TITLE: This Side of Materialistic Heaven

CHAPTER: 00

GENRE: Yaoi (Angst)

DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to does not belong to me… ^_^ only the weird story does.

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This Side of Materialistic Heaven

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PART 00: Imperfect Lunacy

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I never thought it would come to this.

He stood by the window, looking out, surveying the state of his new charge through the clear glass windows of the infirmary. Azure irises travelled appraisingly at his former partner, and deciding that the young man was not about to collapse anytime soon, he sighed and turned almost reluctantly away, his gaze settling on the inanimate bed whose sheets were rumpled beyond repair.

Now I know that I'm not of any importance. He thought almost mournfully. I have never been of importance. His memories threatened to make him mad. He remembered begging, indirectly of course, for just a little affection. He had been rebuked... and his psyche shattered... just like it shattered the moment the recent problem of Ju-ou-cho ended.

He found his gaze straying back to the brown-haired youth having such an intimate discussion with the youngest Shinigami... the blonde sprite who waltzed in a short time ago... with bottomless pools of green as eyes... who, without a doubt having the time of his life at the small comfort he was rewarded with when a slender arm snaked familiarly around his shoulders.

It hurt seeing such display of open affection.

It made him feel less welcome, even with his distance between the two of them.

I have never been important... I should have known... he's not the type to keep his promises anyway... How blind I was... how blind I am still!

Without warning, a hand, obviously meant to comfort, descended on his shoulder, stunning him to the point of crying out. Of course he didn't, but it was enough to jar him, electricity running through his veins at the unexpected contact. He whirled around, and his nerves finally went back to their former peace when the familiar features of his closest co-worker greeted his wary gaze.

"Something's bothering you." Watari Yutaka, Scientist extraordinaire, intoned, honey-glazed eyes peering seemingly into the depths of his soul.

It took him quite a while to notice that the blonde lacked two things - the thin-rimmed eyeglasses and the ever-present smile. It was quite an unpleasant surprise, and he did not like it one bit... but he tried to keep an indiscriminating front. He just hoped it wouldn't show... or he might wound the only one he had ever confided in his entire existence. He tried his best to crack his usual smile, however detached it had always seemed, just to prove the other's words wrong.

And he failed, raising suspicion that indeed, he was bothered.

Watari's gaze wandered to the youthful figures outside, snuggling under the Sakura trees, and understanding occurred instantaneously. After all, he wasn't labelled a genius for nothing. He turned back to his friend, a light-coloured eyebrow lifted in question. "Is it he that's bothering you so much... again?"

Blue eyes clouded even more with pain.

"Honestly." The scientist sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, resembling that of a displeased mother. "You're bothered by his way of captivating people, is that it?" He mused unhappily, stalking over to where the abandoned bed remained immobile and plopped wearily on the soft mattress, rumpling the sheets more. "You're bothered that he likes other people better than you."

He couldn't do anything but nod in supplication. He was not a good liar anyway, so why bother covering up now? Still silent, he turned away from his friend, eyes searching for his former partner - Tsuzuki, watching intently the, what he presumed to be, mock bickering outside. "Watari-san..."

Watari started at the raw desperation entwined with the familiar hushed tones. "Yes?" He asked, his eyes widening in shock at the defeated spirit before him, coming close to popping out of their sockets as his friend banged his head almost violently on the infirmary windows before leaning against it, shoulders heaving with much depression, a choked sob issuing out from the normally controlled frame. Instinctively, Watari stepped forward, reacting more on the other's severe shaking rather than on the next words he could not even learn to decipher.

"I... I am the wind... and the mountain is rejoicing upon my death..."

He wrapped his arms around the trembling form and closed his eyes, pressing his slightly damp cheeks on the broad back, tightening his hold inch by inch as the sobs intensified, consuming the once-proud form. "Please... don't be like this..." He pleaded, wishing that he could take away his friend's pain.

Watari's eyes snapped open at a particularly loud cry that echoed inside the room, remembering... and then wishing that he could pummel someone in revenge for what the other was going through... revenge for the one who created the man quivering uncontrollably in his arms... a lump of living misery.

"Tatsumi... please... stop crying..."

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"Yes."

Oriya did not have the faintest idea on what to do with the man sitting, defeated, across him. It was quite calming, the way the other seemed to lose all hope, seeming so vulnerable... and yet, it did not comfort him even a little bit. In fact, the way it calmed his nerves, the geisha house owner was sure that the wheels inside that devious head was once again turning... making him aware that somehow, he would bounce back... literally fighting.

He wondered who the next victim would be.

"Why are you going to leave? I don't understand... you can stay here for a while and try to earn money from an honest living... I mean, yeah, you do make money out of curing sick people, but... now that you don't have anything major to finance, you can just cut back, relax, and buy whatever your body craves for!" He pressed almost animatedly, his pipe stuck in his fingers, reminding him that if he did not take a puff soon, his fingers would be scorched from the heat of the burning tobacco. With flourish, he put down the wooden casing of his addiction and turned towards his friend expectantly.

He was quite relieved with the way the platinum-haired menace smiled so serenely. "I can do that, Oriya... but you see... I can't."

Dark brows furrowed. "And why not? Saki's perverted head isn't around anymore!" He argued, ignoring the sudden stiffening from the other's bruise-ridden frame. "Muraki, stop being bull-headed for the love of God!"

"I have an unfinished business to take care of." Came the quiet response. Muraki stared, reminiscing over what had happened not long ago.

"Unfinished business? With your little boyfriend?" Oriya snorted, tying his hair into a neat bun behind his head. "Or with the other one?"

Muraki's visible eye quirked as if in pain.

"I have to apologise."

Oriya, for the life of him couldn't believe what he was hearing. Oh, wow, the world must be ending! He thought, his chocolate eyes widening in surprise. Then, he frowned as a single thought plagued his mind. Snorting almost disdainfully, he stared pointedly at his best friend. "Apologise? You? I wonder, is that apology really from the heart, or are you just planning on playing until you have lover-boy wrapped around your proverbial pinkie?"

Muraki just laughed, irritating him all the more. "You think so highly of me... I'm touched."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Face it Muraki, if your intentions are really pure... you can never get him unless you make him feel that you..."

"Love him? That's easy, just a bouquet of roses and lots of TLC would do." Muraki cut him off, taking a sip of his ceremonial tea, grimacing at the taste that was not quite unpleasant but one that he did not learn to like.

How stupid could this guy get? Oriya sighed inwardly, mentally slapping the lights out of the devilish doctor. "Needed. You have to make him feel that you need him."

"I already did, remember?"

"No you didn't... you've betrayed him the worst way possible."

Muraki frowned. "I don't understand, Oriya... I made him feel needed... I chased enough times already!"

"That's because you needed something from him you dumb oaf!"

"It's true, but I really made him feel needed! I treated Tsuzuki-san as a prospective lover - well, at least when I wasn't thinking of chopping off his head and planting Saki's on the detached body..."

Oriya growled, rolling his eyes for real. He really is stupid. He thought crossly before throwing one of the floor pillows littering the room squarely at the confused face.

"Muraki."

"Huh?"

"I wasn't talking about Tsuzuki."

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It had been several months, and still, Tatsumi was disturbed enough to do anything but immerse himself more on his work. As long as his mind was consumed by his desire to increase their revenue, all those debit-credit whatnots... his mind is free from it's tormenting voices.

Day and night he slaved, toiling over sheets and poring over books, thinking of ways to save money for his department's extra allowances without hacking every single superior his shadows could find. He was about to close in on one particularly appealing idea when a sudden knock prompted a halt to his thoughts, and then vanishing to thin air. Cursing inwardly at whoever the hell it was banging on his door at such an ungodly hour, he got up and answered the offending knocks, offering his best scowling face - a scowl that faded instantly as he saw who was fidgeting at the door.

Now this was unexpected. He was somehow sure that the one to disturb him was Tsuzuki, or Watari, or even Hisoka... but...

He blinked.

And blinked again.

"Terazuma-san?" He asked almost in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Said boy was fidgeting; almost skittishly holding out a manila envelope - a fat one - to him, looking everywhere but straight at his eyes. "Uh... ohayo gozaimasu Tatsumi-san..." He said weakly. "Kanoe-kachou told me to give this to you... uh... the others... he said they were indispensable at the moment... whatever that means...."

Intrigued, Tatsumi took the package from Terazuma, careful not to let their skin touch. It wouldn't do well for the boy to faint dead from nervousness right in front of his office doorway. "Thank you Terazuma-san... I appreciate your efforts. You can go now."

As soon as those words escaped his mouth, the other bolted... an action that had particularly saddened him at that time. Was he that scary? Was his frightening visage the reason why nobody, except for his closest co-workers, would try to be close to him? He sighed, shaking his head as he closed the door silently. Slowly, he strode towards his executive chair and plopped heavily onto the well-used leather. He ripped the edge of the envelope carefully so as not to damage its contents and turned it over, letting the assortments of paper it contained to land unceremoniously on his cherry-wood table.

He picked a stray pink-coloured slip and stared.

No - this cannot be happening...

He thought, his eyes turning wildly at the other pieces of paper littering his desk. He frantically picked up a piece of paper and let out a soft whimper.

It was an order for him to take up a mission. A soul defying the law of the house of candles...

Name...

"Mu... ra... ki..."

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TBC

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