You Will Not Be Alone Tonight

Chapter 3 - Guilt is Not Easier Than 'Sorry'

Once the work day was over, Watari intercepted Tsuzuki as he was descending the Ministry's main staircase, and handed him an unremarkable paper bag. "This is the potion," he explained when Tsuzuki looked at it warily. "Remember, that thing you'll need?" Tsuzuki nodded obediently. "It takes effect about five minutes after ingestion, and it should outlast your spirit power, so there's no fear of it running out before you do." He reached over to give Tsuzuki a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Best of luck."

Tsuzuki smiled. "Thanks, Watari," he said, and stuffed the potion into his coat pocket.

His feigned confidence lasted through the hours that passed between his encounter with Watari and his arrival at Tatsumi's apartment building; as soon as it came into sight at the end of the road, Tsuzuki hesitated. He wasn't afraid of being caught by Tatsumi: he knew that the other Shinigami would most definitely be asleep by then. What held him back was the all-too-clear knowledge that Tatsumi had always represented his emergency storehouse of strength; it was him, Tsuzuki, who had always been the weak one in their relationship. If Tatsumi couldn't defeat whatever he was facing, what right did Tsuzuki have to even try? Wouldn't he only make everything worse?

With a growl of despondent frustration, Tsuzuki turned away from Tatsumi's home and stalked back the way he had come. He would lie to Watari, say that he hadn't been able to accomplish anything, and leave the rest to Hisoka. With his empathic abilities and his book-wisdom, Hisoka would stand a much better chance of healing Tatsumi, especially since he wouldn't have to undo whatever damage Tsuzuki might have caused.

Tsuzuki was frozen in his tracks then by an unbidden memory of the cathedral where Luka had promised to find a way for everyone to be happy while she held Tatsumi's alter-ego. All he wanted was her, but he never thought he'd be good enough, and she... Tsuzuki looked back at the darkened window that he knew divided Tatsumi's bedroom from the outside world. She took it for granted that she'd never have anything to offer him. And both of them would have missed each other completely if I hadn't come along. They would have been trapped by cages of their own design.

He reached into the pocket of his coat, and his fingers found the paper bag as he started to turn all the way around. "All I can do is try, Tatsumi," he said, "but I really won't deserve you if I don't even do that." He pulled the bag out of his pocket, uncorked the vial, and downed the contents in one swallow. It tasted sweet, and Tsuzuki wondered whether Watari had added sugar to it for his benefit.

Resolutely, Tsuzuki planted his feet on the sidewalk and waited for the potion to take effect. His eyes didn't leave the black square of Tatsumi's window until he moved forward to begin his mission.

 

----
 

Upon entering Tatsumi's mind, Tsuzuki found himself in what appeared to be a well-tended garden. Attractive, perfectly symmetrical rows of flowers lined the white picket fence, their bright colours blazing in the sunlight. Not even the run-down building with its back to the garden could dampen its serene beauty, and Tsuzuki felt himself relaxing.

"This isn't so bad," he said, and smiled. "Maybe Watari really did fix everything."

No sooner had the last word reached his own ears than Tsuzuki heard a man cry out in pain; the half groan, half scream was followed by the crack of splintering wood, and Tsuzuki sighed as he broke into a run. Hisoka's right. I need to think before I say anything.

"Tatsumi!" he called as he charged around the building and onto the front lawn, sure that Tatsumi had been the one to cry out. Here, the flowers were withered in places, and completely trampled and uprooted in others: the fenceposts were cracked, and even the sunlight seemed dimmer. As soon as Tsuzuki's eyes found Tatsumi, he understood why.

Tatsumi was standing on the building's front steps, tendrils of shadow swirling around him erratically; his victim, a man with violet wings and torn clothing, lay sprawled over the front gate. Tsuzuki could hear him whimpering, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." over and over, and had to shut it out of his mind lest the incessant chanting drive him insane.

"Tatsumi!" he called again, and Tatsumi turned his head just far enough to betray the fact that he'd heard.

"Not now," he said softly, and a whip of shadow struck the ground in front of Tsuzuki as at least five others struck the winged man. He moaned in broken relief when they retracted, and Tsuzuki noticed that every pained noise the winged man made was met with a flinch from Tatsumi. It's hurting him, too. He doesn't want to do this... but why doesn't he just stop?

"Please, Tatsumi... please listen to me?" Tsuzuki took advantage of Tatsumi's seemingly-indifferent attitude to advance on him. "It's obvious that this isn't what you want. Please, stop."

"I have to kill him. I have to make it right." It was clear that the words weren't meant for Tsuzuki.

"No, you don't, Tatsumi--" Tsuzuki's eyes strayed back to the winged man as he spoke, and his voice disappeared temporarily at the sight of the purple eyes and black hair, identical to his own. I think I'm starting to understand this... he thought, almost wishing that he hadn't understood.

"You shouldn't be alive. I cheated you out of death." Grey shards floated into Tatsumi's irises, and the shadows began to move in faster circuits around his body.

"Yes," Tsuzuki said quickly, trying to capitalize on what he saw as an admission of compassion. "You saved me. You did the right--"

"You don't understand!" The words came out sounding like a sob, but Tatsumi's eyes remained dry until his shadow drew another cry from the winged man. "I never meant to save you, only Kurosaki. If he hadn't been holding you, I would have left you to die." He raised his left hand to cover one side of his face. "Not only did I deny your wish, I had no reason to. I didn't love you enough to be selfish, and yet Kurosaki, the misanthropist..." Another wave of shadows lashed the winged man, whose cries were becoming less piercing and more resigned. "I did right by no one. Do you see?" A tear ran down Tatsumi's face. "All I have ever done is hurt you, and I can't stop, even now, even when we hardly have anything to do with each other. I still hurt you: I'm still in your way."

Tsuzuki barely heard anything that followed Tatsumi's confession; it took almost all he had to shelve his own emotions temporarily, to remember why he had come in the first place. I have to help Tatsumi. "People... people spend their lives hurting each other. But sometimes..." He thought of Tatsumi resigning from their partnership, and remembered Hisoka's gun prodding into his back like a personified Destiny's fingertip. "Sometimes it works out for the best." Other images came to him then: Hisoka's harsh, judgmental roughness, Terazuma's continued ignorance of Wakaba, Chidsuru returning to her old life just long enough to re-ignite Rika's pain, and Tsubaki's unflinching adoration of Muraki. "Love isn't the absence of that cruelty: it's caring about someone and wanting them around despite it." He paused just long enough to place a hand on his own chest. "I love you, Tatsumi."

Tatsumi looked away, and the shadows around him began to waver. He moved toward the winged man, and touched one of his wings gingerly, wincing as he realized that it was broken. "I can't ever make this right."

"It doesn't matter." Tsuzuki came forward, and placed a hand on Tatsumi's shoulder, causing the shadows to disappear completely. "It doesn't make any difference whose fault this is, or who hurts the most." He moved closer, until he was able to wrap his arms around Tatsumi's chest and rest his forehead against Tatsumi's shoulder. "I'll forgive you as often as I need to. All you have to do is ask me to."

Tatsumi's hands settled over Tsuzuki's forearms, lightly at first and then with a force that bordered on desperation. "I'm... I'm sorry," he said, and both the winged man and the gate vanished completely.

"And I forgive you." Tsuzuki let go of Tatsumi slowly, offering the other Shinigami one of his brightest smiles in response to his questioning stare. "It's time for you to move on now," he explained, struck by how similar these words were to those he said to humans whose lives he was about to end.

Tatsumi looked as though he would protest, but he eventually nodded. "Yes. Thank you," he said, and began walking. As soon as he crossed the threshold of the gate, the scene evaporated, and Tsuzuki was once again in Tatsumi's apartment, perched on the chair closest to Tatsumi's futon.

To his credit, Tsuzuki made it all the way to the relative seclusion of the back stairwell before he began to cry.
 

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