Boys Don't Cry
by Leareth

Chapter Five

Early evening, and the streetlights were being lit. Tatsumi and Tsuzuki walked slowly through the streets of Kyoto searching for a place to have dinner. Normally the search would be loud and argumentative as Tsuzuki tried to go into the nearest place that smelled good and Tatsumi tried to drag him away to somewhere as cheap as possible, but tonight they walked in near-complete silence. Tatsumi wasn't really hungry, but he knew Tsuzuki was even though his partner wasn't saying anything. After a little searching he found a small noodle house in Gion which had the added incentive of low prices to the smell of its food, and promptly decided on it for dinner.

Tsuzuki made no comment as they sat down. He also let Tatsumi order for him. Usually when they went out to eat (not often seeing that Tsuzuki never had enough funds and Tatsumi didn't like wasting money when he could cook himself) Tsuzuki would fidget restlessly looking at what the other customers were eating then spend ages poring over the menu deciding what he wanted. Such behaviour typically rubbed Tatsumi's patience the wrong way, but tonight he suddenly found himself wanting to be irritated. Anything so that he wouldn't have to look at the too-quiet bowed head sitting opposite him.

Tea arrived. Tatsumi poured out two cups and pushed one to the other side of the table. Tsuzuki took it silently and raised it to his lips. It was too hot, and he quickly put it down making a face and fanning his tongue. "Be careful," Tatsumi chided. "You might spill it."

Tsuzuki didn't reply and, putting the tea aside to cool, went back to staring at the tabletop. Tatsumi cleared his throat. "You don't have to stay for this tonight. It's all right if you go back first. I can do it myself."

No response. Tatsumi tried again. "Tsuzuki-san, it's not going to be pleasant. It'll be best for you if you stay away. I won't be angry with you."

Tsuzuki didn't move. "How can you be so calm about this?" he asked quietly.

Tatsumi inwardly groaned. This confrontation had been inevitable, but still, he couldn't help but hope that perhaps it could have been avoided. "What do you expect me to do?" he countered. "Argue? Send a letter of protest to the Earl? Cry?"

"I don't know!" Tsuzuki finally looked at him, obviously distressed. "Just, just … I don't understand how you can't feel upset about this."

"And what would be the point of that? What would that achieve? Tell me what practical application getting upset would have and perhaps I will do so." Tatsumi waited a moment; as expected, his partner was unable to come up with a reply. "There would be no use in getting upset, Tsuzuki-san," said Tatsumi quietly. "Therefore, I will not feel that way."

"But still!" Tsuzuki protested, nearly knocking over his tea-cup as he did so. "Just because there's no worth in feeling upset doesn't mean that you should feel nothing—"

"This is work, Tsuzuki-san," Tatsumi cut him off coldly. The anger he had tried carefully to hold back was beginning to break free. Why did Tsuzuki always have to make him so angry? "You know what we are, what we do. This case is not the first of its kind, nor will it be the last. You cannot afford to let your emotions get caught up in it!"

Tsuzuki folded his arms and met his gaze. "And if I cut myself off from that, then what? What happens when I care so little that I begin to care about nothing at all?"

"If you cared about nothing at all then maybe you'd be able to do your work properly!" snapped Tatsumi. Tsuzuki flinched; Tatsumi saw it and restrained himself. Their heated exchange was starting to draw attention, he realised belatedly. He drew a deep breath, composing himself as the waitress arrived with their orders. "Enough," said Tatsumi quietly. "Eat up. We'll find a hotel after this; you're staying there while I finish off tonight." He glanced up, blue eyes hard as Tsuzuki opened his mouth to protest. "And that is final."

Tsuzuki slumped in his chair, jaw set. The argument was over. Tatsumi picked up his chopsticks and after murmuring the before-meal words, began to eat. Across the table, Tsuzuki slowly followed suit. The younger man kept his eyes on the table, never once looking up. For some reason that irritated Tatsumi. He didn't know why.

They ate in silence. As with before, although Tatsumi preferred quiet over being irritated by Tsuzuki's behaviour, Tatsumi found the silence stifling. It seemed to make every other noise unnaturally loud; the tap of chopsticks on bowls, the murmurs of conversation from other tables, even the odd sounds from the kitchen at the back. He concentrated on those, concentrated on sorting them out and identifying their sources, trying not to think about what might possibly be going on in the mind of his partner. He already had a good idea of what they might be – and it only served to make him more angered.

Why did Tsuzuki make him so angry? It was a question Tatsumi had asked himself innumerable times throughout his month in partnership with Tsuzuki, and he hadn't found an answer yet. It wasn't just Tsuzuki's attitude or irresponsibleness, though those characteristics in themselves were enough to set off his temper. No, Tatsumi realised as they finished their meal and he asked for the bill, it was more than that, something more complicated. The kind of anger Tsuzuki created in him wasn't usual. Usual anger for Tatsumi resulted in him shouting at the unfortunate person whom he was angry at with biting eloquence and sometimes would simmer for a short time after the person had fled, but it always the anger eventually dissipated. Anger, after all, was a cloud in the mind, and a clouded mind couldn't work efficiently. Shouting and losing his temper once in a while was a healthy way to release anger so that work could be done properly.

But the anger Tsuzuki caused in him was not like that. That anger did not dissipate in time. That anger lingered and festered, sometimes calming down enough to be forgotten for a little while only to rear its head again given the right provocation – and the fact that Tatsumi could not control it only made him even more angry. He was, after all, used to being in complete control of himself at all times ...

Tatsumi's eyes narrowed as they got up to leave. So that was it.

"Excuse me, sir," said the waitress pointedly. "You're two hundred yen short."

"Eh?" Halfway to the exit already, Tatsumi turned back. Tsuzuki was already at the door. The waitress held out her hand with the money she had been given and raised an eyebrow at him. Tatsumi returned the look. "Pardon me, young lady, but I know what I gave you."

"And I know how to count. You're short."

There was a sound from the stairs below. Tsuzuki had left already. Muttering irritably under his breath Tatsumi took back the money he had given the waitress and recounted. Sure enough, it was short.

Tatsumi never miscounted money.

The waitress smiled sweetly. Swearing under his breath, Tatsumi shoved the extra coins into her hand and ran off after Tsuzuki, the one and only person who could make Tatsumi angry at himself.

 

* * *

 

Hospitals didn't truly sleep, at least, not peacefully. There were always coughs and soft cries echoing at random intervals through the corridors, and at more regular intervals the footsteps of a lone nurse doing an inspection round. More than that, however, was the uneasy atmosphere that some people who had gone to sleep might not wake up. It wasn't evenly distributed, this atmosphere, in fact in some wards it didn't even exist, but where it did one could almost taste it in the air like cold raw meat. Nowhere was this more apparent than in Palliative Care.

Tatsumi walked silently along the corridors that had been full of people just earlier that day. He had left Tsuzuki in the hotel room he had booked out for the night (two-star, one room only, after all hotel rooms came with two single beds apiece so why waste extra money?) with strict instructions not to go anywhere or order room-service. Tsuzuki hadn't protested against such orders, in fact he hadn't even responded to them. He had simply sat down on the bed closest to the window and stared at his hands. Tatsumi had fallen silent then, disturbed at seeing his partner like that, a realisation which on top of the one arrived to earlier made him extremely uneasy. As soon as he was able to Tatsumi had left and rather than teleporting or flying to the hospital had walked, using the exercise and time to settle himself. It worked to an extent – but for a man like Tatsumi, an extent was not enough.

Far from enough, in fact.

It was hard to see in this dimly lit corridor. Tatsumi slowed a little – the room had been on his right, hadn't it? He counted the doors, focusing on the numerals with far more concentration than really was needed, trying not to think about—

 

"How can you be so calm about this?"

 

Calm? No, Tatsumi was far from calm at the moment, and he wasn't happy about it. Why did Tsuzuki have to ask so many questions? This was work, a job, and by Emna Tatsumi would do it properly. What did it matter that the life of a girl-child was involved – and what did it matter what Tatsumi thought about it all? Why did Tsuzuki have to make him out like some cold unfeeling monster? It wasn't that he didn't think anything about the matter, on the contrary, he found it distasteful and far from pleasant—

And why did he even have to justify himself?!

Tatsumi snarled a little. Damn Tsuzuki. Damn the man for doing this. Damn himself for that matter for letting Tsuzuki get to him—

A figure stepped out of the shadows ahead. Tatsumi stopped as he realised who it was.

Tsuzuki smiled weakly. "Hey, Tatsumi."

It took just a split second for Tatsumi to get over his startlement. "What are you doing here, Tsuzuki-san?" he demanded.

The younger man winced. He seemed to have come after Tatsumi in a hurry, for he wasn't wearing his suit-jacket. "Waiting for you."

"You're supposed to be waiting for me at the hotel. Get back there this instant."

Tsuzuki shook his head. "I don't want to wait by myself," he said miserably. "I – I prefer to see. I thought about what you said, about this being our work and all and how if I'm a shinigami I have to do these things ..." He trailed off, amethyst eyes almost black in the darkness. "I don't want you to think badly of me."

Tatsumi sighed, trying to keep his temper in check. "Tsuzuki-san, I didn't want to put you through this—"

"I know. But …" Tsuzuki stood his ground determinedly. "I chose this. I chose to become a shinigami. I've been trying to avoid those things that come with the decision that I don't like, but I can't do that forever, can I. And if I have to force myself to see something as bad – distasteful as this through …" The younger man swallowed. "I prefer it to be with someone like you who I know will take care of me."

Tatsumi stared. His first impulse was to give Tsuzuki a good telling off right there and then in the middle of the night in the Palliative Care ward and order him to get back to the hotel room. From Tsuzuki's posture the younger shinigami expected him to do just that. Also from his posture, a small, seemingly fragile looking shape gazing pleading at him, Tatsumi remembered something.

No, not something. Someone.

A fall of heavy, rich cloth ...

The memory disappeared as soon as Tatsumi reached for it.

"Fine then," he said shortly, hoping his words hid the uneasiness he was feeling. "On your own head be it."

There was a relieved smile from Tsuzuki. Before Tatsumi could start to have second thoughts, his partner opened the door he had been leaning against. It could have been a trick of the lighting, but as Tatsumi entered he could see that the knuckles of Tsuzuki's hand as he held the door handle were white.

The door closed. Tatsumi steeled himself, wanting to get the unpleasant task over and done with. Behind him Tsuzuki stood awkwardly, as if he had to wade through mud in order to take any step further into the room, The steady beeping of life-support systems seemed extraordinarily loud – that, and the laboured breathing from the room's only occupant.

As softly as possible, Tatsumi drew the curtains, letting the moon light up the room before turning towards the hospital bed and the patient sleeping there. Skeletal arms wrapped themselves tightly around the worn teddy bear with the yellow ribbon. Despite her condition, Suzanne was still a child and all children at such a late hour were fast asleep.

"Keep quiet," whispered Tatsumi, trying to figure out the best – and most painless – way of doing this. "We don't want to wake her."

Tsuzuki mechanically nodded. In what little light there was Tatsumi caught a glimpse of his partner's expression. Faced once again with the reality of the person and what they had to do, the determination Tsuzuki had shown in the corridor just moments ago was already struggling. Tatsumi's lips tightened. It wasn't too late to tell Tsuzuki to go back and wait—

There was a bout of violent coughing from the bed. The two shinigami froze where they stood. The coughing got worse.

"Su-chan," whispered Tsuzuki.

With almost detached dread Tatsumi watched as the thin silhouette on the bed slowly sat up. Suzanne's small body shook with the coughing, the hand she put over her mouth doing nothing to muffle the sound. With her other hand she blindly reached out to the bedside table, fumbling for something there—

Before Tatsumi could stop him, Tsuzuki pressed a few tissues into the girl's hand. As her fingers touched his, Suzanne glanced up in shock. Even in the darkness Tatsumi could see how large her eyes were.

Tsuzuki smiled a little sadly at her. "Hello."

If Tatsumi could have gone back in time just two minutes to change the moment when he had let Tsuzuki come with him he would have.

Suzanne blinked incomprehensibly at Tsuzuki for a moment before returning the smile. "Hello." There was a moment of silence, then she started coughing again. Tsuzuki gently took the tissues to wipe the flecks of blood from around Suzanne's mouth, taking care not to disturb the various feeds into her body. "What are you doing here so late?" she asked when he was done.

Tsuzuki's mouth tightened a little. Although Tatsumi would have liked nothing better than to get Tsuzuki as far away from the girl as possible he remained silent, wondering if after such a speech in the corridor outside Tsuzuki would actually follow through. Maybe, just maybe ...

Suzanne looked at him with all the trust a child of nine could have. Tsuzuki faltered. "… We've come to visit you again," he said lamely.

Tatsumi closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to kennel his irritation and disappointment. Tsuzuki just couldn't do it. Tatsumi shouldn't have expected otherwise, in fact he should have put his foot down and insisted that Tsuzuki leave. He hadn't done that, and why? Because Tsuzuki had asked him to let him come. Once again, Tatsumi had given in to the wishes of his partner.

"Visit?" Suzanne frowned a little in confusion, holding Paul the teddy a little closer. "But it's night-time. Visiting hours are between ten in the morning and seven in the evening. Why are you visiting now?"

"I—"

"We're not here to visit, Miss Aso, " Tatsumi said, cutting off Tsuzuki. "We're here to fetch you."

Those blue eyes turned to him. "Fetch? What do you mean?"

Why did they have to kill her? Why couldn't the girl just let herself die and save them all this trouble? She had been hovering on the brink of death for days already, surely she couldn't hold on for much longer. Then again, one had to admire her for doing so ... "We're shinigami, Miss Aso," said Tatsumi quietly, carefully avoiding Tsuzuki's eyes. "You were supposed to die three days ago. We've come to collect you."

"Tatsumi—"

"Shinigami? What?" Twisting a little, Suzanne looked at Tsuzuki, confused and disbelieving. "But ... you're too nice to be death gods."

Tsuzuki had the most painful look on his face that Tatsumi had ever seen. "Su-chan—" he began.

"You can't be a shinigami." The girl looked from Tatsumi to Tsuzuki and back. She faltered when she saw that their expressions had not changed. "... Are you?"

She was looking at Tsuzuki. Ever so slightly, Tatsumi's partner nodded. He looked as if he were assenting to his own punishment. Horrified, Suzanne pulled away from Tsuzuki, hiding behind her teddy as if the toy would protect her. "No. You can't take me away. I can't die yet. I have to see my Papa—" She started coughing again, more violently. She clamped her hands over her mouth to stop the blood from flying, but it couldn't stop the coughing. Blood trickled down her wrist.

"Su-chan." Desperation painted Tsuzuki's face as he tried to hold her, desperation which turned to raw hurt as the girl pushed him away with bloodstained hands and crying, "Don't come any closer!"

She lashed out with the teddy bear. Instinctively Tsuzuki caught it by the head. Suzanne jerked her toy back and the stitching on the worn-out teddy gave way. Tsuzuki blinked at the head of the teddy that had somehow attached to his hand, the greyish stuffing spilling out onto the bed. Suzanne stared in horror. "You, you ..."

Tsuzuki tried to apologise and held out the head of the bear to her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

Suzanne shrank back in terror. "Get away from me!"

They were making so much noise; it wouldn't be long before someone heard and alerted the nurses. Angrily Tatsumi gestured; the ample shadows in the room spread out, covering the walls in an inky blackness that absorbed all sound leaving only the window free for light and knocking the crayon pictures stuck there to the ground. Tsuzuki was still trying desperately to help the violently coughing Suzanne. "Su-chan, please, listen! You're sick, you won't recover, you can't keep holding on like this—"

Suzanne drew away as far as possible, the two parts of her teddy falling to the floor as she glared at Tsuzuki with an energy that didn't quite hide her fright. "Go away! I know I'm sick, I know I won't get better but I shan't die yet! Not until I've seen my Papa!"

"Su-chan—"

"Your father isn't going to come, Miss Aso," Tatsumi cut off Tsuzuki. He stepped closer to the bed. Suzanne turned to him wildly, the anger in her eyes rapidly being taken over by the fear. Unlike Tsuzuki, the shadow-master had never tried to befriend her. "We know all about you. Your father was a sailor on one of the American warships that were stationed in this country after the war. He met your mother and stayed with her for a while, but before she told him that she was carrying you, he returned to his own country. He left no means of contact, and your mother never heard from him again. It is logical to assume that he is unaware of the fact that he has a daughter."

Suzanne stared at him, those blue eyes of hers wide and terrified. "Wh-what?"

Tatsumi met her gaze squarely. "Your father isn't going to come, Miss Aso. He doesn't even know you exist, let alone dying—"

He broke off as he was suddenly wrenched around by his arm. Tsuzuki glared at him absolutely furious. "What are you doing?!" he hissed. "How can you be so cruel as to say all of that to her when she's like this?!"

Tatsumi returned the glare with the coldest look he could summon. "It's nothing but the truth, Tsuzuki-san. She has to let go of her delusions."

"Her dreams and hopes, you mean! How can you take that away from her!"

Tatsumi reached up and firmly removed Tsuzuki's hand from his sleeve. Off-side, Suzanne stared at the bed in front of her in numb shock. "I said, that she has to let go. The reason that she is still alive is because she refuses to accept reality. Do you want her to keep hanging on in pain in hope for something that will never happen?"

"At least she was happy! At least she had something to dream of!"

"She's dying, Tsuzuki-san!" Tatsumi half-shouted. The anger he tried so carefully to control had broken free, and he wasn't going to rein it in. "She's wasting herself away, in fact she should have died days ago already. We came here for the purpose of freeing her from that pain. You followed me here tonight in order to complete that purpose, but obviously you are unable to do so. Because of you I have had no choice but to step in. If you didn't want her to know the truth then you should have just killed her!"

Tsuzuki went white. Before he could say anything, however, another sound interrupted them. The two shinigami turned back towards the hospital bed.

"P-Papa ..." Suzanne choked, rubbing her eyes. "Papa isn't ... Papa isn't going to come visit me? Not ever?"

Tsuzuki tore his eyes away from Tatsumi's and immediately went to enfold the girl in an embrace. The girl didn't respond to him, covering her face with bloodstained hands as she began to cry. Tsuzuki tried to comfort her. "That's not true, Su-chan, we don't know ... I mean, we've never gone to America, for all we know your father might be travelling here as we speak—"

"Papa isn't coming." Suzanne began to cry harder. "Papa never wrote to me. Papa never called or wrote to Mama—" She coughed harshly, the blood-flecks staining Tsuzuki's shirt. "Mama used to go for walks along the river and stare out over the mountains and cry and she'd never tell me why but she always told me that I was a pretty girl and that my Papa would definitely come back and see what a pretty daughter he had—" Another cough, more violent than before, and more blood, "—she told me when I got sick that she'd go and find my Papa and tell him to come see me but she hasn't come back yet … she doesn't know where to find Papa and Papa doesn't know about me, he doesn't care ..."

The words ran out. Suzanne turned her face into Tsuzuki's shirt and sobbed, her whole frail body racking with the emotion. Tatsumi shuddered, feeling a wave of pity and sorrow for the child – and also relief. Having had her illusions shattered, Suzanne would have no more reason to cling to life, and neither he nor Tsuzuki would have to actually kill tonight.

Still ... that didn't make it any easier to watch the end.

Time stretched out to the point it was agonising. On the bed, Tsuzuki held the girl tightly. His amethyst eyes were very bright, and he bit his lip as the death's head of a face clutched at him and wept. The weeping was more and more frequently disrupted by choked coughs. Suzanne began to breathe heavily. Tatsumi watched as Tsuzuki shut his eyes. The young man's face was pained, and seeing it, Tatsumi clenched his fist. He glared at the little girl who was torturing his partner so.

Just die and get it over with!

The crying began to lessen, as if the child was falling asleep. There was a slight sound, like a soft sigh.

Then ... silence.

Tatsumi let out a breath he didn't even know he had been holding.

For a long time the room was quiet. The smell of blood hovered thickly in the air. Finally, there was a sound from the bed again. Tatsumi glanced up to see Tsuzuki gently laying the dead girl back onto the pillows. Suzanne's pretty blue eyes were closed. Tsuzuki folded her hands across her chest and drew the covers up before stepping away. He looked a mess. His tie had come undone, and his shirt had been pulled out from its neat folds. Bloodstains stood out starkly against his skin and streaked his hands. He stood very still. Silent alarm bells began to go off in the back of Tatsumi's mind. "... Tsuzuki-san?"

Tsuzuki didn't respond. Instead, he knelt down and began to collect the crayon pictures that Tatsumi's shadows had dislodged from the walls. Then he went to the small cupboard in the corner, walking as if in a drug-haze. He opened it; a box of crayons fell out as he knelt down to remove a stack of loose papers from the bottom shelf and added that to the pile. With the papers in his arms, he stood up and turned to Tatsumi. There was blood on his face as well.

"We should send these to her father."

Tatsumi couldn't speak. Tsuzuki began to walk towards him carrying that collection of crayon pictures. The young man stepped on something; startled, he looked down.

Suzanne's dismembered teddy bear stared almost accusingly up at him.

The papers fluttered to the floor. Tsuzuki slumped heavily against the wall, covering his face with his hands. He was shaking violently; before Tatsumi could do anything his legs gave out and he slid down to the floor. He reached out for the head of the teddy bear and cradled it in his lap as stared brokenly at the shadowed bed where the girl who had died crying in his arms lay.

Staring ... with eyes of shattered amethysts.

Something was wrong, very wrong. Tatsumi looked down at his hands. They were trembling. Immediately he gripped the window-sill, so tightly that the skin on his knuckles went white. He should do something, for goodness sake he should do something to help Tsuzuki. The expression on his younger partner's face was frightening him; it was almost that of an abused child. Tsuzuki was completely silent, but mentally … Tatsumi choked as his limited reikan ability was buffeted by a silent crying and could not bring himself to move even though he knew, could feel Tsuzuki pleading for ... for ...

Don't look at me like that!

A key was put in the door's lock. Wildly Tatsumi looked up – he could sense someone outside, a nurse doing the inspection round and taking time to check on the youngest darling of the ward. Tatsumi didn't want Tsuzuki to hear her scream. With inhuman strength of will he regained control of himself and forced himself to go over to Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki didn't move.

"Tsuzuki-san." The key jiggled as if the lock was stuck. "Tsuzuki-san. We must go."

The younger shinigami made no sound, simply staring blankly ahead. Tatsumi could hear the nurse murmuring on the other side of the door – she was not alone, and the jammed door had alerted them already to the fact that something was not right. "Get up, Tsuzuki-san!"

Still no response. Someone started twisting the door knob trying to open it. With an exasperated curse Tatsumi reached down to grasp Tsuzuki by the arm. He viciously yanked the younger man to his feet – Tsuzuki stumbled, nearly falling into Tatsumi and moving as if he were made of wood. Angrily the shadow-master wrapped an arm around his partner's waist and summoned the shadows to enclose them. Between one heartbeat and the next, they disappeared into the darkness.

The nurses were surprised when the lock that so stubbornly resisted them suddenly relented. It was immediately forgotten when they discovered Suzanne's gaunt body. The alarm was instantly raised, but even as they did so they knew it was too late. As the doctors arrived one of the nurses covered Suzanne's face with a white cloth. The other retrieved the scattered drawings. She would choke back tears as she looked at the pictures; a house under a yellow sun, a cheery face with a nurse's hat, flowers … some of them were scribbled out, and some were speckled with dark stains as if the artist had been ill while drawing. One picture, a smiling man with blue eyes and yellow hair holding a girl with eyes like his, had been drawn especially carefully. It was ruined by a dark red smear.

Those pictures were carefully put away for someone to collect. But they would never leave the hospital.

 

* * *

 

"Tsuzuki-san?"

No response. Tatsumi turned off the bathroom lights. On the far bed Tsuzuki sat staring out the window dressed in one of the white hotel bathrobes. It had taken Tatsumi the better part of an hour to clean the blood out of Tsuzuki's clothes, which were now hanging up to dry in the shower stall. Hopefully they would be dry by morning. That was only a few hours away, but since it was now almost three a.m. and the two of them were only just about to go to bed, Tatsumi was willing to sleep late for once. After such an ordeal, they would need the rest. He wasn't sure who needed it more.

Almost reluctantly Tatsumi went back to looking at his partner. Tsuzuki's dark hair licked the nape of his neck, still a little wet. One hand lay limply beside him on the bed. He looked very small and vulnerable. His back was to Tatsumi. The shadow-master didn't want to imagine what expression was on Tsuzuki's face at the moment.

"Tsuzuki-san." He approached the other's bed. "It's late. You should get some rest."

Silence. After a moment or two Tsuzuki gave a little sigh and obediently crawled under the covers, the same way he had obeyed Tatsumi's earlier orders to take a shower. He curled up in a foetus-position on the edge of the bed nearest to the window, which also happened to be as far from Tatsumi as possible. Tatsumi's lips tightened. It was a depressingly familiar situation, this silent tension. In the aftermath of emotionally straining cases Tsuzuki would shrink into himself like a turtle pulling into its shell, hardly speaking and only acting when ordered to do so.

Before tonight Tatsumi had always thought that when Tsuzuki behaved like that he did not want to be disturbed by company. On that reasoning Tatsumi had always left Tsuzuki well alone at such times. Tonight, however ... Tatsumi shuddered. He remembered the silent crying that had filled the hospital room after Suzanne had finally died. He wondered – had leaving Tsuzuki alone all those times before been the right thing to do?

For that matter, was it really what Tsuzuki wanted?

Hesitantly, Tatsumi leaned towards the too-still shadow in the other bed. Never before in his whole life had he felt more awkward. "Tsuzuki-san?"

There was a pause, then a slight rustle of sheets. "Yes?"

Tatsumi swallowed. His throat suddenly felt very dry. "I ... I ah, I mean, you ..." He took a deep breath. "Ah ... if you ever want to talk about what happened—"

"Oh. That's all right. I won't bother you."

Tatsumi blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

He could almost hear the small, sad smile in the other's voice. "I'm okay, Tatsumi. Really. I'll get over it. Besides ... I don't want to be a burden to you."

Tatsumi couldn't answer. After a little while the breathing from the other bed deepened, evening out into the regular rhythms of sleep. Tatsumi listened to it for a little while, then put away his glasses and got into his own bed. He couldn't but help but feel a great sense of relief. Tsuzuki had actually said out loud not to bother, so it was therefore all right to leave him alone because he would be all right by himself ...

—amethyst eyes, blank and pleading, begging for some kind of comfort, for punishment—

... which was a complete lie, wasn't it?

Tatsumi told himself it didn't matter. Tsuzuki had said that it was all right not to bother, therefore he wouldn't. Tsuzuki obviously did not want to be disturbed, and he would respect that. Anyway, Tsuzuki was such a feather-head; come morning he would have recovered and be back to wasting his money on cookies—

A muffled sob interrupted his self-justification. Tatsumi froze as he realised what it was.

Tsuzuki was crying.

For a long time Tatsumi lay in the darkness like a helpless child as he listened to his partner's grief. His heart pounded painfully – too painfully. Tatsumi bit his lip, nearly drawing blood, wondering if he should do something. Anything to stop the sound of tears falling.

Just like that time ...

 

... crying in the darkness, the noise echoing through dark rooms with the tinkle of bells … he buried his head under the pillow in a vain attempt to block it out—

 

The crying grew a little louder. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut Tatsumi pulled the bed-covers over his head and guilt and pretended he was asleep.

 

* * *

 

Of all cases to send him on ... Konoe sighed as he put the report down. Even though it was written with a clinical detachment only Tatsumi was capable of, the facts themselves were enough to make the Chief shake his head. What those two must have gone through ... he glanced up at the silent figure in the chair opposite. Tatsumi sat with his hands clasped staring out the window. The sunlight glinted off his glasses, making his eyes impossible to read. There was a slice of cake in front of him – since Konoe had called Tatsumi in out of the middle of coffee break it was only polite to offer something, but Tatsumi hadn't even touched it. "So, uh ..." Konoe tried to find some innocuous conversation topic. "How come you came back late from the mortal realm?"

Tatsumi didn't move. "We completed our assignment very late at night. I judged it was better to rest before returning here."

"I see. Um, where did you stay?"

"A small hotel. You'll have an accounting of the expenses charged to the department by the end of the day."

"That's good." No reply. Konoe took a deep breath; all this beating around the bush was pointless. "So how is Tsuzuki faring?"

Was it his imagination, or did Tatsumi seem to stiffen for a moment? "That person is currently stuffing his face in the common room," the shinigami said neutrally. "Usual practice for this time of day, and he's being a silly idiot as always."

"But?" Konoe pressed a little. He had kept a careful eye on this partnership ever since he had forced it upon the two participants a month ago, and while he wouldn't pretend to know all the dynamics, he had seen enough to know when something was wrong.

Tatsumi didn't immediately reply. Instead, he rose out of the chair and went to the window. It looked as if he was studying the sakura trees outside, but Konoe had the distinct feeling that that the shinigami wasn't even seeing them. "I don't know what to do with him, Kacho," he murmured. "I know something is wrong, and yet if he wishes to pretend that everything is all right who am I to force him to be otherwise? Why would he do that in the first place?"

Konoe blinked. There was something startling about Tatsumi's behaviour. "Am I to answer these questions?"

Tatsumi turned to look at him. "Are there answers?"

"Well, yes. Or at least, possible ones. I'm not Tsuzuki, but I do see a lot from this office of mine and I can give you a good guess."

Tatsumi's eyes narrowed, as if he wasn't sure if he liked the implications of what he was hearing. "And what would that be?"

Konoe met the other's gaze. "It's you. Tsuzuki is afraid of what you will think of him. You're the third partner Tsuzuki has been paired with in almost as many months. Other shinigami have that many partners over several years. How do you think you would feel if right from the start you can't seem to find anyone to match you? Tsuzuki desperately wants this time to work out, and therefore he tries his best to please you." Konoe hesitated, just a little. "The problem is, you're a very demanding person."

Those blue eyes hardened. "Explain."

Konoe gulped, but it was too late to back out now. "You intimidate, Tatsumi. You're highly efficient, powerful and intelligent, which is great for our work but it also scares people – and I'm not just talking about the other shinigami, half of the higher-ups are also nervous when you're around. Tsuzuki on the other hand, can't help but make mistakes and ask silly questions, but he knows you can't stand that sort of thing so he tries his best not to bother you or be a burden. He's pretending that everything is all right because he doesn't want you to worry about him."

Silence. Tatsumi's face was unreadable. Konoe held his breath. He liked to think that as Tatsumi's superior he had some standing in the imposing shinigami's thinking to tell him things that no one else dared, but until now he hadn't tried to find out whether he was correct or simply delusional … still those glasses gazed implacably at him, and a bead of sweat worked down Konoe's back. Konoe had been sitting at this desk the day Tatsumi first started out as a shinigami, and it hadn't taken him long to realise if Tatsumi really wanted to do so, he could easily rise above them all and take charge of the whole department. Actually, he was surprised Tatsumi hadn't done it already. Why hadn't he?

Suddenly, the shinigami bowed.

"Thank you, Kacho. You have given me much to think about."

Konoe blinked. Before he could reply Tatsumi executed a perfect parade ground turn and headed for the door—

"YOU LITTLE INGRATE GET BACK HERE!"

—which burst open as four figures rushed inside. Tatsumi only just managed to jump back in time to avoid being hit in the face. Konoe blinked as Tsuzuki dashed in to hide behind Tatsumi. The young shinigami was being chased by the two Gushoushin and the telekinetic shinigami Ito, all tree of whom had the most furious expressions on their faces. Seeing Tatsumi, however, all three stopped short.

Tatsumi recovered quickly and glared down at all of them. "Just what is going on here?"

The renowned icy-blue glare only slightly dinted the fury of the three pursuers. Ito pointed at Tsuzuki, who was peeping out from behind Tatsumi's shoulder. "Your clumsy fool of a partner dropped and smashed my coffee mug!"

The Gushoushin twins gnashed their beaks. "And by doing so he spilt coffee all over three library books! They're completely ruined!"

Tsuzuki whimpered. "I said I'm sorry!"

"That's not good enough!" squawked the Elder Gushoushin. "You need to repair the books!"

"You just said that they're ruined!"

"You owe me a new mug!" Ito ranted.

"I don't have any money!"

"I don't care! Go buy one and work off the debt!"

Tatsumi, Konoe noted with some amusement, had put a hand to his head as if counting to ten for patience. The shouting grew more chaotic as Ito and the chicken-like shikigami demanded revenge or compensation or a combination of both – Tsuzuki cringed further behind Tatsumi as Ito physically stepped forward to try and rage in his face.

"How can you be so damned clumsy?!"

"New books! Pay for the sacrilege you have done to our books!"

"I said I'm sorry—"

"SHUT UP!"

Immediately the office fell silent. Tatsumi's eyes glittered behind his glasses. "Whatever happened, how it happened or when, I don't care. It is no excuse to come running into the Chief's office shouting as if the sky is falling down."

"He started it!" yelled Ito and the two Gushoushin, jabbing fingers and feathers in the miscreant's direction.

"SILENCE!" The bellow was enough to rattle the fork beside the slice of cake still sitting untouched on Konoe's desk. Terrified, the three plaintiffs backed away. "I have no doubt that my partner is guilty of everything you are accusing him of," continued Tatsumi in that absolutely cold voice of his that no one dared argue with, "and rest assured, I shall personally see that he is punished for it." There was a small squeak from behind his shoulder. "For now, however, I see from the clock that coffee break is over and all of you had better get back to work!"

The Gushoushin and Ito weren't so easily put off. "We demand compensation!"

Tatsumi turned to the middle-aged shinigami. There was a very unpleasant smile on his face. "I'm sure you do, Ito-san. But before we address that issue, perhaps you could assist me in answering a small puzzle. Over the past few weeks various pieces of office equipment have gone missing – pens, paper, stamps, magazines and so on. Since all these disappearances have occurred in and around your area of the work-floor, could you offer any information as to the identity of the culprit?"

Ito paled. Tatsumi's evil smile didn't waver. Ito began to sweat. Hurriedly he stepped towards the door. "I ah ... well, what do you know, you're right, Tatsumi, coffee-break is over and there's a pile of work for me to do, ah ... I'll tell you if I hear anything about that office-thief, haha – bye!"

Ito fled the office. Having gotten rid of one Tatsumi turned his attention to the others. The Gushoushin's feathers began to shake.

"You know, it's been a while since I've cooked chicken-soup ..."

Konoe stifled a laugh as the two shikigami dived out the door with terrified squawks. "You didn't seriously mean that, did you, Tatsumi?"

Tatsumi shut the door. "I was perfectly serious, Kacho. I haven't had chicken soup for a long time. Any implications the Gushoushin took from that is their business."

Having been rescued, Tsuzuki gave his partner a look of profound relief. "Eh, thank you, Tatsumi—"

"Not so fast." Tsuzuki froze and shut up as Tatsumi loomed over him. "Do you recall what I said last time you caused a racket in the workplace as a result of your clumsiness?" asked the shadow-master very softly, very dangerously. Off-side, Konoe gave a long sigh.

Tsuzuki tried to smile. "Er, what you said? Um ..."

Tatsumi's glasses flashed impatiently. "Do you remember?"

"No …"

Tatsumi, Konoe had come to notice, had a little tic that showed up just before he really blew up. Sure enough, the warning signal made itself known and Tsuzuki cringed as Tatsumi began to give him a telling-off that reduced him to puppy. Konoe rolled his eyes and put his hands over his ears. It didn't help much; Tatsumi could probably be heard on the other side of the building.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I do not work with idiots!"

If you weren't already dead, Tatsumi, I'd say that someday you're going to work yourself into a stroke. Konoe gave a little sigh as a particularly sharp admonishment lashed out. Interestingly, though, Tsuzuki was bearing it all rather well. Konoe had known shinigami who had had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of one of Tatsumi's tirades to break down and cry or run off. Tsuzuki, while he certainly winced and whimpered, did neither. In fact, if he looked past the initial impression of Tsuzuki cringing like a little puppy, there was something almost easy about it all, as if enduring Tatsumi's temper was a simple fact of life. Like doing household chores; something disagreeable that had to be done and put up with, but once over, could be forgotten and the rest of the day enjoyed ...

Tsuzuki caught Konoe's eye as he put up his hands. As he warded off Tatsumi's shouting, he gave the old Chief a weak smile.

Konoe chuckled. Ah, Tatsumi, if only you knew ...

The shadow-master had sharp ears. Unexpectedly he turned and gave the old Chief a challenging look. "Something amusing, Kacho?"

Immediately Konoe tried with limited success to wipe the smile off his face. Off-side, Tsuzuki was peeking out from between his fingers. "Nothing, Tatsumi."

Tatsumi's blue eyes narrowed. Konoe looked innocent. The shadow-master sighed. Then he saw Tsuzuki. The amethyst-eyed shinigami was giving him a mournful, questioning look, as if wondering whether it was safe to come out.

Tatsumi rolled his eyes. Then he reached out, picked up his untouched slice of cake, and passed it to Tsuzuki.

Konoe blinked.

"Wow!" Tsuzuki exclaimed delightedly as he accepted the treat. "Thank you, Tatsumi!"

Tatsumi muttered something under his breath and turned away. It was difficult to tell in the office light, but there was the tiniest quirk playing around his lips.

Konoe stared for a moment. Then he sat back in his chair and smiled.

 

Chapter Four

Chapter Six