Important notes:
This fic takes very liberal interpretations of the Kamakura storyline, which I am obviously very obsessed with. I am also trying on how Tsuzuki and Hisoka's relationship will turn out, what will be different and what will stay the same, in case things turned out differently. If you watched the anime, things might be a bit confusing but it's kind of easy to follow, I think. If you read the manga, you're better off, although be warned that I took a lot of chunk from the original story and added my own.

This fic will be rated PG-13 for now, but at the fourth chapter will be raised to R. There will be yaoi. Needless to say, up to chapter 5 is already written, but there's a very big possibility that the chapters will be rewritten in the middle of the story, or there will be a very big change while in the middle, especially with the timeline. The second chapter will only be released when chapter 6 is already written and so on.

Summary: (alternate universe) Shinigami Tsuzuki Asato is sent to investigate the Kurosaki family and finds himself fascinatedly drawn to the young head of the house despite trying to maintain a distance. Takes place around the time Tsuzuki and Hisoka originally met for the first time.
==========================================

Thy Father's Sins

Prologue.

"When you are older…"

He turned to look at the speaker, blinking owlishly against the sudden light from the candle that reflected in his eyes. "Father?" he uttered instead, raising an arm against the glow.

His father had not turned to him; instead, he continued to stare at the grave markers before them, his brows drawn together as if deeply disturbed but wishing not to show it. "When you are older," he said as if he had not stopped, "you must stop wishing."

Immediately, he felt foolish that his father had known, probably had heard him speaking to himself in that small and darkened room. "Why must I?" he asked.

"They say it is because it will come true," his father told him.

"If they do," he said, spreading his arms, "I wish I may fly!"

"Those who spoke what I said are wrong," his father told him harshly.

His arms faltered and almost fell to his sides; however, they reached out and caught his father's wrist: a pair of too small fingers barely wrapping themselves around the wrist that was infinitely too big. He envied these hands that always symbolized strength and never seemed to falter. "Father."

"Do not wish because they never come true." His father looked down at him. "You must stop hoping for miracles."

"I would think it's hard to stop wishing…since I wish for many things." His grip on his father's wrist tightened.

His father gave him one of his rare smiles. "Do not worry. I will kill your hope for you."

====

He used his hands when he dug into the soil, ignoring the rain. He was glad of it, glad because it hid his tears even though no one could see him, glad because the soil was not as rough as it usually was when it didn't rain. Most of all, the force from the drops were helping the soil erode by itself, making his job easier. He liked the rain. He wept harder when he thought this.

His hands were all scratched and bloody but he did not mind, he was used to pain. This was a different pain, though. Eyes seemed to watch him even though he knew he was alone. Louder than the pattering of raindrops, than the rushing wind, he could hear a whisper in his head…louder, louder, until it was the only thing he could hear.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" he screamed clawing at the ground, mercilessly attacking the ground, nails feeling pebbles, stones, all turning soft in his hands until, in his horror, he realized he was not digging on soil but on human flesh.

"Father," he croaked out. "Father, I—"

"Ah," the voice in his head crooned, "but what right have you now to call for him?"

He wept harder, huddling next to the cold slab of grave marker, and tried not to answer the question the voice asked.

-end prologue-