I... I can't believe I finally finished this chapter... it's been gathering dust for two years and I finally finished it. sob of relief

Hopefully y'all remember what was going on. (I didn't.) If not, you can start at the beginning! (Like I had to.) But I wouldn't worry because half the pieces don't add up together anyway. (Because I suck.) It'll have Tsusoka hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff, and that's all we really need, right? (I sure hope so.)

The first scene in this chapter had already been posted, but I added material to it, so please re-read it!

Bear with me while I beat FFN to death for killing my formatting. Thank you.

Chapter Thirteen

Hisoka had closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep when Watari came in to check on them; he didn't want the bubbly scientist realizing that he wasn't sleeping. He knew that Watari would be concerned, but Hisoka doubted anything could make him sleep while he was so anxious.

He sat up and let out a little sigh. His mind felt almost disturbingly blank, now that the buzzing voice had been removed from it. He glanced over at Tsuzuki and wondered if he was dreaming again. The demon – if that was what it was – had chosen him over Hisoka. Hisoka had been an afterthought, a mistake.

As usual.

He stared at Tsuzuki's sleeping face and was glad to see that it was calm, even tranquil, in his sleep.

Hisoka strained to remember something from the past two years. Something, anything, even the slightest hint. He was starting to realize that he knew more than Tsuzuki did. It made sense, given that the spell had so much of a stronger hold on Tsuzuki.

It wasn't so much that he remembered things as that he knew them to be so. Like the impression he had of Tsuzuki as someone who was warm, cheerful, caring, kind. Not this traumatized shell of a man with so much pain and fear and guilt. Everything about Tsuzuki was ALL WRONG as far as Hisoka was concerned.

But there were other things, too. He felt that he was better able to anticipate Tatsumi and Watari than Tsuzuki was. More adaptable to the situation.

For the first time since everything had happened, Hisoka took some deep breaths. Deliberately calmed himself. There were other factors. Tsuzuki seemed to know nothing of any powers that he might have learned in his seventy years of being a Shinigami. But Hisoka did. His empathy had been trained, and he could use it properly, whereas in his life he had held no control over it at all.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked softly over to Tsuzuki. The bond the demon used thrived on fear, pain, control. Hisoka could feel it. Could use it?

He put his hand on Tsuzuki's forehead and closed his eyes.

The dream he was having was sweet.

Hisoka was looking at himself.

/ He leaned over the bed, looking at the boy flopped down on it. His garish orange shirt clashed horribly with his blue jeans and light brown hair, which was in his face. "He can be cute when he keeps his mouth shut," Tsuzuki mused.

"A Shinigami at the age of sixteen . . . it's kind of sad, isn't it."

He reached out and smoothed the hair out of the boy's face. "I'm sure he's got his reasons . . ." /

Hisoka lifted his hand from Tsuzuki's forehead and stared down at the other man. That had been a memory, not a dream. Clear, detailed, perfect. Their memories were still intact, were still inside them somewhere. That meant there was a way to recover them somehow.

And if there were more memories like that . . . Hisoka thought he might almost want them back. He looked down at the man in front of him and his heart ached. He reached out and brushed the hair out of Tsuzuki's face, just as Tsuzuki had done to him in the dream.

He tried again.

It took some sorting out – some concentration to avoid being taken back into the dream. It was difficult, because he wanted to be back in the dream – wanted to be back in that warm, comfortable place, where Tsuzuki knew him, cared about him.

He found it easily enough, though. The demon's aura was very distinct, tainted by hatred and strong greed. And an undertone. Fear and desperation, a cloying, suffocating need to get OUT.

Hisoka didn't know what he was sensing, but he wasn't sure it mattered. He could report it to Watari later; surely the scientist would have some way of figuring it out. He followed that link . . . and ran headlong into the barrier between Chijou and the Meifu.

His mind spun wildly out of control.

/ This just doesn't make any sense, how can she say something like that when she -- /

/ Okay, if I try adding the cream after I've mixed everything else, it might – /
/ what a pest, he always needs me to /

"Hisoka? Hisoka!"

firm hands grabbed him by the wrists

/ "I don't want to be alone anymore! Where I belong . . . is by your side! I need you!" /

"Hisoka?"

Hisoka opened his eyes. His chest heaved for breath and the image of the man in front of him swum. He couldn't see clearly – half in, half out of his body, half in everyone else's, his mind awash with the thoughts of half the people in the Meifu, Shinigami and spirits alike.

Desperate only for some grounding, some silence, he acted without thinking. He threw his arms around Tsuzuki's neck and clung to him, shaking.

"It's okay," Tsuzuki said, holding him tightly. Rubbing his back. Old, familiar things that Hisoka couldn't remember ever having happened before. "It's all right. Shhh, it's okay, it's okay."

Hisoka's shivering eased. He relaxed into Tsuzuki's arms.

"What did you see?" Tsuzuki asked quietly.

Hisoka shook his head. "I can't," he whispered, trying to push back those images of black fire, that dull, dead hopelessness he had felt from Tsuzuki, the stark terror he had felt himself. "I can't."

Tsuzuki hesitated. "Hisoka, I – "

The door opened. Watari blinked at them. "I thought you two were sleeping," he said.

"We were," Tsuzuki said. "At least, I was."

Hisoka was blinking at the man slung over Watari's shoulder. "Uhm . . . why is Mibu-san with you?" he asked. "Wasn't he, well, alive four hours ago?"

"Yes," Watari said, letting Oriya down onto one of the beds. "In fact, he still is. He's been cursed, though. I figured that if being in the Meifu halts the spell, we can keep him safe here until we figure out some way to break it. We owe it to him after he saved you, even though Tatsumi didn't like it."

Hisoka nodded a little. Frowned. "May I?" he asked, his hand hovering over Oriya for a moment.

Watari blinked at him. "Sure," he finally said.

Hisoka closed his eyes and rested his hand on Oriya's forehead. The bond with the demon was just as blatant. He frowned, biting his lip.

"What is it?" Watari asked him.

"I could ask you the same thing," Hisoka said, giving Watari one of his best sullen glares. "You know way more about all this than you're letting on. You know what's happening to Tsuzuki and you know what we're up against. Why won't you tell us?"

"Saa . . ." Watari ruefully rubbed his hand over his hair. "You got me, Bon. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to scare either of you."

"It's a little late," Hisoka snapped.

Watari lifted his hands in surrender. "What we're fighting is a demon that has possessed a human," he said. "He's extended the human's life, forcing demonic immortality on it, using that to hide from the rest of the Makai. Getting the human exorcised isn't a problem – there's more than one Shinigami that can do that spell, the two of you included. It's what to do afterwards that's the problem."

Hisoka nodded, thinking this over. That explained the desperation, the feeling of being trapped – he had been sensing the human's emotions.

"What do you mean?" Tsuzuki asked.

"I mean, that once the demon's exorcised, we have to kill it," Watari said patiently. "That won't be easy – particularly since we don't know how that will affect you."

Tsuzuki's face fell.

"Look," Watari said. "I know this is hard on you. It's hard on us too, believe me. But we can fix this," he said earnestly. "We've gotten out of worse. We can fix this, even if we can't reverse the damage and recover your memories. We – "

"They're still there," Hisoka interjected.

" – can – what?" Watari stopped mid-sentence and blinked at him.

"Our memories," Hisoka said. "They're still here. He was dreaming them." He gestured to Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki looked bewildered. Watari, on the other hand, got excited. "What happened? Tell me everything."

Hisoka detailed what had happened, from the vague suspicions he had had, to the dream he had witnessed, to the attempt to follow the bond back to the demon. "And what Tsuzuki touched me while I was out of control, I saw – " His voice broke, and he shook his head.

"Tell me what you saw," Watari urged.

"I saw black flame," Hisoka whispered. "Everything was burning, and – and I was so scared."

"You saw what happened in Kyoto," Watari said, looking surprised. "Well, that would make sense. It's a powerful memory, probably for the both of you. Hm . . . this is all interesting, very interesting . . ." He began to pace up and down the room. "Bon," he finally said, "do you think you could tell if Mibu-san still had his memories?"

Hisoka blinked at this request. "I . . . I could try, I guess," he said. "But if he's not dreaming, I don't know if I'll be able to get anything from him."

"Well, just give it a whirl," Watari said.

Hisoka nodded slightly and reached out, placing his hand on top of Oriya's. His eyes were closed for a few long minutes. When they opened again, he looked pensive. "I don't get much of anything from him," he said. "Some vague dreamy feelings. Certainly nothing like a memory, though."

"Okay." Watari frowned slightly.

"What's that mean?" Tsuzuki asked, not about to let the blonde scientist slink away without answering things.

"No clue!" Watari said cheerfully.

Hisoka was still studying Oriya with an intent expression. "It doesn't really feel dreamlike, though," he murmured, almost to himself. "It's more like . . . the way you were, Tsuzuki, before you woke up. All . . . lost in that darkness . . ."

"What are you talking about?" Watari asked, giving Hisoka a curious look.

Hisoka was only looking at Tsuzuki. "Was it dark there?" he asked.

"Yes," Tsuzuki said softly. "Very dark. I wasn't aware of much. I could feel . . . the demon, on the edge of my senses. But mostly it was just that silent darkness, like I was in some sort of prison. And then I heard your voice . . . I saw light."

"Ne, what are you talking about?" Watari asked again, but Tsuzuki and Hisoka ignored him. Watari saw the look they were giving each other, a strangely intent, concentrated look. He decided to shut up for a while.

"Then you woke up," Hisoka said.

"Yes," Tsuzuki said. "I did. You . . . showed me the way back to myself. Again."

Hisoka frowned slightly. "Again?"

Tsuzuki blinked, bewildered. "I . . . I don't know why I said that," he admitted. "But it was familiar. Like it wasn't the first time that you had saved me."

Watari felt suddenly uncomfortable in the room, although he was fairly sure that the other two Shinigami had totally forgotten about his presence. However, since they had fallen silent, he decided to remind them. He cleared his throat. Tsuzuki jumped and Hisoka blushed. "What are you talking about?" Watari asked again.

"Before Tsuzuki woke up, while we thought he was still cursed," Hisoka said, "I . . . had fallen asleep. I was calling to him, I think . . . and then he woke up."

"Oh." Watari blinked. "How?"

Hisoka shook his head. "I don't know."

There was a long silence.

"Well," Watari finally declared, "you two should probably get some more sleep."

They blinked at him.

"You're kidding, right?" Tsuzuki finally asked.

"Like we're going to be able to sleep?" Hisoka added.

Watari sighed. "Okay, fine. Stay up with Mibu-san for a while, let me know if his condition changes. I'm going to go talk to Tatsumi and see what he's got up his sleeve besides his shadows."

He turned and left the room, leaving Tsuzuki and Hisoka blinking at each other. A moment passed.

Then Tsuzuki smiled wearily. "Sounds like our memories weren't all bad."

"I guess they weren't," Hisoka said.

Watari tapped his pencil against the edge of his desk as he pondered the conundrum that was laid out in front of him. It was becoming plain that he could not use any past examples to deal with this. The spell was reacting in a totally different manner with the Shinigami than it did with humans.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The first obvious difference was the change in memory. The spell had short-circuited on that first step and from there everything had gone haywire. The difference between life and death had mucked something up. Tsuzuki and Hisoka had lost their memories, but if one were to listen to Hisoka, those memories weren't lost; merely somehow contained. Their behavior backed that up, as far as Watari could tell. Although they had no specific memories, they still acted as if they had known each other.

This was true more of Hisoka than of Tsuzuki, but that also made sense to Watari. Clearly, the spell had not taken effect on Hisoka anywhere near as strongly. Watari assumed that from what the demon had said, it had chosen to not pursue the spell on Hisoka after the first step.

Tap. Tap.

From what Hisoka said, Oriya's memories were well and truly lost. The souls coming to the Meifu had not had their memories either, so this also calculated properly. Oriya was a normal human and thus the spell would follow its normal course.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Coming to the Meifu had arrested the spell, but other than that, it would follow its normal course.

Tap.

Watari frowned to himself. He was hung up on that phrase. Follow its normal course.

Tap. Tap.

Follow its –

"Watari-san?" Tatsumi poked his head through the doorway, and Watari's hands jerked, spilling pencils and pens all over the table. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – " His sentence stopped before it finished. "What's wrong?"

Watari turned to Tatsumi, his face paler than usual. "I'm not sure," he said. "But I think we may have made a big mistake."

Muraki found the demon at the playground again.

"I was waiting for you," it said with a slithery, crawly laugh, and stood up from the swing.

It was Oriya.

Muraki gave the demon a cool stare. "Please relinquish that guise," he said, and the demon laughed again.

"You don't like me looking like your friend?" it asked, smiling pleasantly. "Oh, but I like this form. Much, much better than the little girl. I took that form to escape suspicion from the Makai for a while. It's nice to finally be back in a form I appreciate. Good, strong muscles on this one."

"Oriya is in the Meifu. You cannot touch him."

The demon laughed again. "I get the guise when I first touch their mind, if I choose," it said. "I meant to take the Shinigami's form, but that spell went so haywire that I didn't want to try to do anything complicated with it."

Muraki half-turned as the demon stood, watching it as it walked around the playground. "You will release Oriya," he stated. It did not sound like a suggestion.

"Hm. I don't believe I will," the demon drawled. "Are you going to make me?"

"Yes," Muraki said. "If you don't release Oriya, I will exorcise and kill you."

"All right," the demon said agreeably. "But you do realize that if you do that, the Shinigami will also die."

Muraki gave the demon a long, considering look. "I don't believe you."

"As you like," it said with a shrug. "That doesn't make it any less true. Kill me, and the Shinigami will die. Let me live, and your friend will die. It's as simple as that. You have four days to decide."

Muraki said nothing.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the demon said. "You actually believed that crock about how going to the Meifu halts the spell? I'm afraid to say it isn't so; at least, not for a human. After all, your friend's soul can't go to the Meifu right now, because I still have it. And the spirituality of the Meifu has no effect on a living body. While I'll admit that the effects of the spell would be halted on a Shinigami by a transfer to the Meifu, that certainly wouldn't apply to your friend."

"You're lying," Muraki said.

"Am I?" the demon smiled, a painfully familiar expression on Oriya's face.

Muraki had the demon pinned against the ground moments later, his hand around its throat. "Release Oriya," he said.

The demon smiled, even as Muraki's hands tightened on its throat. "Do you dream about doing this to him?"

"Release him now," Muraki snarled.

"No." The demon made a sharp gesture with one hand and Muraki was thrown backwards. He regained his footing easily and gave the demon a wary look. "I've given you the terms," the demon said. "You have four days, and any damage the spell causes to your friend in that time cannot be undone. You had best do some thinking, then, on who is more important to you."