Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ This Side of Materialistic Heaven ❯ Part 01: Screams of the Haunted ( Chapter 2 )
TITLE: This Side of Materialistic Heaven
CHAPTER: 01
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 01: Screams of the Haunted
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Tatsumi walked aimlessly through the country fields of the Japanese countryside. His eyes were staring determinedly at the grassy earth, completely oblivious to the majestic scenery passing him by... and the fact that he was alone in this natural paradise. All he could think about was that familiar face... those sparkling eyes... that beautifully curved mouth that had vowed never to possess someone else. He was captivated by the piercing gaze... enslaved by the fleeting touches... scorched by the flame of pure unadulterated passion.
He thought it would last... even with the distance stretching between them for only a few years. And then his personal god practically dumped him in favour of another... discarded like a deck of cards used for a round of strip poker.
And now, he's hunting him down.
Before, it had been Tsuzuki doing the job, but somehow, the higher-ups realized that the illustrious secretary Tatsumi Seiichirou had been pulling strings in order for his co-workers to face his own menace, especially that one everybody's - well, ALMOST everybody's lusting on. He knew he needed to apologise to Tsuzuki, but he couldn't get the courage to do it. If the boy knew, everything, fragile as they were, would crumble... and he would lose another important person he had the pleasure of being acquainted with.
He couldn't afford it. He was close to snapping, as it is... no use adding another source of agony... especially one so close to home.
He sighed, still consumed by his painful thoughts, thinking of, as always, the past. The inescapable past he had the habit of reliving. He had found himself, like that particular time before, in deep murky waters.
He was once again in trouble.
Only this time...
No one's going to rescue him.
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"Arigatou gozaimasu bishounen-sama!"
"Lilin!" Came the gasp of the somewhat scandalized parent. "Oh, I'm sorry, sensei... she's just like that..."
Muraki nodded graciously as he gave a little wave to the little girl grinning ear-to-ear at him. He had never felt more at ease than where he was at present. His work was doing fine, he was doing fine... and yet a little voice inside him was nagging to go back and surrender himself to the God of Death, Enma-daiou himself. It was probably guilt... guilt for every single act of atrociousness he had committed in the past... guilt that he had taken his own life, only to chicken out and run away from the numerous Shinigami probably on the prowl in search of his lost soul.
Guilt... that he had lost the guts to face Him.
Muraki shook his head as if to clear it... just as he had done these past few months. He had been re-evaluating himself recently... and found that he was absolutely lacking.
And if not for Oriya... he might have lost that one true emotion he had for just one person.
He just did not know if he wanted to thank his best friend profusely... or to hack him off to pieces for reminding him. He had pushed the memories far back in his mind the moment he learned of the existence of Tsuzuki Asato... deliberately forgotten all those precious moments he somehow knew he would never trade for anything in the whole world - that is, when he was younger... when he was more impulsive and sympathetic.
It had been a shock to him to catch the glimpse of Him before he abducted the violet-eyed Shinigami.
I never thought it would come to this.
He closed his eyes and pressed trembling fingers on his aching temple, leaning back on his plush leather chair, tilting his head back as if in complete agony. It hurt to even think about the past... but he could not help doing it... it was simply too vivid and too important for him to push back... just as he had learned the moment he had glimpsed a piece of his past in those shocked blue depths that horrible night of pure cannibalistic quality. That annoying girl's cries for help and the satisfying sight of her flesh torn by his shikigami's piercing teeth might have somewhat calmed him from being in a Tsuzuki-induced high... but then He had to come along and protect the snivelling man sitting crumpled on the fertile piece of earth. That moment, he was on high again... and he never came back down.
Damn you... Tatsumi...
It was almost nighttime, and frankly, Muraki was getting restless, aware that he would not be safe from the prying senses of the unfortunate Shinigami probably combing the outskirts of the small town nearby. Shaking his head wearily, he stood up and turned off his desk lamp. Fleetingly, he wondered who would be sent to go and track him down. For sure it wouldn't be Tsuzuki, since he would probably still nursing some of the lingering wounds now... not Hisoka either... that boy would be too busy trying to calm his partner down. Maybe it was that overly happy blonde guy with shiny glasses. What was his name again?
"I saw Watari-san again today... he was with the boy and Blue Eyes, demanding I give them the key to your mad scientist lair..."
Ah. Watari... right. Oriya revealed that while waking a sip of that horrendously disgusting tea he loved. Maybe it was Watari tracking him down... He understood from what Oriya told him that the blonde and Tatsumi were the best of friends... or so it seemed. Muraki felt an ache in his chest. He couldn't be hurt by that revelation, could he? After all, he shouldn't even feel things... he was supposed to be dead already, right?
Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, he locked the door to the surgical room, and strode purposefully to the clinic door. After making sure that everything was secure, he turned, his main objective to go look for the place where he parked his car. Assuming that he left it somewhere behind one of the small parking lots in the suburban part of the countryside, he headed for the nearest familiar home and was about to knock when he saw something protruding from the tall brushes. It came to him with clinical alarm that that something was in actuality... a human arm.
Hastily discarding the intent to ask for the whereabouts of his car (he was being too forgetful these days...), his doctor's instincts took over and he hurried to where a potential patient lay, after all, contrary to everyone's belief... he wasn't that heartless. Heart pounding in his ears, he dragged the limp body to the clearing and checked the pulse. Assured that the person was alive, his eyes strayed to his patient's face... and his heartbeat stopped for a moment before pounding even faster than before.
Blood washed over the perfect features, pale skin contrasting with the river of life gushing out from a mangled forehead... claw marks making their way down one smooth cheek. What Muraki couldn't understand was why this man was still bleeding. Shouldn't he be healed just moments after all of these wounds happened? Letting out a bated breath, he heaved the body in his arms, careful of the injuries, lest his patient had more - albeit incidental ones. He wouldn't dream of hurting him more than he had.
As he thought before... he wasn't that completely heartless.
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GROWL!
He turned around in surprise. Two bears were in combat, and in the countryside, there were plenty of them. So lost was he in his thoughts that he did not notice that they had seen him... until it was too late. It was true that bears do not actually kill humans on purpose... however, given this situation, he knew that he was going to be a mangled something the moment the two great beasts were through with him. They were at the climax of their yearly mating ritual... they were fighting over a female in the small clearing he had just trespassed. And they thought him another competitor. They saw him as someone weak... if only they knew how right they were.
He did not know what to do... didn't know where to go. He was still quite a long way from the nearest suburban community... in his weakened spiritual state, he couldn't even teleport. How pathetic could he be? All those ceaseless paperwork had made him too tired to recharge his batteries... and here he was, about to become an afternoon snack.
A wave of pure fear engulfed him. He couldn't move...
He couldn't even defend himself as a huge grappling paw descended upon him.
Now, if only someone would come and help him...
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Muraki patiently swabbed a profusely sweating brow, trying to prevent the unwanted moisture from seeping into the bandages and infecting the almost lethal wounds. His uncovered eyes softened as the man he was nursing swished his head fitfully from side to side.
He's dreaming about what had happened... whatever that is. How could he let himself be reduced to this? He thought sympathetically. He tilted his head slightly to the side, watching as momentary peace settled on the feverish features. Muraki couldn't help but smile, placing a warm hand on the damp cheek lovingly. He was not so surprised that the other leant to his hand, taking the warmth almost greedily, rubbing lightly with a small sound of pleasure.
The body stirred, and with enough experience, Muraki's eye caught signs of consciousness. Gently, he let his hand drop on the bedsheets and remained motionless, waiting for those magnificent eyes to open up and focus on their surroundings... waiting for them to focus on him, wanting to know how they would look like at the moment of recognition.
And those beautiful eyes... they did not fail his expectations.
They widened, almost to the point of popping as they focused on him... only on him. Inwardly, the doctor was quite satisfied. It had been sometime since anyone gave him their undivided attention. For once, he wished to know what was going on in the other's head, wanted to know the thoughts circling in around the overworked brain... needing to know the unvoiced opinion lying behind those crystal orbs.
Without warning, a smile wove into Muraki's features as he met the confounded stare directed at him.
"Ohayo, Tatsumi."
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Honestly, the secretary did not know whether he was still dreaming or not.
Maybe he was, but a sudden pain on his forehead proved otherwise. He was awake from a dream of the past... and now, in the present, it was still haunting him. He was lying on a bed of sorts and staring up at the most beautiful sight in the world... and the most dangerous.
"Muraki...san..." He whispered almost inaudibly. He tried to get up from his weaker position, but was pushed gently back, prompting him to start protesting. But something in the doctor's eyes silenced him.
Something he couldn't quite place...
The same look he remembered years ago, but still did not know what it represents...
That same look...
"Tatsumi." He closed his eyes as his body shivered uncontrollably, the deep baritone made him want to melt... he felt disoriented. Kami-sama... if someone were to rescue him... why Muraki? Why HIM? A hand was touching his cheek... the same touch he yearned for all these time... the touch deliberately denied him for so long that he wanted to keep it, pounce on it the moment warm skin touched warm skin. "What happened?"
For the life of him, he did not know what to say.
Tatsumi swallowed weakly, trying to make sense of everything. How could he possibly say that he was caught off-guard by a couple of sexually matured bears? Mauled by them even? How could he possibly explain the weakness of his body? That... even if he was a Shinigami, he now did not have the capacity of healing himself as fast as the others due to deliberate self-deprivation? How could he possibly tell this man to his face that he was reduced to this because of him?
He couldn't say it! He did not have the heart to say it!
His pride wouldn't let him... and it was devastating his soul.
"You nearly died... again." Muraki said softly, his hands still caressing the damp cheek. "I thought a Shinigami heals himself fast enough so as to prevent a second death? Tell me what happened... please."
His words were not of a question. They were of a command. Tatsumi opened his eyes as he bristled from the acute twang of authoritativeness entwined with the seemingly deceptive tone. He stared at the silvery depths of the other's eyes and shook his head slightly.
Muraki's brows furrowed. "Tatsumi... come on now, tell me what happened to get you in this state... at this rate, you're going to kill yourself..."
"Why do you care?" Tatsumi was quite horrified at the immediate answer that he blurted out. Awkwardly, he ignored the other's shock and looked away from the penetrating gaze. "You never cared before."
A frustrated sigh echoed in the brightly lit room. "Believe it or not, I do." The doctor shot back. "I feel responsible."
Tatsumi turned his gaze back to him. "Why?"
"Because somehow, I know that you came out of Ju-ou-cho just to seek me out... It's my fault that you've been out in the open and got attacked. I should've just come willingly to the land of the dead."
Tatsumi was nonplussed. "It isn't your fault at all..." A tiny voice inside him rumbled at the words he was saying. "It's my job."
"Yes, but if I hadn't done that..."
"Muraki-san, look." Tatsumi said weakly, grimacing as pain shot through his bandaged side. "You've done a great many things to disturb the peace in my workplace. You didn't feel guilty about that. You didn't feel guilty about disrupting Tsuzuki-san and Hisoka-san's lives..." He was in a roll. "You did not feel guilty when you upset the balance of power whenever you unleash that magic you have... you never felt guilty for using m -"
Tatsumi's eyes widened and he stopped his tirade heart pounding as he gazed helplessly at the pallid features hovering above him. He nearly let out his own resentments... his own sentiments... it was simply unforgivable. Blushing from his momentary emotional lapse, he turned away again, unable to gaze back with much fervour when the familiar eye became shadowed... guarded... and almost... sorrowful.
"Gomen nasai... Muraki-san..." He whispered softly, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting for a destructive blow to tear his body open.
It never came.
What ensued though was something beyond his own comprehension...
Muraki's warm hand cupped his uninjured cheek and turned his face that they were face to face... or at least that's what Tatsumi discovered when his eyes snapped open and met intense silvery gaze... Without warning, the doctor swooped down, his hair moving so finely in the air, and claimed his gaping lips.
Tears welled up in troubled azure eyes, streaming down and wetting the chocolate-coloured strands of hair at the side of his head, wetting the fingers running through them, tangling through them with such soothing motions that Tatsumi felt more tears gush out of them.
And then he heard a soft whisper as Muraki let up momentarily for a breath of clean air before plunging in again...
"I'm sorry."
And memories came rushing back.
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TBC
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A/N: Thanks for the comments guys! I really appreciate them... *grins* I hope you all liked this part! Please don't forget to review! ^___^