Puppet Master by Gaki

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter shouldn't have taken so long to get out but it did. It would have taken longer had I not found this song which gave me what I should have down in this chapter in an instant. Yey for angsty songs!

[1] = Book #3 King of Swords Arc. Tsuzuki is such an awesome character… even more so when he's pissed off, don't you think so?

Am I that unimportant…?
Am I so insignificant…?
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
-- Evanescence - Missing

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No human would wish to be forgotten. No human would go through life and not want someone, if only one person, to remember their place in the world. It is the wish of every person to have their friends and family remember them when they are gone. It is the wish of every man, woman and child to be remembered by the ones they loved.

For if they are remembered, they will continue to live on in the memories of their beloved.

It is a lonely thing to be forgotten. It is a sad and tragic thing to not be remembered.

Who would want to be completely forgotten? Who would want to be looked over by those they considered their family and friends?

No one.

No human would wish to be forgotten because every human has the wish to live forever.

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There had been many times before where blood had stained his hands. The blood of those he knew and didn't know of. The blood of innocence had stained his hands, his face and his body before. Even his own blood has been poured onto himself. Yet, none of those times would shock him as this one time did. None of those times, those faces and angry voices, would ever compare to the feeling of complete horror that ran through his body as he choked at the blood that was building up in his throat. Falling onto his back, hands clutching at the deep long cut on his throat, Tsuzuki gazed up with wide violet eyes at his partner. Green eyes that used to be brilliant and full of life were now dull and glazed over. Eyes that once would look into his own, as if trying to look deeper behind his smiles were currently looking at him yet he knew they didn't see him. He knew that those eyes could no longer see the difference between friend and foe.

He also knew, at that instant, that he was currently the enemy.

Sticky warm liquid slowly made its way through his fingers and down his hands, soaking into his clothes. It was painful. Shinigami or not, the ability to heal over and over again did not matter because they would always feel the pain. And it was painful. The knife had sliced cleanly through his skin. He choked, trying to get his voice to work as he felt the cut began to heal itself.

"Hi… Hi…"

Behind his dazed partner, Muraki was smiling. It wasn't a pleasant smile or one full of malice. It was a smile that whispered of amusement and of glee for having something to watch. It was a smile that would comfort those who did not know Muraki like he did and send a feeling of unease to those who did. It was a smile that said softly to him: See what I can do. See the things I can control. Is it not wonderful?

And he glared. He glared because he did not find it amusing. He did not find it wonderful or awe inspiring that Muraki could do something like this. That Muraki would only need a single snap of his fingers and Hisoka would so easily be in his control. No, he did not find it the least bit amusing. In fact, it angered him. It enraged him that to this man, this constantly smiling doctor, Hisoka would forever be used as a tool. Hisoka would be nothing more than a toy that could be played with whenever Muraki was bored. He grounded his teeth together as his cut was finally sealed. Lifting his hands from his throat, Tsuzuki slowly raised himself up back onto his feet, eyes never once leaving those of Muraki's.

"Do you wish to know why he would want such a thing, Tsuzuki-san?" Muraki asked pleasantly, as if he hadn't seen Hisoka come back to life only to slice his partner's throat.

Tsuzuki glared, violet eyes burning with anger and hatred as he clenched his hands into tight fists, looking over Hisoka's head at Muraki. "… Hisoka's reason for not wanting me around him doesn't matter to me."

"Oh? Is that so?" An elegant eyebrow rose slightly. "I would have thought that it would matter, Tsuzuki-san, since you care so much for the darling boy. Don't you want to know why? Don't you have the need to know why he would want such a thing?"

He did. He wanted to know. Yet if he said so then he would only leave himself open for more of Muraki's twisting words. He would open himself into doubting things. He was not stupid. He was far from being stupid. He still remembers those words Muraki had told him only the day before.

"We both use him for something."

Yes. It was true. He used Hisoka. Every day, every moment they were together, he was using Hisoka. He used Hisoka for his own selfish needs. Yet, it was different from how Muraki used his partner. I use him. Every time he looks at me… I'm using him. It was different because he was using Hisoka to give himself the sense of being able to do something. He used Hisoka so he could protect him. He used Hisoka so he could help him. He used and used Hisoka over and over again because he wanted to be the one Hisoka would run to. He was selfish. He was a greedy person. I use him so he would only need me. He used Hisoka to give himself hope.

I use him because I want him to need only me.

A chuckle broke him from his thoughts as Muraki slowly made his way towards Hisoka. Willing himself not to jump forward and pull the younger man away, Tsuzuki trembled with anger as Muraki lifted a hand up to brush it against Hisoka's cheek. He watched, reminding himself that his partner was at the moment no longer himself, as an arm clothed in white snaked its way across a slim waist to pull the slender body back against Muraki's own. Tsuzuki's hands shook, his eyes narrowed themselves and the air around him almost crackled with the energy he was building up. Seeing this only seemed to please Muraki even more.

A pale finger ran a trail down Hisoka's brow to his neck, Muraki's lips smiling. "Tsuzuki-san… you had said that you will free him from me." That same finger went lower, moving over the pale skin of Hisoka's chest and stopped near his stomach. And before Tsuzuki's very eyes the telltale sign of Muraki's power over Hisoka began to show. Each red stroke of a curse laughed at Tsuzuki as they brightened more, looking as if they burned yet Hisoka remained still and unmoving.

Move, please. Jerk away. Shout. Yell. Do something. Don't just stand there like that. Please, Hisoka… please.

"Show me."

Amethyst eyes slowly looked away from those curse marks to look into cool pale ones. Muraki repeated himself, his hand rubbing up and down on Hisoka's stomach as if he was a cat.

"Show me, Tsuzuki-san. Show me how you will free him."

Those silver eyes gleamed with desire.

"Show me everything you have."

And then he moved away from Hisoka, crossing his arms across his chest as he spoke once more.

"Show me your desire to free him, Tsuzuki-san."

In a flash, Hisoka rushed forward, catching Tsuzuki off guard as he shoved the older man into the wall.

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In the beginning, there was nothing but Darkness. Or so many books had said so. In the beginning, there was nothing but a void of nothingness. And then… and then one day a loud deep voice spoke out commanding there to be Light. And from then on, the world was filled with Light. His world had started out much like that. In the beginning, he saw only darkness. In the beginning, in his young years there was a cloud of darkness blocking his eyes. He could see and yet at the same time he couldn't. And then one day, everything disappeared. And then one day, everything was gone. But in a quick flash, he saw Light. He saw Light and what it was offering to him. He saw faces, strangers he didn't know. He saw faces and heard voices that belonged to those faces. And then he saw the Sun.

He saw the Sun in its bright blue sky and its big beautiful clouds. And when he tried to remember the Darkness, the blinding light of the Sun would hurt him. Until one day, he was finally able to see someone. A person with short gray hair and an old face and that person asked him a question.

"Is your will still strong?"

He was confused yet some how, he knew what that person was asking about. He knew what was asked of him. And without blinking, he nodded. Yes. He wanted to say but found that he had no voice. Yes.

Satisfied with his answer, the old man smiled and nodded back.

"Then you will do." He said. "Then you will be the one."

He was confused once again. But that was not how it went. That was not how his world began.

It was all wrong.

In the beginning, there was nothing but a void. It was a void that was large and empty. It was a void that was created when he was shunned and locked away. It was a void that was created because he was no longer loved and because he was no longer loved, he stopped loving. And because he stopped loving, he no longer cared. And because he no longer cared, he no longer needed any one. And so his world was full of nothing but nothingness. His world was made of nothing but loathing and anger and it created the void. He was happy with the void in his world. He was happy because he needed no one and no one would ever need him.

Again that is wrong. That was not how his world had started.

In the beginning he saw only darkness. In the beginning, he couldn't think, speak or hear anything. He was just surrounded by a warm pool of complete darkness, yet it made him feel safe. He was safe in that warmth. He was protected and nothing could get to him. But then one day, the warmth disappeared and he was blinded by light. He was blinded by brightness and he couldn't do anything and so he cried. He cried and cried and he was so cold. And as he continued to cry and shiver from the cold, he opened his eyes and he saw someone looking down at him. He whimpered and opened his eyes and saw a face looming over his own. He saw a face of a person who was currently crying also. He saw a face that was currently flushed pink with tears streaming down their face and he instantly fell in love with that person.

He opened his eyes, saw that person and fell deeply in love with them. He fell in love with that person because she was the first thing he saw in the light. He fell in love with her because she had kept him warm when he was shivering. He fell in love with her because she had the same warmth around her like the place he had been in. He fell in love with her because she was holding him, hugging him, kissing him and was crying silently against his cheek as she muttered words he didn't understand.

And as time passed by, he continued to love her. He continued to feel warm around her and he continued to want sleep with her arms around his body. And as time passed by he started to understand what she was saying. He started to try to speak back to her, to say that he loved her and he never wanted to be away from her. And as he started to understand and spoke in broken words, he started to walk. And he would follow her everywhere she went. He would hold onto the hem of her robe and try to keep up with her as she walked through out the household.

And as time passed by, he would notice that she hadn't stopped crying. As time passed by and he continued to learn how to walk better, speak better and understand words more, he noticed that she would look at him and cry. Sometimes he would ask her and she would shake her head. Sometimes he would ask her and she would get up and leave him. And sometimes he would start to cry with her. And there would be times where he couldn't find her anywhere. There would be times where he would wander through the house and he wouldn't be able to see her in any of the rooms. And when he would ask no one would tell him anything. When he would tug on a hand or pull at a robe, they would only smile and tell him to go play. They didn't tell him where she was, never once would they say anything about her.

Until one day, she appeared again. Until one day as he was sitting alone in the tea room, his eyes looking out at the garden, she came in silently and sat down next to him. Until one day she'd come back to him and he'd turn around, his eyes wide as he looked up at her. And she'd gaze back down at him with a smile on her face. And then he'd asked her…

"Where did Mother go?"

And she'd smiled and lifted her hand to run it through his hair, her voice soft as she replied. "Mother was sick."

He'd reached out then, putting his short arms around her as best as he could as he whispered against her warmth. "Don't get sick again."

And she'd rubbed his back, her other hand still on his head as she complied. "Mother won't get sick again."

"Don't get sick again… Hisoka was worried."

She'd promised him she wouldn't get sick again. But she lied. She lied and as more time passed by, she started to disappear again. She wouldn't come to him when he called for her. And soon, the sickness had spread through out the household. And soon, the sickness had even caught him because he was able to hear things he wasn't supposed to. He was able to know things he shouldn't have known and they all said he was sick. And she wouldn't come near him at all.

And there would be times where he was put away; locked up in a cold and dark room all by himself and all he could hear were the strange sounds in the darkness and feel the cold biting hands of the air around him. Sometimes, people would come by. Whenever he was locked away for long periods of time, they would come and bring him food or to clean him. None of them ever stayed long though. They would leave the moment they were done. He learned to ignore them then. He learned to not care about them. He learned to not want to cry for them to stay longer when they rose to leave the room. He learned to dull the pain in his chest whenever he felt like crying.

He learned how to not feel in that room. He became so good at not feeling, that when his Mother did come, he did not feel any joy when he looked up into her face. He did not feel any longing when he heard her voice. He did not feel like crying when she uttered in her soft voice the words that should have broken him up.

"Why was a child like you ever born?"

He only gazed up into her eyes, eyes that once were affectionate and caring, and wondered, why was a child like me ever born?

And then suddenly he finally hit the hard floor, gasping out as the breath was knocked out of his chest.

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Dull green eyes gazed unblinking up into shocked violets. The clash of pale on tan, white on dark, evergreen on velvet violet was a beautiful sight to behold. He was never a man to overlook the beauty of things. Always, he would find the time to stand still and admire a statue, watch the colors on a tapestry or listen to the beautiful music played by the graceful hands of a geisha stringing a koto. Oriya had once commented that he had a weakness for beautiful things and he, being no one else but him, had replied that beautiful things should be gazed upon, should be touched, tasted and felt. For if a thing of beauty was not something that a man could enjoy, then why would it be considered as something beautiful?

The man before him was beautiful. Dark brown locks of hair cascading down a strong face with twin violet eyes that burn with an intense passion whenever he was angered. He wanted to see that beauty. He wanted to see that burning passion. He wanted to hold it, grasp it in his hands, touch it and taste it and see that burning anger up close. There were so many ways to cause that passion to arise in those eyes. So many simple and easy things to cause Tsuzuki to gaze at him with that look, but none of them satisfied him. None of them was enough; none of them resembled that passion in those eyes like the first time they'd fought against each other.

That boy, nothing more than a child still, had caused that intense passion to arise in those beautiful eyes. It amused him, how something he had once touched and bloodied could stir such anger in someone like Tsuzuki. It confused him how a mere child like that troublesome boy could cause that passion that he wanted for himself only. At first, he had thought nothing of it that Tsuzuki was clearly a man who cared deeply for others, stupid as that is. Yet he was wrong. It was true that the other man did care for others but that one time, that one instant had proved him wrong.

The glass was capable of withstanding cannonballs and yet Tsuzuki had cleanly cracked it into a million tiny designs of spider webs with only one punch. And that look on his face. That look of an enraged animal trying to break free to get at its enemy, or was that prey? [1]

He watched them through indifferent eyes. He watched as Tsuzuki tried to call out for his partner, trying to bring him back to his senses and his lip quirked a bit. People were strange at times. Even though they knew it would be useless, people would still try to find the light at the end of the tunnel. They would try, using whatever means they had to, to reach that promising light. Tsuzuki was trying right now. With his pleading eyes and his earnest voice, Tsuzuki was trying desperately to reach his partner.

Did the man not know that the boy no longer had his own thoughts? Is he not looking into those dull green eyes right now and see nothing in them?

"Hi-Hisoka!"

He smiled. Perhaps not.

"Tsuzuki-san." He started casually, as if he didn't see Hisoka lifting the blade in his hands once more only to drive it down and into Tsuzuki's chest.

The sound of a choked gurgling filled the room as he spoke up once again.

"Tsuzuki-san… have you ever heard of the story of a puppet named Pinocchio?" He did not expect an answer to his question, so he continued on. "Pinocchio was made of wood, you see. Crafted and sanded by the hands of a man named Geppetto. Geppetto was a lonely man for he has no children of his own. He crafted Pinocchio as his son, a son which will not speak to him. Yet he wished, if it was only a foolish one that the wooden puppet would one day be able to speak back to him."

As he spoke, Muraki turned around, heading back towards where Veronica was sitting. Picking the slightly burnt doll up into his hands, he cleaned her face with his thumb. Gazing into those fake green eyes, he continued on.

"However, one night, his wish would be granted. A fairy came and with the touch of her wand, she gave the puppet known as Pinocchio life. However, he was still made of wood. Not of flesh or blood, but of something hard and dead. He had no veins in which blood could flow through. He did not need air to breath life into his body. He did not need food to keep him going. He was not a living thing; he was nothing more than an imitation of something."

He turned back, the doll still in his hands as he watched the scene before him uncaringly. Still pressed up against the wall, Tsuzuki was struggling against Hisoka. Pale hands bloodied with the blood of his partner, the boy that had once cried and screamed at him was currently diving the blade over and over again into the one person who was the first to reach out to him. His eyes narrowed then. The man before him would never know what a big impact he was in the boy's life. He would never know just how by reaching out and being there for the boy meant to the child.

Like a dog that has been kicked too many times, Hisoka has built a shield around himself. Slowly, over the years of his life, the boy had taught himself not to flinch or whimper at the hinting of hatred. Like a dog that has learnt its lesson, Hisoka has deadened himself to those around him. The boy was like a lost dog that has been thrown out of its home. Wandering around the streets of the world, he has learned that humans were not as great beings as they put themselves up to be. He has lost all of his hope in humans, the boy. Teaching himself to bite the hands that would dare come too near, the boy had learned to protect himself.

Yet, Tsuzuki had slowly and surely reached out to pet him. He was sure that Hisoka had put up a good fight against those slender fingers that tried to touch him. He was positive that Tsuzuki had failed more than once while trying to prove to the boy that not all humans were like those who have raised him. And even through the years of mistrust placed on those around him, the shield that protected the boy's beliefs was slowly breaking. Around its edges, small cracks were forming. By just reaching out and doing nothing more, Tsuzuki done more than anyone ever could.

That was where he came in. The man that had pinned that slender child down and placed a binding on that pale body so that they would forever be connected, he would not stand around while something he had put much effort into was slowly cracking. Oh, they would never hear it and the boy would deny it a million times over if asked but it was Hisoka himself that had called out to Muraki.

It amused him when he had heard it, that faint sound at the back of his head. It was like the sound of water dripping from a distance. You know it is there, yet you can not pinpoint exactly where it is. He did not know when it had started, that small plea from Hisoka. Yes, it was a plea, a small whimpering from a dog that was frightened of those strange hands that were reaching out to touch it. It was the whine of a dog that was unsure if those hands would raise up to hit it. It was the whimpering of a puppy that wanted to believe that its owner has finally came back to shower nothing but loving affection onto it. It was a plea mixed with fear, hope and longing that was held together by doubt.

While part of Hisoka wanted to believe in Tsuzuki, there was also a part of him that didn't. There was a part of him that wanted the man before him to disappear; there was a part of him that wanted to bite back still, to bite harder so he would scare Tsuzuki away. There was so much doubt in that boy's mind. There was a part of him thinking that if he let those hands touch him, they would turn around and smack him across the face.

Human beings truly are interesting creatures. While having the desire to be saved, they would still rather be left alone in their misery rather than to be hurt once again.

Yet, that was not the reason why he was here, no.

"Do you wish to know what that puppet wanted the most, Tsuzuki-san?"

He was here to once again prove to Hisoka that he is nothing more than a shell of what someone wanted him to be.

That he was nothing more than a boy that would forever be used as a marionette by other people.

"He wished to become a real boy."

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Someone was crying. In the back of his mind, he could hear them. The soft sniffing that sounded muffled because of the hands covering their mouth; someone was crying. Somewhere he could hear a person crying, a soft sniffing sound that spoke of how that person was trying hard not to cry too loudly for fear of something.

It took awhile for him to be able to lift himself up, the fall being abrupt and sudden that it shocked any movement from him. There was a dull pounding in the back of his head and he rubbed it gently as he slowly opened his eyes.

Nothing.

He saw complete nothingness. Correction; he saw a door. Rubbing his temple with a slight frown on his face, Hisoka slowly made his way towards the door.

Someone was still crying. Yet, he pushed the door open, thinking that if he did, he would find however was crying behind it. However, that was not what he found. Instead, he found himself standing inside the office of the Shokan Division.

What…? Is this a dream…?

Frowning once more, letting out a soft sigh, he made his way to his desk. Resting his elbows on the hard surface, Hisoka placed his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes against the butt of his palms roughly. Was that… was that all a dream? How did I get back here? Was I just daydreaming? But… why would I daydream about something like that? Opening his eyes slightly, gazing down at the dull grey surface of the desk, he frowned. … What's going on?

That was when he noticed it; a small note on his desk telling him that there was a staff meeting going on and that he'd better go before the Chief got angry. Letting out another sigh, muttering under his breath about him being late for a meeting instead of Tsuzuki for a change, Hisoka pushed himself out of his chair and made his way towards the closed door of the meeting room. It was cast in darkness, the overhead lights turned off so that the Chief could show the slides of the cases they were to investigate. Seating himself in the back, he rested his elbow on the desk before him as he looked at each and every image before him. However, he could not find himself paying much attention to anything Konoe was currently telling them.

His mind was elsewhere, pondering still over his strange daydream. Why… why would I have a daydream like that?

There was a click and suddenly his vision was blinded for a moment before everything was clear again. He saw Tsuzuki then. He saw Tsuzuki standing up and smiled brightly as he looked up at him. … Always smiling. I wonder why you keep smiling like that… even when your eyes seem so sad. As Tsuzuki made his way towards him, Hisoka stood up, waiting to hear his partner jump and bounce around him, throwing questions in ever direction and him trying to answer them all in order. It was annoying, yes, but at the same time, it felt… nice. It felt… almost normal to have someone worry over him like this. To have someone… to have someone care enough to bother him like this.

So he stood, waiting for Tsuzuki to start yapping about in his hyper ways.

"You're late, kid! Good thing Kachou was too busy yelling at me for being late and didn't notice that you came in late too."

The twitching of his brow had somehow become almost second nature whenever it concerned Tsuzuki. It was currently twitching, his brow, as he glared up at his partner for calling him a kid. Running a hand through his hair, he opened his mouth to reply.

"Don't call me---"

"My name is Asuka!"

His eyes shot open. W-what? Turning around, Hisoka found himself faced with a boy around his age. However, it must be his eyes still trying to adjust to the sudden light; he couldn't make out the other boy's face. What… what's going on here? Turning back around, he looked back up at Tsuzuki. Who… you're… you're talking to me, right? Aren't you? … Aren't you Tsuzuki?

However, his partner only laughed and reached for his jacket. "I'll call you Asuka as long as you stop calling me senpai."

Sen… senpai? Asuka? … Tsuzuki… I'm… I'm your partner!

Tsuzuki didn't seem to notice him, however, as he went along his way, chatting animatedly with Asuka. Hisoka stood there, dumbfounded as he watched Tsuzuki walk away from him. He stood there with his eyes wide open as he watched Tsuzuki walk side by side with a person who was not him. He watched as Tsuzuki walk away with his partner who wasn't named Kurosaki Hisoka, but Asuka.

And then he called out to Tsuzuki.

"Tsuzuki!!"

Tsuzuki kept walking.

"Tsuzuki!!" I'm here! I'm right here!

Tsuzuki didn't hear him.

"Tsuzuki!!!" I'm your partner!

Tsuzuki didn't turn around.

"Tsuzuki!!!" Don't… don't leave me.

Tsuzuki laughed at Asuka.

"TSUZUKI!!!" Can't… can't you hear me?

Tsuzuki opened the door.

"TSUZUKI!!!" Why… why can't you see me?

Tsuzuki left, not even turning back to look at him once.

Somewhere, he continued to hear someone crying.

Sorry for the long lagging of this chapter, sadly, Chapter 14 might take awhile also. ^^;