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'Dolls'

by

Kohaku Tenshi

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Author Note: First person POV by our much loved Muraki-sensei.

Please be kind, this is my first Yami no Matsuei ficlet. And I have not written in quite some time...

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It has been over a year since I last stepped foot into my home. A fine layer of dust has since settled rather annoyingly about my items, giving the once bright wood of the banister a chalky appearance, as if touch alone might cause it to break. Sliding a finger slowly up the side, I sighed in resignation at the thought that I shall soon have need of a maid. Well, if anything, perhaps I could acquire yet another beautiful doll for my rather extensive collection... That boy was only one of many. Although one of my most treasured, he was far from my grasp at the moment, sealed protectively within the now impenetrable shield of Meifu.

For now, at least. I could always start up a little more... paperwork for them. Yes...

Making my way slowly up the stairs, I smiled at every single creak that sounded beneath my feet, singing sweet praise at their masters return. The air was slightly musty from the constant temperature changes that plague any home, causing a bit of the wood to have become wet with moisture. I shall have to call Sakaki to arrange a more thorough cleaning than a single maid could provide... So much for my temporary dream of having a new doll to play with...

Upon entering the upstairs hall, I had to take a slight pause to wonder at the dust motes as they flickered about, dancing through the sunbeams like so many souls departing for their heaven. I had no cause to hurry, deciding to take my time as I peered into each and every room, making sure that my things had remained untouched since I had been gone on my 'extended vacation'. I trusted Oriya to have come in from time to time, wandering from room to room as he hoped that I would soon return to his side. I was not blind to the traces of his lingering presence... Especially that which was the strongest at the end of the long hall, trickling down to me on a current of air that bended to my will. This was my home, after all. My base. The point at which all my power resided.

If it were to be disturbed, then I would feel its pain...

At the end of the long hall, there where the windows had long since been removed, was my favorite room of the entire three stories...

The doll room.

Yes, I owned more than the spoiled brat turned shinigami.. In fact, these were actual dolls. Not the flesh and bone that I had repaired to make whole, nor the cursed and bound humans I had toyed with in the past. These dolls were porcelain, some plastic... Trinkets and mementos from a childhood I still longed to forget. Why hold onto the memories then? Well, that is for me to consider.

The first doll I found myself holding, was a small, pale little thing with golden curls and a blue hat topped with a ribbon. A cascade of silk and lace fell about her body, and I ran my fingers over the softness before dancing them up to her face. Her blue eyes had at one time been in need of replacement, and I had found a willing donor in an antique shop not far from my home. Smiling at the memory, I placed her aside, petting her pretty little head before moving on to the next. There were so many in this one room alone... From brunettes to blondes, as well as fiery red to deepest black, I had nearly every type imaginable. Their eyes were all different as well. In fact, one or two of the pretty dears possessed a shade much like my beloved's own. And yet, they could never be like Tsuzuki-san's... for his were bright and vibrant with the sparkling of life within.. These... were merely replicas. Copies of the human form so perfectly designed, that at one point it was all I could care to have.

Oriya, in the days when we first met, had asked me once, why had I so many dolls? Were I not a man?

My reply had been a short laugh as I selected yet another one from the current store we were in. I believe that doll has long since been discarded when her parts were no longer useful in the repair of my favorites. They always came first, after all.

Oriya had come up with a small excuse, tossing it between us before changing the subject to something more suiting to our current tastes. I still remember every word of the remark, however...

"Kazutaka... Perhaps the reason is because dolls do not leave."

He.. was slightly right. Dolls do not leave unless they are moved. And even then, you are most likely to find them in the place where they were left. They do not abandon you when they are most needed... at least not of their own will...and they cannot fight if you were to hold them close when they do not feel up to it. Dolls... are eternal in the right hands. Everlasting. Free from death and age... And yet, dolls have one flaw... one horrible flaw that make them so unappealing unless wrapped in the flesh of the living and kissed with breath and life.

Dolls. Do not love.

Frowning at this horrid realization, I reached forward, taking hold of my most precious doll. It was different from the rest in the fact that it was not dressed in the finery of a well-to-do female child at the turn of the century, but in a simple outfit of jeans and a matching jacket, and a shirt with the brightest shade of orange imaginable. Running my left hand through the soft, straw colored hair, I smiled, kissing it gently between those two emerald buttons while my fingers found a new resting place at the end of his shirt. Lifting it up, I peered beneath, delighting in the fact that the curse marks on this particular doll had still not faded. Setting it back on an empty shelf, I smiled yet again, whispering to it in a rather childish manner that seems all too normal to myself. "'soka dear, I brought you a friend. Such a fortunate find it was, rotting away in that horrid little junk store. He will need to be patched up, but I think you won't mind, will you? Aa. I thought not. Here."

The pouting doll did not move an inch, his glassy eyes staring straight ahead, slightly over my left shoulder. "Aa aa aa, Hisoka. You should look at your Master when he is talking to you. And after I brought Asato to come play. Tsk tsk."

I moved to place my newest edition next to the blonde child, smiling as the ragged Asato flopped down a little on the shelf in a perfect play of his counterpart. The suit he was dressed in was worn and in need of a few stitches... the hair was patched and falling loose.. and a few smudges of dirt lined his face and neck. But the main reason he had reminded me so much of Tsuzuki-san was the beautiful purple button of an eye on the left, and a stitched handkerchief tied lovingly over the right. "Just like my beloved had once been in life... Do you bear even his scars? No matter. I am able to make a few adjustments, my pet. Sleep well. Play nice with Hisoka and the others, my beloved." I smiled as my lips brushed over his messy hair, kissing him soundly on the forehead before turning to leave, shutting the room in total darkness.

Yes. Dolls cannot love... but..

..they do not leave either.