Disclaimer: I can't even begin to imagine what'd it be like if I actually own YnM. I'd be filthy rich! But, as luck would have it, all I know how to draw is a pathetic excuse for a stick figure…damn.

Warnings: hmm…I'll get back to you on this…oh yeah…spoilers for the whole series…

Notes: weehaw! And I actually had the guts to write again! Go, me! Hee…I have a title! It means, "remember; recollect; recognize"

Mioboeru

Part One: Jinmenjuushin

There was a continuous buzzing of people—spirits, if you would have it—on the other side of the door. I continue to ignore it, like I've been doing for the last twenty minutes or so, and went on with my packing.

It's been almost two weeks since I woke up to find myself in the infirmary and now I'm more than eager to go home. I miss my own bed. Hisoka checked out about three days ago and if I'm not mistaken, is back at the office, doing some paper work. I was supposed to be out of this sickeningly aseptic place by then as well, but Watari won't let me, saying my wounds still need healing.

There, I'm done. Ahh…I'm so tired. Ever since…I always find myself tired. Maybe it's the emotional aspect of it that gets me tired, like what Watari said, or maybe I was too close…too close…

"Exist…for me. I need you!"

I can still hear Hisoka's voice as I sat in the middle of that burning inferno, in a daze, with him kneeling in front of me, sobbing like I've never seen him before.

Baka…stop it. You're fine now. Don't give them a reason to worry or you're never getting out of this godawful place.

"Hey, you all set?"

I looked up to see the smiling face of the agency's resident doctor. Watari was standing by the door, 003 perched on his shoulders.

"Yep! I'm ready to go!" put on the game face, and smile for all you're worth.

He walks in and carries my bag. Tatsumi brought it in during my eighth day. I wasn't really in that bad a shape that I can't wear my own clothes. Besides, I wasn't getting too fond of the hospital gown they donned me in since I woke up.

We walked out of the infirmary and the bright light of the sun readily assaults my senses. I raise my head up to the light, like a sunflower bending to where the sun is, and just back in the warmth it offered. "I miss the outside world! It's good to be back!"

Watari smiles fondly. "It's good to have you back. So, where to?"

I ponder on this for a while. I could go in the office and check in for a while. Maybe drop by Tatsumi-san's office to say hi. Or, I could go straight to the cafeteria and see what's new on the menu. I looked to where Watari was standing, his blond hair being swept by the everlasting spring breeze, still smiling with my bag in his hands. "Home, I think. I wanna go take a nice warm shower."

We went out into the streets and start to walk to my house. I offered to carry my bag and let him stay in the infirmary, but he would have none of it. "Your wounds still need to be healed. Remember, Touda's flames weren't superficial so you can't rely on your shinigami healing powers. It takes time."

We reach my house a few minutes later and I invite him in for tea. He just smiled and told me to get some more rest, and then he was on his way.

Rest. Rest is good. I need it, but for some reason I just can't get myself to lie down and sleep in peace. My mind kept going back to my last encounter with that platinum blond-haired bastard. That left me in acting like some crazy psycho on depressants. I can still remember how everyone—Hisoka, even more—had this worried-sick expression to their faces when I unleashed Touda in that basement and stared at him and his blazing talent like it was the show of the year.

Well, have someone tell you you're not human—instead a monster, no less—and top it off with a pseudo-rape type of operation and see how well you react to it.

But, I'm backtracking, aren't I?

Anyway, I'm home now. I didn't realize how much I missed this place until I saw the bed. argh…I miss this bed!

Plopping unceremoniously on the soft surface, my mind goes back on something I thought about while in the infirmary.

What if no one came to my rescue? Where would I be now? Would I be on the line to reincarnation, or would my soul just vanish into nothingness?

I won't be here, that's for sure. Turning to my side, I smell the sheets and cringe—after not having washed for almost two weeks, even sheets in the afterlife tend to rot. Ignoring the not-so-pleasant odor, I curl up and continue my trail of thoughts.

Reincarnation won't be so bad, now that I think about it. I mean, if I were to be reincarnated—and I might be, because it is true—maybe they'd let me choose what life I'd like. Or maybe they'd decide to actually cut me some slack and go send me somewhere where I'd have a nice and decent life. About five thousand miles away from Muraki would be a good start.

But, there's also the chance that I might just disappear. I don't know much about Shinigami history—despite the fact that I've been one for, oh, a hundred years—but I think that case happened somewhere around the fifties or something. This guy, after he died, became a Shinigami then went back to his family and continued to live like he hadn't died at all, which is a big no-no to this whole undead business. It's kind of like that American movie…what was that? Men In Black? Yeah, I think that's the one. You get a cool job in exchange for everything you have. No biggie.

Someone's knocking, am I right?

Oh yeah.

Wiping my eyes, I look at the clock strategically placed across from my bed. 9:30. Uhm…did I sleep?

Well, duh.

Okay, stand up, stretch for a bit. Ouch. I think I have a crick. Amazing.

The knocking kept on. "Yes, yes, I'm coming. Keep your pants on. Sheesh."

Wide emerald eyes met me from the other side. "Well, hello! Miss me, Hisoka?"

He snorted. Nice to see you, too.

Really, by now I should be used to him. But, I just can't imagine how can someone so young be this…cold.

Oh, yeah.

"What took you so long?" Blunt. Straight. Unfeeling. My partner, ladies and gentlemen.

Laughing, I reach behind my neck to feel the slight crick there. "Ahh…I fell asleep. What's up?"

He looked around for a while before dropping to the couch. "Tatsumi-san sent me to look after you tonight. Have you eaten?"

"Uhm…not yet." Wait…did he say look after me tonight?

Before I know it, he was walking to the kitchen, pulling out a frying pan. "You…uhm…you don't have to do that…really…"

Snort. "I was told to do this."

Flinch. "How about you don't do it. But I'll just tell them you did. If you really…"

He turned to me, chopsticks in hand. "Will you shut up? You have to eat. You need the energy. Now go do something useful and wash yourself. Dinner'll be ready in a while."

Well, there's pretty much nothing more I can say after that, what with him staring me down. So, being the obedient Shinigami that I am, I just walk out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, still nursing my crick that never seems to go away.

Okay, can someone tell me how come shinigamis have the ability to heal from a hackwound in a matter of milliseconds, but can't have tiny crick go away?

I walked into the room in nothing but a towel around my waist after the shower when I heard the soft knocking on the door. "Come in, Hisoka."

He opened the door and blushed madly when his eyes landed on me. Oops, I forgot. Smiling sheepishly, I attempt to cover myself as much as I can. There's only so much surface I can cover with two hands. He turned away, still redfaced. "Dinner's ready. It's on the table."

"Okay…sankyuu, Hisoka."

He closed the door behind him and I was left in the room. Well, that was awkward.

When I walked in the kitchen, he was already sitting on the table, staring holes into it. He waited for me? Aww…

We ate in what could be recorded as the most deafening silence in all of Meifu. He cooked some noodles and made a salad, and we had cake. Cake! Aww…

After 'stuffing myself', I laid back on the chair and gave a resounding burp. He gave me a glare.

Hmm…let me guess. That means 'baka.'

Rubbing my stomach like a stuffed pig would if they had long arms, I smile into his direction, "That was really good, Hisoka-chan! Sankyuu! When did you have the time to make cake? But it was really good! I didn't know you were a good cook! Mm…can we do this again? I really enjoyed it!" Hey, I had to shut up for a whole meal. Don't blame me.

He gave me one of his patented 'baka' looks, but I saw his lips curl a bit. His version of a smile, I guess. "Welcome."

I offered to wash the dishes, which he accepted right away. After that, we sat at the couch for a while and watched some TV. When I first came here, we didn't really have TV, but the first time we did, I was amazed at how we can actually have shows. Watari told me that we got a reception from earth where we "steal the entertainment from" or something like that. Anyway, it's good entertainment.

We went to bed at about a little past ten since Hisoka has to go to work early the next day. I'm still on forced vacation, courtesy of Tatsumi. But since Hisoka is indeed going to spend the night, he's going to occupy the couch. And he really won't be able to sleep if I'm still there watching TV.

He was already settled in when I was on my way to the room. Stopping a bit at my doorway, I turn to him and ask in a small voice. "Hisoka…?"

"Aa?"

"Am I…am I human?"

Silence.

Maybe he doesn't want to hear that again. God knows I've asked him that too many times for him to develop spite for the question. Slumping a bit, I turn off the lights and walk into my bedroom, whispering a soft 'oyasumi.'

The very second before I could close the door, I heard him. It was so soft, really, that if I were breathing at the same moment, I might miss it. But, what he said…it made me smile. Despite his tough exterior, my partner's all heart inside, really.

"You're more human than anyone I've ever met."

AN: Okay, I'd like to clear something up a bit…English isn't my first language so it's no wonder why I'm not good at it. I know there are some tense confusions in there, but let's just pass it off as one of the works of the human mind, 'kay? Or, if someone would be kind enough to want to proofread this before I can post it, that'd be great!

Tell me how much you hate it…