Summary: Story of the times between Tatsumi and Tsuzuki. What if a young Tatsumi met asylum committed Tsuzuki? A little AU and a slight change on the manner Tsuzuki died, and results of my recent obsession with T+T. Standard disclaimer apply.

Some basic definitions that regular people can just skip over.

nii-san: big brother

oji-san: uncle

sensei: doctor (in this context)

hahawe: Mother (formal)

chichi-ue: Father (formal)

The Patient in Ward 4 - Part I

Circa 1926

The air was stagnant, choked with astringents, disinfectants, death and insanity. There were panicked screams, cries of pain, and mindless laughter echoing down the sterile white hallways. Nurses and doctors, in angelic white, far too used to the disturbed dredges and misery of humanity, pushed around their rattling cart full of needles, stethoscopes and white pills, some hummed even as they calmly tranquilized a flailing patient or even attempted bloodletting in some others. If a patient made too much noise, there were medications that made them quiet, permanently.

Seiichirou's eyes were wide, taking in the sights and sounds as he was lead by his father's strong hands. The screaming and blood was slightly disturbing to his mind, but he was far too young to interpret the meaning behind blood and seen too much of his Father's works to be outright frightened.

Father was a surgeon, someone who put people's broken parts back together. Sometimes, it took sawing, or it took sewing. Sometimes, it took tears and terror. Whatever it was, Father always did what he thought was the best for his patients and saves them from the brinks of death.

It was that relentless drive to do what is right that made mother fall in love with father. Mother had a pierced lung as a result of an accident. The village healer said that she was to die within days. Father, a passing doctor at the time, managed to nurse her back to health. Like a valiant knight, father saved her. Then, before anyone from either side of the family could stop them, they eloped and married six years ago. Seiichirou was born only months later.

Seiichirou did not know how he came to know about this, other than he could sometime see and hear things in the shadows that others could not. His young mind, still too unformed, absorbed facts and details, never questioned the intent.

"As you can see, Tatsumi-sensei, we have over a hundred staff members and over three hundred beds," said nurse Rei proudly, taking the boy's attention back to the hospital. Nurse Rei was a squat looking young lady, black hair, red nails and red lips. She smelled heavily of perfume and antiseptics. "On the first floor we have emergency wing. The second floor, we have the maternity wing." She rattled off the different specialized areas of the hospital, telling everything from the lab room to the janitors break room. "And in the hillside behind the garden courtyard, we have the sanitarium. Isn't that where you're headed?"

Tatsumi-sensei, father to Seiichirou, was a tall man with Prussian blue eyes and almost whitish blond hair. He wore a dark black suede coat and a hat with jacket, black slacks, tweed shirt and a tie that was popular in the west. It was the easiest costume since he was trained and raised mostly in Europe. "Yes. Please take us there."

Nurse Rei quickly paced ahead, but had to slow down when she realized that the doctor took smaller, deliberate steps in order for his son to keep pace. When she waited, she gazed at the child. He was very serious boy, with that slight hint of arrogance, self-assurance and nonchalance befitting to a son of a surgeon. However, the child was only five year old and the sanitarium did contain some unstable patients who would enjoy strangling the life out of small helpless creatures.

"Are you sure it's...prudent to bring a child in here?" asked Rei.

Tatsumi-sensei walked past her. "You're not in a position to question me, Rei-san. Now, where is Muraki?"

Rei blushed, appropriately reprimanded for questioning a doctor's choices and more than a little frightened by the man's gaze "Of course. Right this way." Tatsumi sensei was notorious for having that aura of scariness as default. Taking another glance at the child, she could see that the scariness was rubbing off. The child did not have that characteristic dislike or fear of hospitals. Instead, he seemed fascinated by corners and shadows, as if he saw something that no others could see. Rei could not but feel little disturbed by the pair.

They walked past a garden courtyard where old folks milled around aimlessly in walkers and wheelchairs. It was late afternoon and Seiichirou gazed in wonder at the strange people in black suites holding charm papers. Those people in suites were always at hospitals, but hospital staff and patient did not seem to see them. And those people in suites did not seem to notice that Seiichirou could see them.

Mother said that they were...what was it...shinigami? Ghost people? Whatever they were, mother said that as long as Seiichirou doesn't approach them or try to talk to them, he will not be bothered. Seiichirou felt his father's grip tighten. Did father see them too? But father would never admit to such a thing. Seiichirou tossed his question out of his mind. If it was important enough, father would tell him.

They quickly passed the courtyard and into the office area of the sanitarium. The colors here were tainted with sepia and old photographs on the wall. Inside the largest office was another man who looked much like father. Both had the same silvery blonde hair and sharp facial features. When placed next to each other, they looked almost like twins. The only exception was that this new person had silver gray eyes while father had deep blue eyes.

"Ah. Yukitaka nii-san. It's been a while," said Tatsumi-sensei, reaching out for a handshake. "How is your wife, Miri?"

"She's breeding, on her fifth child and counting," said Yukitaka sarcastically. "Even when I haven't visited her bed in months." The tone was replaced by an artificial cheer when he saw the small child next to the man. "Oh! And this must be your precious Seiichirou."

"Ah. That's right. I thought it's time for you to meet him. Seiichirou. Say hello to Yukitaka Oji-san."

Seiichirou, at the urging of his father, stepped out of his father's shadow and reach forward for a handshake. "Pleased to meet you, sir. I'm Tatsumi Seiichirou. Please extend to me your courtesy."

"Well. What a delightfully polite child!" The doctor cooed, "I'm Muraki Yukitaka, but you may call me Yuki-Oji-san. You might not know this, but your father and I are cousins, through our mothers. Or, should I say, your grandmother and my grandmother are sisters," said Muraki-sensei, hunching down to look at the boy and grabbed hold of the boy's chin. "You have your father's scheming wickedness in your eyes."

Seiichirou recoiled immediately, more out of innate dislike of the comment than of fear. His expression barely changing.

"He's shy," mumbled Muraki-sensei. "Pity."

"Hardly," said Tatsumi-sensei, while he scooted his son back into the shadows of his coat. The boy was still very much attached to his parents and had yet to feel embarrassed for their intimate protection. "He's smart enough not to trust you."

"Your words wound me, Geniichirou!" said Muraki-sensei dramatically, holding a hand over his chest as if his soul was wounded. "Have you no heart for your dearest nii-san?"

"Are you going to let me anywhere near you with a scalpel?"

"Good heavens! No! You're too good of a surgeon and you don't like me enough."

"Then that's my answer," said Tatsumi-sensei dryly. "Now, pleasure or business first? Didn't you say you want my opinion on the patient in Ward Number four."

Muraki-sensei's eyes glowed with unquestionable hunger. "Let us indulge in pleasure first. I'm desperate for some intelligent shop talk," he said with a manic smile. "Want some tea? Geni? I've read your recent paper on optic nerve reconnectivity. What a fascinating topic, you must tell me of your discoveries."

The two doctors began a quiet but rapid conversation involving a lot of strange words, absorbed in exchanging information regarding their craft.

The five-year-old, though, was beginning to get bored of it after two minutes. Big people talk in a way that even he could not understand. Father only brought him because mother returned to her family for the annual religious rites and he couldn't very well leave a five-year-old home by himself. The gossipy neighbors would never let Tatsumi's wife hear the end of it.

"Chichi-ue, I'm going to explore," said Seiichirou. It was not a question.

Father nodded absently. "Yes. Come back when it's time," said Father distractedly. Muraki was entertaining him with the details of unusual and unique patients. Seiichirou was such a good child that Tatsumi-sensei knew that he need not keep an eye on him. He barely noticed his son slipping out.

Now given complete freedom, Seiichirou wandered the hallways. He was careful to keep telling himself that he did not want to be seen, a trick that he learned while almost getting caught for sampling the neighbor's rice pot. He learned recently that when he wanted it, people do not to see him. It was a great way to evade playground bullies and go into places adults said that he could not go. All in all, it works pretty well, as long as it is not completely dark or completely bright. What he did learn the hard way was that his parents were not immune to his tricks. Mother had caught him one night, sneaking treats to bed. He earned himself some quality time with the wall and his own shadow.

Down the hallway he went, looking through half closed doors and hearing desperate shrieks that ended abruptly and gibbering nonsense. It seemed that his wish was working. The nurses walked by him, turning momentarily only to see a wavering shadow caused by a flickering light bulb. There were doctors too, old with that characteristic seriousness about them. Doctor looked at Seiichirou's way far more often, but even they thought of him as a trick of the setting afternoon sun.

Seiichirou did not mind the lack of attention. He was actually thrilled by the unknown, excited by wonders of discovery. If only there were less of those ghost people, he might feel more of that thrill.

Ghost people were strange. There were those with hair in front of their faces, hanging around darken corners and closets. There were several others too, spinning at the end of an imaginary rope, twitching hopelessly on the floor or even in pools of dark water. Shinigamis did not look so much like ghost people, but they had similar auras.

All of them ignored Seiichirou as if he did not exist.

It was just as well. He wanted to explore in peace.

The first place he went to was the courtyard. He meandered in the heavily flowered garden, straying away from the main path. He mentally imagined himself to be some type of early explorer discovering the fable Eden. And like a loving son, he imagined himself bringing back treasures for his beloved parents, particularly his adored mother.

It did not take long before he found a shiny rock for father. Seiichirou's heart soared at the thought of his father's praise.

Mother was a trickier. Mother was female and therefore, automatically complicated and difficult to please. Things like a pretty rock or a neat lady bug would not do. Mother liked soft and pretty things like her florid kimonos or brilliant ribbons. Eventually, Seiichirou settled on a safe gift, flowers.

It took some time to select the right blooms in the hospital garden. Roses were nice, but they had prickly thorns to cut his fingers if he was not careful. Water lilies meant getting his feet wet and he was not about to explain his squeaky shoes. He personally liked yellow flowers like chrysanthemum or sunflowers, but those flowers were too top heavy and tend to droop after being picked.

Finally, he saw them, pretty little blue flowers that could have been mistaken for weeds. They were called myosotis, or forget-me-nots. His mother had once professed that these tiny simple blue flowers were her favorites. Seiichirou smiled as he harvested a handful, driven by the imagines of a smile gracing his mother's sullen face.

Now he has the flowers, he was in a new dilemma. He needed something to put them in. Neatness was important matter in the Tatsumi house. With flowers in hand, he went back to his silent exploring and it did not take long before he found an unused glass vase in one of the empty rooms.

Satisfied with his work, Seiichirou hugged the vase, pleased with himself for being so thoughtful. Now he was ready to go back to his father.

On his way back though, he passed by a particularly dark hall. Unlike the rest of the hospital, no light bulb shone and everything was lit by candle. There was soft padding on the walls and no desperate shrieks or incoherent gibberish. It was quiet but lacked the amount of dust characteristic of an abandoned area.

And the shadows themselves seemed to whisper many strange things about things at the end of the hall. Things that made Seiichirou more curious than afraid.

Spying a lit kerosene lamp left on a convenient cushioned bench, Seiichirou decided to go down that hall with a vase in one hand and the lamp on the other. Wobbling slightly, as he was still small and his material burden were heavy for a child, Seiichirou set fearlessly down the dark hall.

The hall ended with a door that reads 'Ward No. 4.'

Seiichirou stared, his sense reeling. There was something in there...something breathing but not exactly alive.

First, he rapped on the door gently three times. When there was no answer, he reached for the handle.

It was locked.

Seiichirou made a face at it and stood really close to it until his shadows made contact with the keyhole.

The door clicked and suddenly swung open soundlessly. It was very dark, cold and small inside. The room was padded, with only a bed in the corner, a sink at another, a dull white cabinet at the third corner and two small end tables next to the head and foot of the bed. Between the end tables was a chair. The floor itself was dirty linoleum, stained with dried blood. A couple of cockroaches skittered at his feet.

Seiichirou absorbed the scenery without comment. He had seen this sight before, in the many other hospitals that father inspected. In fact, there was something on the bed...something that seemed abandoned.

In his intense curiosity, Seiichirou unconsciously relaxed that tightness that he kept around his mind. Immediately, the many shadows in the room rolled around like a wave, responding to him and the kerosene lamp light. With a child's nimbleness, Seiichirou managed to climb up on the chair, placed the kerosene lamp at the end table near the foot of the bed and the flowers on the other. He leaned over to take a look at the lump on the bed.

On the bed was a man on his back, his arms laid straight on his side. He was only covered up to his waist with a thin sheet. His skin was plaid but still touched with the pink of life and the coldness of a corpse. His breath shallow but quick enough to indicate his wakefulness. One of his eyes was bandaged, but his other eye, open and unseeing.

Seiichirou felt a profound sympathy tug at his heart strings. The man had a comely face though rather sad. With an urge to get a better look at those eyes, Seiichirou reached over with his childish fingers and brush away those messy dark brown bangs. The hair was soft. The one visible eye was pretty, a fierce violet color, full of self guilt and sadness.

Seiichirou immediately frowned. That face reminded him of his mother's sorrowful expression with sad eyes constantly obscured by her luxurious hair. There were just so many similarities. His mother's face and this stranger's face were both soft, delicate, young, hurt, not quite innocent nor quite wicked. Even to the manner they wore their clothes, thin multi layered clothes loose about the shoulders, revealing tender skin around the neck and collarbone. Their flesh always seemed too chilly to the touch. Only difference was that mother was a female and this person was a male.

"Why are you here nii-san?" Seiichirou asked gently, feeling that not so unfamiliar urge to comfort this stranger. Unconsciously, the shadows had gathered around this prostrated patient, covering and softly touching young man like a mother would cradle her child.

Perhaps it was the shadows. Perhaps it was the first time that a child had ever entered this godforsaken room. But the man blinked and singular visible eye focused.

Seiichirou felt his heart quicken and his shadows retreating back to himself. This was an uncertain moment.

There was no sudden movement. Instead, the patient only rolled his head slightly to take a better look at the person who had so ruthlessly dragged him out of that internal storm.

There was confusion reflect in that one visible violet orb.

"Who are you...?" The man said, his voice a hoarse whisper as if he had not talked in years.

"I'm...Sei," the boy said, feeling that a simple name might be best than trying to introduce him to his full name. "Who are you?"

My name is...Tsuzuki...Tsuzuki Asato...

"Asato," Tsuzuki finally gave. He blinked as if still dazed. He struggled to sit up for a better view, trying to see if he really was not dreaming. There was an ambiance here. It was not completely bright like the times when the doctor was in here nor completely dark when they left him alone. Most of all, there was heat and light. How long was he here? Where was....

"Asato nii-san, why are you here? Are you sick?" Seiichirou asked, distracting the man from spiraling back into his own mind.

"I'm....," Asato began, but did not finish. Instead, a tear fell down his cheek as memories upon memories came back in rapid succession of brutal images. The people he killed. The family he sacrificed. The one lover whom he killed. They left him. They all abandoned and forgotten him. All that was left were their incriminating bloodied faces, looking at him, disappointed, angry and disgusted, their blood still fresh as he had only killed them yesterday.

Seiichirou's expression was one of discomfort. He did not like to see tears. It reminded him of how often his mother would inexplicably be reduced to a sobbing mess and very few things would bring her out of her own mental hell. One time, he had became so distressed that he could not stop her crying that even he started crying too. The entire ordeal eventually involved a knife that resulted in a lot of blood and watching father stitch mother's fragile wrist back together. Seiichirou was left extremely shaken by the event and he promised himself no matter how devastated he felt on the inside, he would never cry again; he would always be the strength his mother needs.

Seiichirou still wanted to stop this stranger's tears though. An idea popped into his head as he quickly stuck the newly harvested bouquet of tiny blue flowers in a vase to him.

The affect was immediate. Tsuzuki blinked at the flowers present in front of his face, not sure what to do with them.

"Here. This is for you, nii-san," Seiichirou said. "A present, to cheer you up. So please do not cry."

Tsuzuki awkwardly accepted the vase. The blue flowers were fresh and his vision was still rather blurry. "Myosotis," Asato said in recognition. He touched the petals, fingering the texture and shape and dully going through a metal index of flowers. "Forget-me-nots."

"Wow. You know what they are!" The boy was pleased. "These are hahawe's favorite flowers. I tell her that they do not match her eyes, but she says that they remind her that all her memories are important and that her precious person is the reason she still lives."

"I do not wish to remember," Asato admitted as he stared at the flowers. His own inner demon showing him how he trimmed the buds of a flower as an allusion to his evil needs. "I do not even wish to be alive..."

Tsuzuki almost jumped as he felt a hesitant sleeve brushing against his cheeks, wiping away his tears. "It's going to be alright, nii-san. I promise you." Even more surprising, he felt a light reassuring kiss on his forehead and tiny fingers combing his hair. The touch was light and foreign. Very few had ever touched him so kindly.

In all reality, Seiichirou felt his heart pound madly as he observed the blank look on nii-san's face. Those gestures were the same ones he had used to gain a measure of calm over his own mother. Sometimes, it worked. Sometimes, it backfired. Sometimes, nothing changed.

From the looks on nii-san's face, it was the last and most common of the three reactions. Nothing had changed. In one last desperate attempt, Seiichirou covered nii-san's hands with his own. "Asato Ni-san. I pray that you'll receive your heart's desires. I pray that everything will be alright, that you will know peace and that you will smile again."

The child's voice was sincere and heartfelt. The shadows in the room flickered only once as if a breeze went through the room.

"I am very tired," Tsuzuki suddenly whispered to himself. It was strange. He suddenly felt as if someone had pulled a veil over his head. A light airy gossamer, not the suffocating embrace of drugs; the sensation was much like dreaming. The room seemed to be shifting, dark corners seemed darker.

He placed the vase on the end table next to his pillow and focused on the wall. The contrast of the bed post shadow seemed to be stirring like willows in the wind. His terrible memories were still there, but they were dull and his emotional distress seemed to wane. He could only think of one thing. "I haven't slept in..." he trailed off. How long since he slept? Why did he stay awake? Was it to keep that terrifying demon child at bay? Will there not be anyone else there to help him? "I do not want to go to sleep alone..."

"But you aren't alone," Seiichirou stated, apprehensive relief in his voice, glad that the prayer worked. "I'm here. Why don't you go to sleep nii-san? I'll be here to keep you company."

Tsuzuki nodded listlessly. "Alright."

Seiichirou watched the patient settled himself back into the bed, singular violet eye closing but his breathing wasn't regular enough to be asleep. A little anxious, Seiichirou began to stroke the man's hair, raking his tiny fingers across his scalp.

It took a long time, but nii-san's breathing finally deepened to one of blissful sleep.

Seiichirou, tired from his adventure and effort to calm this person, decided that a short nap was in order for a boy who worked so hard. He eventually laid himself against nii-san chest because it was slightly cold in the room. The man's slow but rhythmic heart beat lulled the boy to sleep.

Written 1-11-10

Revision A: 1-12-10 : Thanks to Lady Bellatrix for pointing out the errors.