Disclaimer: The characters of Yami no Matsuei belong to their author, Yoko Matsushita. Thus, I do not own any of these. This is purely a piece of fanfiction.

Writer's notes: My first fanfiction in English, and my second in total. English is not my mother tongue, so despite all my efforts with a dictionary and nine years of studying, my grammar might be wanting to say the least. Please feel free to provide me with any suggestions or corrections. I feed on constructive criticism .

Aw, crap. Why does this always happen to me? Whenever I'm trying to be smart and think lightyears ahead, I still fuck up. Crap, crap, crap. I would definitely say 'I'm gonna die' if I wasn't dead already. I wonder if you can die twice...? Man, I hate myself even more than I hate him!

Yes, Tsuzuki was in a mess of a lifetime. Lifetime? More like deathtime in his case. The white tiger casting a maleficent shadow over him chuckled and ran his icy claws along the front of Tsuzuki's flashy uniform. "Go ahead and take your precious time, Tsuzuki-san. One should always give enough time to consider a proposition, isn't that right?" Muraki asked him, smiling.

Tsuzuki's body had gone to overdrive mode; he was shaking and turning more crimson by the minute. A card game wouldn't be that bad, would it? At least it wasn't Russian roulette... though that would have hardly mattered in case of a Shinigami. Tsuzuki usually had good luck when it counted, sometimes his luck was, in fact, the only good trait others recognized in him. But... he had to face it now. 50 chance of getting raped, probably the most gruesome and painful way one could ever imagine, reminded him of his partner's unforgivable fate. Tsuzuki was really angry, but he was in no position to lose his temper. You never know what a murdered would do.

Think, Asato, think. Stall him somehow so that Hisoka can come to your rescue. The boy was his last straw right now, though he had no idea if Hisoka would, or could, help him out. Tsuzuki was sweating under his uniform, and the musky cologne his harasser was wearing didn't make the situation any easier. "You know, Tsuzuki-san, I know a way to relieve you from this... sultry situation", Muraki suggested in an amused tone and slid his pale fingers up Tsuzuki's neck. The amethyst-eyed Shinigami was very aware of his pulse heightening under those fingers that could, at the worst, feel his pulse in much more intimate places--

Then the solution struck him like a bolt of lightning. As his frightened mind was wandering to all his fellow Shinigami, who were probably completely oblivious of his agony, Tsuzuki remembered a rather risque variation of poker he had tried out with Watari once. The result had been him in his undies only and Watari without anything under that lab coat when Tatsumi had found the two players in the break room one boring Thursday night. His face was priceless when he asked us for how long we were going to continue that... lubricity. That's it! Strip poker would take enough time with only one garment being taken off at a time. You're a genius, Asato.

"W-wait a second! What if we change the rules a bit, Muraki?" Tsuzuki finally managed to exclaim and knock off the large hand that was unbuttoning his shirt unnoticed. Muraki sneered at the Shinigami's sudden perkiness and rubbed his chin in thought. "So you don't want the information I'm offering you? How regrettable", he sighed, but he didn't loosen the steely gaze off Tsuzuki's amethyst eyes. "I'm game all right! I want us to play strip poker instead. One hand wouldn't be fair for either of us", Tsuzuki stuttered, trying to avoid the doctor's touch or eyes, though with failure. Apparently the word 'strip' made the doctor's left eye gleam with passion as the man took one step closer to Tsuzuki and cupped his chin. "A naughty one, aren't you? Very well", he yielded, "such a game we shall have. How delightful of you to only prolong my pleasure by such teasing."

Tsuzuki was really wondering how such a luxury liner didn't seem to have any kind of air conditioning. It felt like he would melt away any minute when sitting in a red velvet chair facing his opponent. They were alone in a private cabinet, without a dealer. Tsuzuki had insisted that the young woman took her leave: even though she was sort of cute, the Shinigami didn't really want to embarrass himself any more than he would be after a couple of hands.

Just as the air was getting heavier, Muraki leaned a little over the board and looked him straight in the eye. "Mind if I smoke, my dear? I have to, when I'm nervous such as now... in front of such beauty and more to come", he said and put his hand into his pocket, reaching for a lighter. Nervous? Muraki? My ass. Tsuzuki couldn't stand being around smokers anymore – that was actually one of the reasons why he disliked Terazuma so much – but somehow he knew his words wouldn't stop the doctor. "I don't care what you do. "I just want to start this fucking game", the brunette spat and shuffled the deck the dealer had given him. He heard the doctor chuckling quietly to himself as the lighter flicked and a strand of smoke filled the air. "Indeed. I trust you won't cheat, Tsuzuki-san?" Muraki whispered as he took a deep breath from the cigarette. Tsuzuki made an angry glance at him and dealt the cards swiftly, yet with precision. His eyes caught the pack of red Marlboro still lying on the table. Such a snob, he is. Gods, I hope Hisoka realises I'm in deep shit.

Thank you for reading the first chapter of Russian Roulette! All comments and criticism are accepted and greatly appreciated.