Boys Don't Cry
by Leareth
Chapter Four
Morning. The period after the start of the workday when everyone has just arrived fresh and rested, and therefore, the time of day when productivity is at its peak. Except when there's a distraction. A very loud distraction.
Tatsumi would have thought that by studiously ignoring the noise outside he was making it clear that he did not want to be involved. Even when every other shinigami in the room had left their desks and gone outside to see what exactly was going on, Tatsumi refused to move and instead focused on his reporting, a task that with every minute grew more and more difficult. Still, given his sinking feeling about who was the centre of the ruckus outside, his stance of non-involvement couldn't last.
"Tatsumi!" Heavy footsteps stomped up to his desk. "Are you going to do something about all this?!"
Tatsumi glanced up once at the exasperated face calling him, then calmly returned to his work. "No, Ito-san, I will not."
Ito, a middle-aged shinigami who was as hidebound as one could possibly get, was not put off by the other's reply. "Tat.Su.Mi," he repeated, biting out each syllable as a crash was heard, "can you please go and do something about Tsuzuki-kun? You're the only one with any hope of talking sense into him."
"Quite the contrary. Anyone can talk sense into Tsuzuki-san if they have a hammer."
What little patience Ito had left deserted him at this point. "For Enma's sake, Tatsumi, Tsuzuki-kun is causing havoc out there! Do something!"
Tatsumi got out another sheet of paper. "If Tsuzuki-san's actions bother you so, take care of it yourself. I'm his partner, not his babysitter."
"That's the point!" Ito almost yelled. "You're his partner, so you go do something!"
Tatsumi didn't even bother to reply this time. There was more yelling outside, along with a rather suspicious smashing sound. Tatsumi didn't look up. Ito gritted his teeth.
"Tatsumi, if you don't do something to stop Tsuzuki-kun, then I'll go get a petition from everyone in the JuOhCho to hold you responsible for whatever damage your partner has caused out there. Which means," here Ito paused for dramatic effect and leaned over the desk to whisper as the other shinigami stiffened, "you will have to pay for everything."
Tatsumi twitched.
* * *
Konoe blinked as he approached his office. There was a crowd in front of it, all trying to look inside but not actually entering. They were so engrossed in the spectacle that none of them noticed the Chief's approach. Pushing his way through the crowd, careful to keep his hold on the folder under his arm, Konoe blinked yet again at the sight that greeted him.
"You went through all of that for what?!" shouted Tatsumi incredulously.
Tsuzuki cringed in Konoe's desk-chair, sheltering something in his hands. "She flew in the window and couldn't get out! She got frightened, so I ..." He trailed off as Tatsumi's glasses glinted dangerously. After a month in partnership with the older shinigami, Tsuzuki had learnt to read the warning signs. Usually the hard way.
"You were running through the corridors like a mad thing." Tatsumi's voice was icy cold. "You've disrupted the work of your fellow colleagues. You've caused a mess throughout the building. If there had been a fire or earthquake your actions would be understandable. But for a bird?"
"It wasn't my fault!" Tsuzuki protested again. In his lap, something white and feathered rubbed its head against his skin as if to comfort him. "Ito left the window open and he—"
"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused?" snapped Tatsumi. "Not only are you going to be held responsible, by virtue of association so am I! How many times do I have to tell you that I do not work with idiots—" Someone in front of Konoe snickered. Tatsumi heard the snicker and turned around glaring blue daggers at everyone. "And get back to your work!" he barked.
Nobody with any gram of sense disobeyed Tatsumi when he was in a bad mood. Quick as a flash the crowd disappeared, leaving Konoe by himself.
Tatsumi blinked. So did Tsuzuki and the bird. "Kacho?" asked Tatsumi in disbelief.
Eyebrows in his hair, Konoe stepped into the office. It was a little more disorganised than usual. "Tatsumi. Tsuzuki. What are you doing in my office?"
Tatsumi seemed to wince. "Kacho, let me reassure you that I will personally see to it that my partner returns your office to its original state."
"Original state? This is pretty much its original state. Except my chair is usually behind my desk." There was a bird-like trill from Tsuzuki's hands, and Konoe frowned. "Tsuzuki, why do you have a bird?"
"Huh? Oh." Tsuzuki held up the bird. "Ito left the window open so she flew in by accident. Ito was showing off how he moves things without touching them with his teleki-whatsit—"
"Telekinesis," supplied Tatsumi.
"—and hit her with a book. She got really scared and flew off; I didn't want her to hurt herself."
There was a pause as this information sank in.
"So you're saying that Ito let the bird in, frightened it causing it to fly away in panic, and you went after it," said Konoe at last. Beside him, Tatsumi muttered something about sentimentality that Konoe ignored.
Tsuzuki nodded. "I think she's okay. Can I let her go now?"
"Please do. Be quick, I have an assignment for you two."
There was a thankful smile from Tsuzuki. The shinigami went to the window and opened it, speaking softly to the bird in his hands, while Tatsumi helped Konoe return his office into a more appropriate state.
"Idiot," said Tatsumi under his breath, just loud enough for Konoe to hear. "No wonder the bird likes him; he's such a feather-head."
Konoe swept up a sheaf of papers, frowning slightly at the Tsuzuki-sized shoe-print on the top one. "Cut him some slack, Tatsumi," he chided. "He's just a little soft-hearted."
Tatsumi sighed. "That's the problem."
Tsuzuki closed the window, turning back with a smile. "All done."
"Good." Konoe returned to his now organised desk, and sat down. Back in business mode, Tatsumi went to join Tsuzuki on the other side, both standing at attention. "Now. I've got a small assignment for you in Kyoto. This particular one was reported by the Earl himself."
"The Earl?"
Konoe blinked; Tsuzuki had a funny look on his face. "Is something the matter, Tsuzuki?"
The young shinigami forced an attentive smile back on his face. "N-nothing."
Konoe glanced at Tatsumi, who seemed indifferent to his partner's reaction. "You were saying, Kacho?" Tatsumi asked.
"Ahem. Anyway. To cut a long story short, one of the candles in the Castle was due to be extinguished three days ago. It's still burning. Your assignment is to put it out."
"Put it out?" Tsuzuki looked confused. "Why can't the Earl do it?"
Konoe shrugged. "We don't know. It just won't go out."
"Has he tried pouring water on it?"
Tatsumi rolled his eyes. "Tsuzuki-san," he said patiently, "these are not normal candles. Haven't you learnt that yet? Or did it slip your mind when morning tea cake came along?"
The younger shinigami winced. Konoe coughed. "Since the Earl cannot extinguish the candle normally, he's asked us to send someone in to do it the hard way. That would be you two."
"What's the hard way?" asked Tsuzuki.
Konoe glanced at Tatsumi. Tatsumi glanced back, one eyebrow raised. The old chief dodged. "Ah, here's the case-file," he said hastily, handing it to Tsuzuki, who stared at it, "and here's the subject," he gave Tatsumi a photo, "if you have any questions, Tsuzuki, ask Tatsumi. He'll explain it to you. Off you go now."
He could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped several degrees as Tatsumi shot him an icy glare. Konoe sweatdropped. Tsuzuki, frowning as he looked through the case-file, didn't notice.
* * *
"I still don't get it," said Tsuzuki, hands stuck in his coat pockets as he and Tatsumi walked down the busy Kyoto street. "Why can't the Earl just blow the candle out or something? Then we wouldn't have to work."
Tatsumi, looking down at the street map so as to not look at Tsuzuki, was starting to lose his patience. Bad enough that Konoe had dumped it on him to explain it all ... "The candles in the Castle of Candles represent human lives, Tsuzuki-san," he said with a sigh. "You can't just blow them out like candles on a birthday cake. You have to let them go out themselves."
"So what's wrong with this candle?" asked Tsuzuki. "Shouldn't it have just gone out by itself?"
"It should have. Why it hasn't I don't know."
"So I guess we find out, then."
"Yes. We find out. Then we fix the problem."
Tsuzuki smiled. "That can't be too hard. So where do we start?"
Can't be too hard. Tatsumi's lips tightened. "According to the map, our destination should be just around the corner. The subject of our investigation will be in there." Without looking at his partner he reached out and grasped his arm to prevent the younger shinigami, distracted by a passing sweets cart, from walking onto the road. "Eyes in front, Tsuzuki-san." After being partnered with Tsuzuki for a month, he knew how oblivious he could be at times. On the other hand, he was still no closer to working out just why or to what extent Tsuzuki Asato exerted an influence over him.
It was strange. On average Tsuzuki managed to get under Tatsumi's skin at least once a day and Tatsumi was fully aware that the latest betting pastime in the office was gambling on how much longer before Tatsumi really blew up and Tsuzuki started looking for a new partner. So far no one had won. By anyone's calculation Tsuzuki was exactly the kind of person whom Tatsumi would not work with – and yet Tatsumi still kept him on. Tatsumi was as clueless as everyone else as to why, but he was determined to find out, no matter how long it took. So far they had been partnered together for little over a month, and completed perhaps just under a dozen cases together. In that time Tatsumi had watched his partner carefully, each day discovering a little more about his partner. True, Tsuzuki was impulsive and silly sometime – correction, a lot of the time – but after a couple of more dangerous cases involving demons and such, Tatsumi learnt that when the situation called seriousness, Tsuzuki could easily rise to that level. His ease of commanding the top-ranking shikigami who listened to him was certainly impressive. Tatsumi only wished that Tsuzuki could bring some of the seriousness into everyday life and save himself the trouble of being yelled at for things, little things like eating messily or drinking too much that just rubbed up the wrong way with Tatsumi's controlling attitude.
Underneath all the smiles and silliness and strength, however, Tatsumi had discovered a disturbingly fragile soul. He had glimpsed it that first case he had done with Tsuzuki with the wife and her dead husband, and as he spent more time with Tsuzuki the more it was confirmed. Given that shinigami dealt in death and the supernatural, trauma and pain was to be expected, but usually only for the mortals involved. Shinigami, like police and detectives, were supposed to distance themselves from their work, something Tatsumi had easily learnt to do. Tsuzuki, however, had an alarming tendency to empathise or even befriend those he would inevitably hurt, and as a result suffered himself when the job was done. That left Tatsumi to clean things up. It was a far from enjoyable task. Tatsumi had never been good with people to begin with, and now he was responsible for a person who periodically needed reassurance of personal self-worth. That by itself was bad enough, but what made it worse was that at such times Tatsumi found himself wanting – nay, found himself driven – to do something to make Tsuzuki feel better. One look, one thought of amethyst eyes threatening to spill with tears, and Tatsumi had to consciously tell himself not to do something he could regret later. He didn't understand it, but he certainly knew what it was. It was a weakness, and Tatsumi didn't like weaknesses. Weaknesses had to be eliminated. To do that, they first had to be recognised and studied, and that was something Tatsumi was determined to accomplish.
In the meantime, but, he would stay and watch over Tsuzuki.
After some minutes of walking, they stopped and looked at their destination. "A hospital?" asked Tsuzuki.
Tatsumi nodded. "Yes, a hospital. Come on." He led the way, brushing past bustling nurses and patients in wheelchairs and worried relatives. As they progressed deeper inside, he realised that Tsuzuki was lagging behind.
"Tsuzuki-san." Tatsumi turned around. The younger shinigami was hanging back looking apprehensive. "Hurry up."
Tsuzuki jumped to avoid a rushing doctor. His face, Tatsumi realised, was tense. "I'm coming." He took a deep breath and resumed walking. It was forcedly casual, and he looked as if he would bolt at any second.
Tatsumi frowned. "Are you all right, Tsuzuki-san?"
"I'm ok." Having reached Tatsumi, Tsuzuki seemed to unconsciously move closer as if looking for some support. "It's just that ... I don't like hospitals."
"Why not?"
"I just don't."
"Is it bad enough that you can't do this assignment?"
"No ..."
"Good." Tatsumi started walking again. "Follow closely then."
Tsuzuki obeyed. "Where exactly are we going?"
"Palliative Care."
He sensed, rather than saw, the amethyst eyes frown as they headed to the back area of the hospital, where the windows faced over a garden. "What's that?"
Tatsumi paused before opening the door. "This."
They walked inside. Tsuzuki froze. It was a large room, filled with sunlight and quiet murmurs. People of various ages sat or walked with the aid of nurses in comfortable robes, or entertained visitors from the comfort of a lounge chair. Most were smiling. Their smiles were sad. All of them were looking at Tatsumi and Tsuzuki, openly staring while the nurses and doctors brushed past the two shinigami not seeing them. Tsuzuki unconsciously inched a little closer towards the exit.
"Tsuzuki-san," said Tatsumi. The younger shinigami started. "You are obviously not comfortable here. Do you want to wait for me outside?"
He really thought that Tsuzuki would leave. To his surprise – and unease – he didn't. "I'm okay, Tatsumi." As if to prove it, Tsuzuki took the file from Tatsumi and scanned it. Once he found whatever he was looking for, he headed towards another set of doors that led to the wards, trying to look as if he had a right to be there. Tatsumi quietly went as well, watching his partner's back and wondering at this little revelation; Tsuzuki Asato disliked hospitals, more specifically, this section, where those who were doomed to die were made comfortable. Tatsumi wondered what that meant, if anything.
Tsuzuki led them to a private room. The door was shut, but there was sunlight shining from beneath it. Tsuzuki double-checked that it was the right place, but hesitated in opening the door. Tatsumi motioned for him to wait, half-closing his eyes and concentrating. There were people talking behind the door.
"Has she eaten anything?"
"No, doctor, but I made her drink some milk."
"So the only nutrition she's receiving is through the IV and life-support?"
"Yes."
A sigh. "Refusing to eat, her body's shutting down. It won't be long now."
"You said that three days ago."
"I know, and I don't understand. By all rights it should be over already." Sound of movement, then footsteps approaching the door. Tatsumi motioned Tsuzuki back. "Let her sleep."
"You're not going to keep her under observation?"
"All we're doing is waiting for the end. Check on her every hour. There's not much we can do." The doorknob turned. "And still no one has come to visit?"
"No."
The door swung open, and a doctor and nurse exited the room. Both wore wearily resigned expressions. "I think that's the hardest thing of all, that not even her parents have come to see her," murmured the nurse as they walked past the shinigami down the hall. "Poor—"
The rest of the sentence was lost as Tatsumi tugged on Tsuzuki's arm to go inside the room before the door closed. They managed it easily, and as soon as the door shut time slowed. It was a small room, with a window looking over the garden. Crayon drawings were stuck on the walls giving the place some colour. The focus of the room was the hospital bed and its bank of life-support equipment, and the focus of the shinigami's attention was on the bed's occupant.
Tatsumi heard Tsuzuki give a soft cry. The patient was a young girl, probably about nine or ten years of age. She looked nothing like her photo, for her head swathed in bandages. Her sleeping face was turned towards the window, and in the light the shinigami could see how pale and gaunt she was, like a skeleton with skin. The room was completely silent except for the monotonous beeping of the life-support system. Sitting in her arms like a helpless guardian angel was a worn teddy bear with a yellow ribbon around its neck. One of its eyes was falling out.
Tatsumi looked away and picked up a medical report by her bedside. Tsuzuki didn't move as he read aloud. "Suzanne Aso. Age nine. Cancer. It's her." He put the medical report down and looked at his partner. "Tsuzuki-san."
The younger shinigami jumped. "What is it?"
"We've found her."
"... What are we doing?"
Tatsumi drew a deep breath, and again promised himself that he was going to have a good long talk with Kacho over this whole making him explain thing. "This girl is the one whose candle was due to go out three days ago. In other words, we have to take her back with us."
The amethyst eyes grew horrified. "You mean we have to kill her?"
"Yes."
"But, but that's—"
"Our job, Tsuzuki-san," said Tatsumi, cutting him off. "Her illness is incurable, there's no way she can recover. Living like this can't be painless, either. Even if it wasn't our duty as shinigami, releasing her from life is probably the best that can be done for her."
Tsuzuki was backing towards the door again. "No. No, I can't do this."
"Tsuzuki-san—"
"She's a child, Tatsumi!"
As Tatsumi had feared, Tsuzuki wasn't taking this well. He tried to speak calmly, with reason, hoping that Tsuzuki would not look at him in that way he feared ... "Tsuzuki-san. Listen to me. We have no choice."
"That's ridiculous; you always have a choice—"
Tsuzuki broke off as there was a whisper of movement from the bed. The two shinigami turned around. The girl's fingers tensed on the bear, and her closed eyes tightened. Then they opened. Tatsumi instinctively moved in front of Tsuzuki, knowing that if the girl looked at Tsuzuki, any hope he had of doing this would be gone. Tsuzuki would see the girl no longer as a ‘job' but as a person, with a personality, someone he could connect with.
The girl sat up very slowly, biting her lip in obvious pain but refusing to give into it and lie back down. Tatsumi's limited reikan ability could sense her determination radiating in waves. He found himself willing her to accomplish her goal. She managed it, finally, flopping back against the pillows breathing hard, clutching her teddy bear close. Then she opened her eyes. They were blue. The girl blinked a few times at the two men standing beside her bed. When she saw Tatsumi, her eyes widened.
"... Papa?"
Tatsumi blinked. So did Tsuzuki. Neither of them could respond as the girl leaned forward as far as her weakness and the IV in her thin arm would allow. "Papa?" she repeated, her death's head of a face gaining life with excitement. "Is that you?"
Tatsumi found his tongue. He could feel Tsuzuki shaking behind him. "No, Miss Aso. I'm not your father."
"Oh." Despite her obvious disappointment, there was a small if rather sad smile on the girl's face. "I didn't really think so. I heard that my Papa had golden hair, but you have blue eyes, so I thought ... well, I hoped." She blushed, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Um, so who are you?"
Before Tatsumi could stop him, Tsuzuki came forward and approached the bed with a kind expression. "Hello, Su-chan. I'm Tsuzuki Asato, and this is my partner, Tatsumi."
Suzanne was smiling again. Tsuzuki had that effect on people. "Hello, onii-san. This is Paul," she said seriously, holding out one of her teddy's paws out to Tsuzuki. "He's pleased to meet you."
Tsuzuki shook the teddy's paw with far more dignity than a stuffed toy should be allowed. Tatsumi stifled a groan. This was bad, very bad. By connecting with Suzanne Tsuzuki was setting himself up for a very bad fall.
"Why are you here, onii-san?" asked Suzanne curiously.
Tsuzuki blanched. "Uh ... we're here to visit you," he said finally.
"Really? Are you friends of Papa?"
Tatsumi shook his head. "No, Miss Aso, we don't know your father."
"Oh."
"Why are you here, Su-chan?" asked Tsuzuki, trying to change the subject as Suzanne's face dropped.
Suzanne tried to smile. "I'm very sick. I can't live at home. Mama sent me here because she says this place can make me comfortable. I don't mind, except they cut off all my hair. I liked my hair; it was dark and silky. Mama said it was just how Papa liked." The blue eyes grew wistful. "I've never met my Papa before – Mama said he went away on a big ship."
A big ship, that certainly fit the shinigami's report on her. According to what Tatsumi had read Suzanne's mother had fallen pregnant to an American sailor who had left with his ship never to return.
"I really want to see Papa sometime soon," Suzanne was saying to Tsuzuki. "Mama told me last time she came that he would come back, and that he'd love me because I'm so pretty. Well, I used to be, before the doctors cut off my hair to do an operation." She made a face.
Tsuzuki shook his head. "That's not true, Su-chan. You're a very pretty girl. Blue eyes are really pretty."
Suzanne brightened up. Meantime, Tatsumi was racking his brains of a polite way to end the conversation before it went any further. It was too late already. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
The girl giggled, hugging the teddy close. "You're nice, onii-san. And your eyes are just as pretty. I've never seen purple eyes before." Suddenly she went very serious. "Do people tease you about your eyes too, onii-san?"
Standing behind Tsuzuki, Tatsumi couldn't see his face. He did, however, see his partner's shoulders stiffen. "Not anymore."
"How did you make them stop?" asked Suzanne curiously.
Something dark and cold registered on Tatsumi's reikan ability for a brief moment. "I can't remember."
"Oh. It doesn't matter – no one teases me here. There were a few girls who lived near me who did." Suddenly Suzanne coughed. Tatsumi started as a few flecks of blood appeared on the bed.
"Tatsumi." Tsuzuki turned to look at him. His eyes, Tatsumi noticed uneasily, were growing dangerously bright. "Get a doctor."
"No, it's okay. I do this a lot." Suzanne tried to smile and reach for a tissue box on her beside. Tsuzuki pulled out a few and leaned forward to wipe her mouth. It must have tickled a little, because Suzanne giggled. "Thank you."
Tsuzuki smiled. "It's no problem."
"Oh! I know!" Suzanne must have suddenly thought of something. She sat up a little, searching the room, and found Tatsumi again. "Um, excuse me," he began hesitantly.
The contrast between Suzanne's behaviour to Tsuzuki and Tatsumi was painfully apparent. Tatsumi wondered, if he somehow managed to go outside of himself and see his face from another's point of view, was it really that frightening? "Yes, Miss Aso?" he asked.
"Um, the small cupboard beside you? Can you open it please?" Tatsumi did so. "It's on the bottom shelf."
Tatsumi knelt down and found a small pile of blank paper and a box of crayons. He gathered them all up and stood. "These?"
Suzanne nodded, and he brought them over to the bed, gently placing them down. Tatsumi rolled a bed-table over, wondering what the girl was doing. Suzanne forced herself to sit up straighter. With extreme focus she opened the box of crayons, pulled a piece of paper over, and began to draw.
"Mama says that it's good to thank people properly," she said seriously. She stuck her tongue out as she drew tulip-shaped flowers in red, yellow, purple, blue and pink. Then she got out the green and drew stems and leaves. Once done she proudly held up her work and gave it to Tsuzuki. "Here you go, onii-san!"
Tsuzuki laughed and accepted it. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome!" The girl beamed, cuddling her teddy bear. "I like drawing," she said quietly. "I draw every day as many things as possible. I collect all the pictures together because I want to show them to Papa so he can see what I do. But you can have that one, Onii-san. It's a present."
Tatsumi's eyes darted worriedly from the life-support system to Tsuzuki's face to Suzanne, and back again. Tsuzuki ignored him.
"I'm sure your Papa would be very proud of you," said Tsuzuki softly.
If he knows she exists, thought Tatsumi silently. Which he probably didn't. He had sailed off on a warship back to his own country, leaving behind an unmarried woman who carried his child and never looked back. And now here was that child, holding onto life with nothing else but sheer determination to see him before she died. Tatsumi wasn't sure which was going to hurt more; living in painful limbo like this, or the moment of death in disappointment. Probably the latter. At least living like this she had hope.
Suddenly Suzanne started coughing again, loud harsh coughs that racked her frail body. Blood stained her hands and the bedspread. Tsuzuki hastily grabbed some tissues, and, drawing the child towards him, tried to hold her. She kept coughing, sometimes so hard Tatsumi thought she would choke out her heart. Tsuzuki threw a desperate look at him.
"Tatsumi! Get a doctor!"
For a moment Tatsumi stood there, fervently hoping that perhaps this was the end already for the girl and that they wouldn't have to do anything, that the life would end naturally.
Tsuzuki's eyes pleaded with him. "Tatsumi!"
Tatsumi felt his resolve wilt. There was an emergency call button on the other side of the bed to Tsuzuki. Tatsumi hit it, putting all of his frustration into the action. Just as he began to hear running footsteps coming in their direction, Suzanne slumped limply in Tsuzuki's arms. The life-support system let out a warning monotone beep.
"Su-chan!" Tsuzuki's eyes were wide – frantically he shook her as forcefully as he dared to such a weak body. "Suzanne!"
Suddenly the door burst open and a doctor rushed in accompanied by two nurses. They rushed to the bed and the room became a chaos of activity as the doctor shouted orders and the nurses carried them out. Invisible to their eyes, Tsuzuki and Tatsumi drew back to the wall, not daring to breathe as they watched.
"Is this all right?" they heard one of the nurses ask. "She's hung on in pain for so long, should we be trying to save her again?"
The doctor was in no condition for a discussion on ethics. "Oxygen mask, now!"
The mask was duly brought and placed over Suzanne's pale face. Tatsumi realised that he was willing the girl to wake up, for her to defy the odds and pull through.
"Come on," whispered Tsuzuki.
Tatsumi, watching his partner's tense face, didn't say anything.
Without warning there was a beep from the life-support system. What had once been a faint flicker of a line on the screen began to peak regularly again. "We have her!" one of the nurses called.
The doctor sagged. Suzanne was breathing calmly now, but the inside of the oxygen mask was flecked with red. "All right. Good work, everyone." He continued to give orders and examine Suzanne. Tatsumi let out a sigh of relief.
"Tsuzuki-san." The younger shinigami glanced at him. He had been staring at his hands. "Let's go. She needs rest. We'll come back later."
Tsuzuki blinked uncomprehending eyes for a moment, then nodded. He wouldn't move, though, and Tatsumi had to put an arm around his shoulders to guide him out. His amethyst eyes, Tatsumi noticed uneasily, were fixed on his hands, stained with Suzanne's blood.
Tatsumi dreaded to imagine what those eyes were going to be like later on, and dreaded even more finding out how he himself would deal with them – if he could deal with them at all.
Chapter Three Chapter Five