridiculed when they were younger for his blonde hair and blue eyes… Bullied because he was different…

Then he had met Tsuzuki, the two had immediately clicked and had become good friends. Watari managed to move into the elite circles, making lots of new friends who didn't laugh at him for taking a runt of an owl around with him, named 003, and who didn't even consider him a gaijin as he spoke the language perfectly.

Then he had been assigned to work with Tatsumi, and his dreams had come true… He might have harbored a tiny crush for Tatsumi whilst growing up. The calm, collected man was always by Tsuzuki's side, organizing things so they ran smoothly. Watari had admired him greatly. It was probably why Watari was so hopelessly in love with him now…

Not that he'd admit that to Tatsumi. He'd rather pretend that it was just a fun fling, that it didn't hurt when Tatsumi called out to someone else while they were making love, that when he dreamed of Tsuzuki, it didn't make Watari cry the next day; that everything was fine. Everything was happy.

Inside, Watari was falling apart.

“I don't like the way things are going with Muraki. He's too interested in Tsuzuki-san… It's not wrong, to be in love with a man,” Watari quickly said at Tatsumi's sharp look. “But it is wrong when we consider that this is Muraki... I hear he has a harem. Most lords got rid of harems over two hundred years ago!!” Watari was now rambling, and he knew it. It was common that he would do this when around Tatsumi. He wasn't comfortable with the silence between the two of them, the fear that if Tatsumi got the chance to speak he'd call off their non-relationship scared Watari into fits of rambling ness.

Watari stopped himself then and there, seeing the glazed expression on Tatsumi's face. He sighed, then put on his usual genki attitude and smiled brightly, as though this question hadn't been torturing him for months.

“Ne, Tatsumi?” Watari then cleared his throat, gathering courage and then: “Do you still love Tsuzuki-san?” The blonde asked. Tatsumi choked on his tea, placing his calligraphy pen down and calmly facing Watari. Tatsumi knew better than to attempt to lie to the blonde. That owl of his was a shockproof lie detector and would alert him immediately.

“I do love him. I am not in love with him anymore. That hope died when his father did,” Tatsumi said softly. Watari nodded, knowing that Tatsumi never talked about what happened that day. Only Tatsumi and Watari's adopted uncle, who they all jokingly called Kanoe-Kachou, knew the truth.

“I would be bad for him, I know it. I would make him remember that which he should have to forget. I want to-”

The door opened.

“News from Haji!” A messenger announced. The man looked between the Lord's two advisors and then he bowed. “Ah, gomen, did I interrupt something?”

“No, please continue to deliver your message,” Tatsumi waved his hand vaguely. Watari pursed his lips; he had been so close to discovering something then. So very close…

“Muraki has brought a gift for Tsuzuki-domo. A boy named, as far as we can tell, `Doll'. They'll arrive by noon in two days time,” the messenger said hurriedly. Tatsumi nodded but he felt the dread sweeping through him. He looked at Watari who had a similar look on his face.

Tsuzuki would not like the idea of a slave boy.

But if he refused, he would be declaring war against the Muraki Clan.

Oh, this was going to take some organizing.

The last few days passed in a whirl. The journey made me feel wonder and a sense of regret. I would never be able to see these lands as a free person, never would I be able to swim in the sea, climb trees, sit amongst the flowers and feel at peace.

Reji had become a close friend to me. Often he would talk to me, something I had not experienced since being in the harem. Not that the girls weren't good talkers, but their incessant chatter about bachelors, lords and sex… weren't exactly stimulating for the brain.

Reji however filled me in on history, love, general life. I enjoyed his stories and often I found myself to talking to him about some of my more humorous experiences.

Like when Lord Minase had been dragged down to the harem. Oriya had thought it was me, and I'd died my hair to fit in better. I laughed about it, mentioning how the Lord had found it highly amusing and insisted on playing practical jokes. Naturally, Muraki had humored the child. I thought he was an idiot; perhaps I'm just jaded?

“Being in the harem isn't all bad then? Perhaps I'll join?” Reji chuckled. I know it was meant to be a joke. When I saw Reji's smiling face however, I just… shuddered to think of him even considering…

“Do not make jokes of things that you don't understand, Reji-san. There is more to the harem than enjoyment. You are not a person, just a body for them to use however they want. They abuse you, violate you in any way they can, just so they can get their twisted kicks,” I knew my voice was trembling. I felt ashamed, I should not talk of such things to a man who knew nothing of the real life… the real life of a… of a… whore… That's what I really am, isn't it?

“Gomen nasai, Kurosaki-kun. I did not mean to cause offence,” Reji said, his voice soft. I just nodded, not wanting to speak.

“Aa… I will tell you the story of the Butterfly God. I think it's a story that you would enjoy,” Reji was acting as though nothing was wrong. I wanted to yell at him for being so insensitive, yet I would rather never speak of my servitude again.

“There was once a time when Gods walked the earth and humans were in servitude to them. They each had a preferred form that reflected their ways. The Goddess Leiko was a Dragon, from which all demons are descended. The God Kei was a tiger of amazing strength and wisdom; they say that the Emperor on the main island is of his bloodline. There were scores of other gods and lines, hundreds of demi-gods and powerful beings around that time. Even so, few have survived the millennia… This story, however, is about one young, gentle god, named Ichiro….” I felt curiosity taking over as Reji's soothing voice calmed my anger.

“But Ichiro means first son! Why would a god be called that?” I asked. Reji smiled and I knew that, like all good storytellers he'd been expecting that question.

“Aa. Ichiro was the first god to be created within the age of mortals. Therefore, some believed him to be merely a Son of Gods. Others believed him to be a God in his own right. I know little of the philosophy behind Ichiro's godhood. His story is interesting even if he was merely a mortal.” The warrior realized we were falling behind and started to spur his horse forward.

“Ichiro was supposedly so beautiful that he rivaled the beauty of nature itself. Many Gods were jealous of his form, a bright green butterfly. So small and fragile was his body that he was almost impossible to catch.” They had caught up with the main body of the soldiers now, riding through the throng.

“Leiko was jealous however, as many men found Ichiro more beautiful. In her eyes it was against nature. This is why the way of the Dragon and the Way of the Tiger forbids those who follow their ways from engaging in homosexual acts,” Reji explained. I nodded, I had heard of those monks. Generally they were extreme conservatives, stubborn and self-righteous. They believed that Leiko and Kei had come together and created the Emperor from their union…

“Anyhow, Leiko grew so jealous of Ichiro she ordered for men to capture him using a net with the power to contain the power of a God. The men searched out Ichiro, yet could not find him.

“In the end, Ichiro took pity on the men looking for him, not knowing their purpose. He turned himself over to them. They saw his beauty and it broke them. In all men there is a deep-rooted desire to possess beauty. They defiled Ichiro, and the God did not resist for fear of harming his beautiful wings. They then captured him in the net.

“Unable to escape, Ichiro decided that there was only one thing to do. For his freedom he became untouchable. He would never again have to suffer the cruelty of man's heart. He split himself into millions of tiny pieces and spread himself across the sky, where he is still watched over by this protector, Tsuki, the moon.”

Reji was smiling now, his eyes twinkling as he leaned over my shoulder whispering the rest.

“The reason followers of the way of the Butterfly can have same sex marriages is because Ichiro took Tsuki as his lover. They were blessed with a daughter that we know as the North Star, Lindu. It is said that the Tsuzuki family-” Reji was stopped when I was pulled violently from the horse. I cried out as hands clamped around my waist, I could feel everyone's lust and dark emotions leaking through my barriers. There were too many….

“Oi! What the hell are you doing?” I heard Reji bellow. There were jeers and Muraki's chuckle. I suddenly felt cold all over. The thought that…. All these soldiers… All of them…

“Hisoka!” I heard Reji yell. “The Butterfly! Do not forget that you are-” I didn't hear the rest as the soldiers emotions made my brain go fuzzy. It was the last time I saw Reji for a long time.

I shivered, pulling the blankets closer around me. I had never felt more dirty or ashamed. Slowly I cried myself to exhaustion but I couldn't sleep. I was so afraid that one of them would return. I was bleeding, yet I couldn't look at my body without breaking down into dry sobs.

It was sunrise when they forced me to ride a horse, laughing at the fact I couldn't sit down.

Watari sighed. This report did not bode well. Villagers had reported that a group of soldiers had been spotted outside Luka, a full half day ahead of schedule. Then they'd been missing between Luka and Aori. They should have got there by mid-afternoon but they only arrived a little before nightfall. There had been some… interesting… reports of what they'd been doing…

“We can't inform Tsuzuki of this. He'll deny entry to Onimidori to Muraki. We don't need a war between the two provinces right now. Muraki is far too powerful,” Tatsumi said, rubbing his temples. Watari whole-heartedly agreed. He may not have liked being friendly to Muraki, but to go to war with the half-crazed warmonger…

“The boy… We will be insulting Muraki by not taking him…” Watari said, glancing at Tatsumi, trying to get the man's attention by running hands through his golden hair.

“Aa. I know. Let's just see what Tsuzuki thinks…”

I sat, staring blankly ahead. My kimono was in tatters. I heard the men laughing from behind me. I was almost falling from my horse. I couldn't stop crying, although I didn't make a sound.

“Doll, what's the matter?” Some jeered. I ignored them, concentrating on steering my horse. It kept on trying to wander off, and it was taking all my strength to keep control of the damn thing.

“Reji was a fool to think he could keep you all to himself.” That was Oriya. I tried not to let out a sob. Reji had disappeared, no one had been sent to find. He'd been left behind.

“Kurosaki-kun, please do stop crying. It's exceptionally tedious.” Then Oriya's voice dropped to a whisper. “And it only encourages them.” He then spurred his horse ahead. I stopped crying out of sheer force of will.

I saw Oriya watching me for the rest of the journey, but he said nothing. No one touched me again that day.

My first view of Onimidori took my breath away. It backed onto a mountain range, a large grass plain stretching before it. The mountain behind the castle had a waterfall pouring from it, seeming going through the centre of the castle to feed the moat.

The building itself was a masterpiece. Tall, slender towers, carved from a strange pale green stone, was ornate and… beautiful…

“The residence of a Demon Lord,” one of the men breathed. I shuddered, imagining a hoard of ferocious beasts living in such a wonderful castle.

We rode in awe, carefully studying every detail of the amazing building. A drawbridge lowered and two men on white horses rode out to meet us.

“We were not expecting you so soon, Muraki-domo,” A blonde gaijin called. I blinked. Certainly not what I expected from a fierce demon lord. A blonde genki man with a round, fluffy owl on his shoulder…

“Ah, Watari-san,” Muraki bowed his head slightly to the blonde, then looked to the person beside him. “And Tatsumi-san as well. How pleasant of you to have ridden out to meet me. You shouldn't have bothered,” Muraki said, his voice mocking. I stared at the two men, weighing them up.

They had the feel of two people who knew life was hard but met each day with a smile… Or at least a very well placed mask. They weren't perverted, or evil, or twisted, they were so different to everything I was used to…

“You're right, we probably shouldn't have,” I heard Watari mutter. I hid a little bit of a snigger. I knew Muraki hadn't heard him and I immediately like Watari and Tatsumi. They generally weren't afraid of my lord.

“Tsuzuki-domo wasn't expecting you. He's on the beach,” Tatsumi explained. I looked over the large field in the direction of the ocean. I could see it, sparkling.

“Kurosaki-kun, dismount from your horse,” Muraki barked. I did as I was told, wincing at my saddle sores and other aches as I straightened out my kimono and bowed low, like a bent over old man.

“You are to come with me to see Tsuzuki-san. I trust Watari-san can make sure my soldiers are suitably housed,” Muraki's voice dripped with mockery. I saw the gaijin's face briefly contort in disgust, but it was quickly hidden by a bow and a hasty retreat. The soldiers followed him.

“Walk in front of my horse, Kurosaki-kun. You do not need to be conscientious,” Muraki's eyes were gleaming. He knew as well as I that if I was tempted to run, I would now. I drudged along before them, trying my best not to fall over in the idiot kimono.

I began to feel queasy. Who was this Tsuzuki Asato? Was he cruel? If Muraki liked him he was probably more twisted than sin.

I found soft sand beneath my bare feet, and I looked up, only to drown in a surprised pair of violet eyes.

I had been warned by Tatsumi that my gift from Muraki was a slave. I hadn't even considered I'd want one. One look at this boy however and I immediately saw why Muraki wanted the boy so badly.

He had the most amazing eyes, a green that made the jade walls of Onimidori seem dull. They were framed by a soft face of sandy bangs. He was so slender he looked feminine.

“Ah, Tsuzuki-sama, I am truly honored to meet you again.” Oh yeah, Muraki's here… Right… I couldn't take my eyes of the boy. I was watching him constantly. He had dropped to his knees, spreading himself on the floor as was required of someone of the lower class.

“Muraki-domo. I am pleased to meet you again, although I am slightly surprised at your audacity to arrive early,” I replied icily. I didn't like Muraki; I had heard too many rumors. However, I had to be polite, not matter how displeased I was.

“I'm sure I can make it up to you somehow, Tsuzuki-san?” Muraki's voice made me shudder. I caught the boy looking up at me, his eyes were haunted, his face looked slightly pinched.

“I do not think that will be necessary, Muraki-san…” I paused. Finally I snapped, gesturing to the boy.

“For Ichiro's sake, stand up. If everyone would stop throwing themselves onto the ground around me I wouldn't have to worry about stepping on people's fingers all the time,” I tried to lighten the mood. The boy looked mortally afraid as he got to his feet, fidgeting and automatically wincing away from Muraki.

“As much as I adore small talk with you, Muraki-san, I have matters which need my attention, such as housing for my new… present…” I allowed myself a glare at Muraki. He chuckled.

“Ah, the Onimidori intelligence, no doubt you know precisely why Kurosaki Hisoka-kun is here?” Muraki was taking great joy in this. I nearly lost my temper. I was tired of playing games with this man. Once every few months he'd be here, trying to trick me into bed.

“Of course. I'd be glad to take him off your hands if you no longer need him. I'm sure he'll keep my bed warm much better than anyone else I can think of,” I taunted. The boy suddenly looked horrified, he was practically shuddering.

“I am glad he is to your tastes Tsuzuki-san,” Muraki smiled, hiding his anger badly. I just smiled back sweetly before moving towards the boy, circling my arms around his shoulders.

“Listen, kid, I need you to go and stand next to Tatsumi. Don't do or say anything, okay?” I instructed him. He nodded and stood next to Tatsumi, his eyes holding a strange mixture of childlike trust and fear.

“Muraki-domo! Muraki-domo!” Someone was galloping across the plain. As soon as the man was within range something flew through the air, landing on the ground before Hisoka.

The boy knelt down and picked up the object, calmly brushing the sand off as he handed it to Muraki.

“This is… This is the head of…” Muraki looked about to throw up, unusual for him. Hisoka choked back a sob himself.

“Satomi… This is the head of Satomi…” Muraki managed to splutter out. I frowned, I had never heard of that person before.

“The head of Satomi, Muraki-domo's tutor…” Hisoka explained. It was then that Muraki saw red, and he jumped onto his horse, galloping across the plains.

“Satomi-san…” Hisoka whispered from where he was still holding the head. He staggered forward, stripping off the black over robe to reveal a simple thin white robe underneath. He waded into the water, carefully lowering the head into the sea, washing off the blood.

“Tatsumi… He's…” I managed to choke out. Tatsumi sighed, also watching the boy.

“Aa. I know… Ne, Tsuzuki, you aren't thinking of…?” Tatsumi was looking alarmed and I felt bad for my thoughts. Yes, I had every intention of keeping him. I would give him his freedom though first, then I would win him over… Gods, he was beautiful…

“No. He will have his freedom Tat-” I stopped, pausing to chuckle. The boy had fallen over into the sea and was spluttering. He then found his feet, standing up. The robe had gone see through and it clung to his frame. I found myself staring as he turned; an intricate tribal design was carved onto his chest.

I blinked. Those designs… They were the scars of the curse of imprisonment. They made sure that he belonged to the one whom had cast the other half of the curse. It was a nasty curse; few had ever survived it for more than a few years. The caster often drained the cursed one's life and spiritual energy until they died, prolonging the life of that person.

Yet he looked so untouchable as he waded out from the sea, lifting his over robe to cover the head and keep it clean. Without hesitation he bowed to us and handed us the head.

“Muraki-domo… He will be wanting this when he returns…” Ah, his voice…. If there were anyone more perfect I would think they were a god themselves.

“Why don't we all go inside? Watari will have prepared some tea by now. Also, I heard that he was making anpan and I know how your sweet tooth won't last much longer without sugar, Tsuzuki-san,” Tatsumi said, light-heartedly giving me a push. I chuckled. Hisoka was watching us with wide eyes, as though we'd just done something horrific.

“Hisoka-san, would you like to come with us? I'm sure Watari will have prepared more than enough,” I offered. He looked like he'd been kicked in the gut.

“I-I-I…” I began then just gave up trying to speak and nodded his head. I took the cloth-wrapped head from him and mounted my horse, noting that Tatsumi was doing the same I looked to Hisoka to see there was no other horse. I sighed.

“Hisoka-san, come here. I will help you up onto my horse,” I told him. He nearly bolted like a startled deer; he was so tense when I lifted him up. He was cold, shivering from the seawater.

“Tatsumi-san, when we get back, please get Hisoka a proper kimono. Whatever this flimsy piece of crap Muraki's given him is meant to be, it certainly wasn't created for a man,” I said, putting my arms past Hisoka's waist to lead the horse. I immediately turned my senses over to the demon ones.

Demons see things on many planes of existence. There's the physical planes, planes one through four, that humans exist on. Planes five and six are the planes of magic and spirits. Plane seven is the afterlife, which none have seen.

I switched to the fifth plane. I detected a strong magical energy from Hisoka that was his own. Empathy… Oh dear god he must have suffered. There were two links coming off him going to another. It was most likely to Muraki. One was a gold chain, linking all his limbs to his neck and then stretching far across the plains. The other was a small stream of blood, his life force and magic being steadily drained. It was probably why he was so slight.

Even so, there seemed to be no end to his spiritual energy, he seemed to be constantly replacing it. Strange… It was almost demon-like in comparison…

But there was something else. Something I only caught a brief glimpse of it when Hisoka turned his head to look back at the ocean. On his temple, for a brief moment, I thought I saw a butterfly. But then it was gone, and all that was left was a scared face taking in my appearance as a demon…