Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Yami no Matsuei, thank you very much.

Note: So... this came as a surprise, but this is the last chapter for the trilogy. I know, I know, I'm sorry. I didn't tell you guys, but it's because I didn't know! It just kind've... wrapped up... sorry? Hope you enjoy, at least. :-)

That's What Love Is For

The Stronger the Breeze, The Stronger the Trees

The church crashed around them piece by piece, and Tsuzuki jumped out of his horror in time to grab Hisoka and shift them out of the building. As soon as the fresh air hit Hisoka's lungs, he started coughing up a storm, as if he'd been able to somehow ignore the smoke during the battle. He tried to grab onto Tsuzuki's arm. His hands both went straight through.

"Hisoka. Hisoka!" Tsuzuki's hands were all over him, touching his chest, his stomach, then carefully picking up each arm and studying, as if researching, his lost hands. The Shinigami's fingers shook.

Tsuzuki's skin and clothes were covered with soot, just as Hisoka assumed his were. The smudges turned Tsuzuki's hair black, his cheeks gray. His eyes, however, still glowed their unnatural violet, and the terror in them burned through the monochrome.

"Hisoka, how... what..." And before Hisoka could get his breath back enough to respond – just why the hell wasn't Tsuzuki hacking, too? – tears streaked paths through the soot on Tsuzuki's cheeks. "I failed. I..."

"Tsuzuki," Hisoka tried, but he started coughing again.

Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around Hisoka and buried his face in Hisoka's hair. "Oh, God – I've lost you... Hisoka..."

He tried to speak, tried to comfort, but every moment not coughing was spent breathing. The world starting spinning and fuzzing.

The church behind them popped in the mouth of the fire, and alarms could be heard wailing closer and closer. The living were trying to clean up the mess the dead had created. Hisoka didn't bother to move, knowing they couldn't be seen. As soon as he felt he could breathe more easily, he leaned into Tsuzuki's embrace. His scars no longer burned and glowed, but they still outlined his body. He'd failed in killing Muraki. In taking the duty and pain off of Tsuzuki. He struggled to hold back his own tears. Where... where would Tsuzuki live now?

The alarms came closer, stopped. The fire department had arrived. How useless. The fire would be burned out, the church would be renovated, and Tsuzuki...

Hisoka could no longer stop his tears, Feeling Tsuzuki's anguish and pain lapping at his own. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to die. He couldn't let this happen. But what more could he do? He'd failed. He'd failed, and...

Hisoka turned his head at the sound of his name. It had come from his left, far from the sounds of fire fighters shouting orders to one another. Who...?

"Boyo!"

Now even Tsuzuki heard, and he leaned up, turning to the sound. In one quick movement Tsuzuki was on his feet, lifting Hisoka without his expressed permission. He yelped and tried futilely to grab onto Tsuzuki's shirt. His tears turned into those of frustration at the uselessness of it.

Tsuzuki turned them both to Watari, who was coming at them full-speed, 003 flying just in front of him. Tatsumi ran by Watari's side.

"Tatsumi," Tsuzuki choked, and suddenly his voice was full of hope. "Tatsumi!"

Tsuzuki's panicked tone instantly pulled the two into an even faster run, and the two were quickly by their sides. "Tsuzuki, what happened?" Tatsumi's gaze slid immediately to Hisoka, still dangling stupidly in Tsuzuki's arms. His eyes caught on Hisoka's hands and a grim look pulled on his face. "We're out of time."

"Please," Tsuzuki pleaded, "please tell me you have the cure. Please..." Tsuzuki's emotions wrapped around Hisoka, almost taking away his breath. The world fuzzed again, and Tatsumi seemed to tilt.

"Whoa, boyo." Watari caught him when he almost rolled out of Tsuzuki's desperate grip. "You have to hold on for a while longer. I have the cure, but it's back in Meifu. I didn't want to bring it to a fight..."

"He got away," Tsuzuki said, his voice tight. His grip, if possible, tightened still more. Hisoka didn't mind the pain of it; it helped his eyesight clear. "I failed. Tatsumi..."

"Let's get you all back." Tatsumi took Hisoka from Tsuzuki's arms, though being held by Tatsumi made Hisoka's defensive guards raise. That, too, helped his concentration, even if he wanted to fight against the grip. Tsuzuki, he knew, was too tired from the fight to carry them both back.

It was as they were transporting back to Meifu that Hisoka's scars began to burn with a very familiar, very old fire. He screamed.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki, exhausted as Hisoka could Feel he was, rushed to Hisoka's side. "Hisoka, what's – Oh, Enma." Tsuzuki gently touched where Hisoka's shoulder should have been, but Hisoka couldn't feel anything. "Hisoka, hold on. Don't..."

Tatsumi must have started running, because Hisoka felt his hair whip his face suddenly. Tatsumi started barking out orders, and Hisoka heard, as if from a great distance, even Terazuma promptly obey. He only realized he was still screaming when he had to pause to take a breath.

"Boyo, hold on," Watari called, and Hisoka was vaguely aware of them slowing down. His scars felt as if they were once more being torn into his skin.

"Hisoka, please," Tsuzuki pleaded, but other than the waves of guilt and self-hatred and fear, Hisoka couldn't really Feel anything. He focused on Tsuzuki's presence beside Tatsumi and let that be his anchor.

Then they were moving again, and Hisoka was being placed on a cold, hard surface, one he recognized as one of Watari's lab tables. "Sorry," Hisoka gritted out, and reached for Tsuzuki, trying to soothe. Forgetting that he had no hand. He Felt a new wave of pain from Tsuzuki as he misunderstood Hisoka's intentions, thinking Hisoka wanted comfort. Assuming his inability to grab Hisoka's hand was a failing of his own.

"Reserve your strength, Kurosaki," Tatsumi ordered. Hisoka heard clinking noises and shivered, remembering other times he'd been unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of Watari's creations before. He tried not to think about those disasters.

"Hisoka – Hisoka, hold on." Tsuzuki came to his side and placed his face in Hisoka's sight. It helped stabilize him when the world turned into pastel fuzz once more. This time his eyesight didn't clear, even when Tsuzuki touched his cheek. "Hisoka?"

"Give me the damn drug," Hisoka gritted, just as another sharp stab swept through his scars, up his arms and down his chest. His heart skittered as the heat swept along the marks across his breasts. "Ah!" He lurched on the table, and Tatsumi and Tsuzuki had to grab him to keep him from falling.

"Hisoka!"

"Kurosaki!"

"Boyo, what's happening?" Watari went to stand next to Tatsumi, something sickeningly puke-green and gelatinous in a bottle in his hands.

"How..." Hisoka bit his tongue as the next flare swept down his legs. "How is that the cure?"

"I changed it into this to make it work faster!" Watari quipped, and his voice, at that moment, grated on the tension in the air. Everyone seemed too confused to react at first. Tatsumi, of course, was the one to pull them back.

"Watari, we have very little time left."

"Oh! Right, of course. Here, boyo. Lift his shirt, Tsuzuki."

Watari leaned over, the bottle tilted in his hand as if he was about to spill it on Hisoka's chest. Hisoka, even there on his death bed, had a bad feeling. Then the pain sank into his nerves and burned every scar all at once, and he could only care about the agony of it.

Tsuzuki was infinitely gentle taking off Hisoka's shirt, but he still hurried and it probably wouldn't have mattered, anyway. Hisoka bit his lip this time, ready for the flash of lightning to scorch through him. He tasted blood.

Tsuzuki saw the blood on Hisoka's lip as soon as he removed the shirt, and he immediately apologized. Hisoka turned his head and glared, but Tsuzuki misunderstood it, as well. Hisoka wished, more than he'd ever thought he would, that he could touch Tsuzuki.

"Tsuzuki, look."

Watari's serious tone turned Tsuzuki's attention to Hisoka's chest, where Watari's golden eyes were trained. "What...?" And Tsuzuki carefully traced one of the scars on Hisoka's stomach.

Hisoka screeched and pulled away from the touch, so far that he almost fell again. Tsuzuki pulled his hand back as if burned.

"All right, Kurosaki. Calm down. Watari, what is it?"

"I don't know. I think..." But Watari shook his head – or Hisoka thought he did – and carefully tipped the bottle. "Now, boyo, no matter what happens, I need you to stay still. Okay?"

Stay still? With this pain? He bit his lip again and steeled himself. If it was to live, he would do anything. He sought out Tsuzuki, and when their eyes met, he nodded.

Watari needed no further urging. An indescribable pain hit his wrists just before Watari's liquid-like cure touched his skin. He bit his lip until the blood slipped down the side of his jaw. Tsuzuki's emotions spiked at the sight, feeding off of Hisoka's pain, multiplying it. And the fire on his wrists traced his scars upward, to his elbows. Watari's tongue stuck out as he led his concoction over Hisoka's stomach.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki murmured, and Hisoka focused once more on Tsuzuki's gaze. It was so strange – no matter how bad his eyesight got, he could still find those purple eyes. His vision blurred even more, however, as the burn reached his shoulders. Why? Why could he feel this when he couldn't even see his right hand, when his arms were so faded as to be ghost-like? What was this suffering he had to endure? Why were his scars hurting so damn much? Had Muraki... done something to him? Before he'd run off?

Hisoka's breath hitched. No.

"Boyo," Watari said, his voice trying to reprimand but unable to, knowing the pain Hisoka must be in. Nonetheless, it worked. Hisoka clamped harder on his bottom lip and held his breath until he was certain he was once more under control.

Hisoka could hardly feel the cool liquid on his skin, his attention trapped on the lines of lava. His heart raced faster and faster as it neared his chest.

He almost jumped when the lava poured into the scars on his ankles.

"Hold on, Hisok-ah!" Tsuzuki's gasp pulled Hisoka's attention, and Tsuzuki grasped his injured arm, the one Muraki had injured. At least Tsuzuki would be physically healed, if nothing else. Hisoka wanted Tsuzuki in as little pain as possible.

The pain ran up to his knees.

"Just a little longer, boyo, and then we can get this active. Okay?" Watari looked up for a second to see Hisoka's reaction, but all he could do was nod dumbly and grind his teeth into the open wound on his lip. The taste of melted copper sang on his tongue. Tears of pain made Tsuzuki swim once more in Hisoka's gaze. He blinked to try to get them out. Tsuzuki, seeing his struggle, got rid of them with a finger. It only made Hisoka's eyes tear up all over again.

He had to live.

"His other arm is gone," Tatsumi said quietly, his voice hushed yet firm. Distancing. Tatsumi was distancing himself from the situation. For the first time, Hisoka Felt Tatsumi's emotions, trapped like icicles in his chest. He was scared, too.

"Hisoka, please hold on. Please – I'm sorry." Tsuzuki touched Hisoka's cheek. "I'm sorry I went and fought Muraki – sorry that I didn't trust in our friends. I shouldn't have – I should've listened to you, and I didn't and now..." Tsuzuki's tears were quick and unabashed. "I'm so sorry, Hisoka, I shouldn't have..."

The pain slid up to his thighs, and Watari gasped.

"Watari, don't you dare tell me you messed up." It was Tatsumi again, his lips barely moving to form the words. Hisoka couldn't turn his attention to him, couldn't break away from Tsuzuki, but it almost sounded as if Tatsumi was angry.

"Of course I didn't," Watari said, but his voice seemed almost glazed. "Boyo, I think..."

"Just hurry the fuck up," Hisoka snapped. Watari pursed his lips, but he bent back over and continued his work.

Tsuzuki hovered by Hisoka's side, but the closeness gave comfort. The pain was chiseling into his chest, around his groin, and the effort to say nothing was exhausting him. If it weren't for the agony, Hisoka knew he would be unconscious.

"Okay, boyo, we're almost ready."

Hisoka wanted to point out that Watari had already said that, but apparently it was nothing doing. Tsuzuki wiped Hisoka's bangs from his face, and only then did Hisoka realize just how damp they were. Just how much he was sweating. His lip was numb now, and he couldn't feel the pain anymore. His eyesight was patching, until all he saw were colors. He looked for the purple of Tsuzuki's eyes and panicked when he couldn't see them.

"Hold on," someone said, but this time Hisoka couldn't be sure if it was Watari or Tatsumi or-

"Just hold on, 'Soka."

Ah. Tsuzuki.

The hand returned, a cool, gentle touch. Hisoka mindlessly leaned into it. The pain swelled as it neared his heart, and his lungs burned every time he breathed. He whimpered.

"Hold on," Tsuzuki said again, and it became a mantra, repeated every other second.

"There!" Watari shouted. Hisoka was too tired to jump from surprise.

"Hurry," Tatsumi ordered.

"I am, I am." Watari must have done something, or moved, because Tsuzuki's hold on was a little late. "By Enma," Watari murmured. "Tatsumi, look."

The pain cycled into his stomach, on his belly until it caught fire. Then he screamed. Tsuzuki's quick grab stopped him from bucking.

It had reached his heart.

The burn raced up his stomach, up and up, until he couldn't breathe. His scream cut off, but his flailing only increased. Despite everyone's efforts – despite his own efforts – his back arched, and vaguely Hisoka felt the liquid Watari had painstakingly applied go sliding off his body. And then the fire wrapped around his heart and he could only struggle to scream again.

"Hisoka!"

"Tatsumi, isn't this – I mean, I think..."

"Just hold him down for now," Tatsumi said, his voice tight.

Hisoka couldn't breathe. He stopped trying to scream and attempted to grab his chest. His arms wouldn't move – they weren't there, he remembered vaguely, and felt tears run down the sides of his face. He was dying. He was going to die, and he was going to leave Tsuzuki without a place to live. The heart that was so important to Tsuzuki...

Helplessly he bucked and shook on the table, opening his mouth for air that never came as the flames inside him roared and snarled and devoured. His heart beat faster than a bird's, faster than light.

And then it stopped.

Hisoka slumped limp to the table.

"Hisoka!"

Tsuzuki's scream echoed off the walls, and his hands gripped Hisoka's face, cupping his cheeks. His breath caught on his throat as he tried to speak again. Watari made a strangled noise, one that made Tatsumi place his hand on the blond's shoulder.

"Hisoka, no! Don't do this to me! Don't – don't..." Tsuzuki's hands slid from the boy's face, and he grabbed the side of the table as he fell to his knees. "You can't... Hisoka..."

"Tsuzuki," Tatsumi started, but there was nothing to say, and he fell quiet again.

"Tatsumi... oh, Tatsumi – Tsuzuki – look. Is that...?"

And as Tsuzuki lifted his head, the angry, red marks on Hisoka's skin faded away.

Even though it meant the end, Tsuzuki was happy, for that short instant, that Hisoka was free from that man's hold. He lightly touched Hisoka's chest, just above his nipple, where the mark had disappeared. At least Muraki's hand was no longer on him.

He almost looked... at peace.

Maybe... maybe this was for the best? Maybe Hisoka's death was a good thing. Maybe...

Tsuzuki curled into himself. No. No matter what, he wanted Hisoka alive. Once the suffering was over, he'd wanted to be with Hisoka, to create happy memories with him. To have Hisoka's death bring the end of his suffering... it didn't seem fair. Shouldn't Hisoka be granted the chance for happiness?

He wanted Hisoka back.

He felt a heartbeat.

Beneath his palm, he distinctly felt the small thump of a heartbeat.

"Hisoka?" he breathed, afraid to hope. But as he watched, that small, pale chest lifted, just the tiniest bit, and fell again.

Tsuzuki shot to his feet and checked for a pulse with trembling fingers. "Hisoka? If you can hear me, please say something."

"Then this is all because..."

"That's right. Tatsumi, I think Muraki might be – you know – dead."

"That would explain the scars' disappearance."

Tsuzuki ignored them, not caring about the reason why for now. "Hisoka, please. Open your eyes."

There was definitely a pulse, but what did it mean? What had happened to Hisoka? Was he going to wake up?

"Ow."

The word was heaven. "Hisoka!" Tsuzuki crushed the boy into a hug.

"Ow, I said." Hisoka feebly struggled underneath Tsuzuki. "Your emotions hurt."

Tsuzuki tried to control them, really he did, but in the end he couldn't, so he opted to break contact with the boy. "How do you feel? What happened? Are you all right?"

Hisoka glared at him. "Are you going to let me answer, or are you just going to bark at me all day?"

Tsuzuki sat back and waited, his eyes wide and bright.

Hisoka's brow furrowed. He struggled into a sitting position and sat there for a moment, his eyes cast downward. At one point, he reached up to touch his head as if he had a headache, but grimaced and glared at his ghost-like arm. He looked back down at his legs. "I don't know what... happened..."

And Hisoka dropped like a stone back onto the table.

It wasn't as if he was unconscious. He just couldn't move.

He heard, for instance, the panicked shout Tsuzuki made as soon as he fell, and he felt the man's arm wrap underneath his neck. Tsuzuki's emotions were even more painful now than they'd been moments ago. At least then, there'd been relief, happiness. Joy. Now they were garbled in a mess of confusion and terror. They hurt.

Something must've happened – maybe he groaned, or maybe Tatsumi, always level-headed, had reminded Tsuzuki of what Hisoka had said earlier – but Tsuzuki's emotions wavered and then, like a switch had been thrown, Tsuzuki's emotions changed to love, concern, kindness. They were strong, just as strong as his fear, but it was as if a vice had been clamped around his negative emotions. Thank goodness.

He had no idea what the hell they were all doing, but someone cleaned up the shit Watari had put on him, and someone else washed the sweat off his face and forehead. Someone entered the room – it sounded like Wakaba – and someone lifted him. Hisoka recognized the feel of Tsuzuki surrounding him and smiled.

"What happened to his arms?"

"Is the kid all right?"

Terazuma? Hisoka wanted to say something to that one, but his body wouldn't respond.

Tsuzuki was the one to answer. "We don't know."

Wakaba gasped. If Terazuma said anything, Hisoka didn't hear it.

It was a while later before he heard anything else. The next thing he felt was the wind. Tsuzuki pulled him closer, protecting him from the cool air. He thought he smelled the sakura trees for a short time.

The wind was gone eventually, and Tsuzuki's footsteps banged instead of crunched. They were inside. No one was talking. The silence continued until a few minutes later, when Tsuzuki stopped and said quietly, "in my front pocket." And then a small scuffle occurred, and Hisoka was jostled a bit. Hisoka felt a sleeve brush against his head, one that wasn't Tsuzuki's. It soon left, and the sounds of a door being unlocked took its place. Tsuzuki was moving again, and a new brightness shone behind Hisoka's lids. Someone must have turned on lights.

The arms around him shifted, and he was placed on something cool. Everywhere the scent of Tsuzuki wrapped around him. Behind his head, something soft of fluffy and cool sank. Beneath him was an equally cool, equally soft feel. A bed. He took another breath and sighed. Tsuzuki's bed.

"Step back, Tsuzuki, and let me see." Watari's voice. Hisoka Felt a presence above him. Worry. Curiosity. Confusion.

"Shouldn't we get a doctor?" Tsuzuki asked, and fear seeped from him before he once again focused on love and camaraderie.

"This is linked to Kurosaki's curse. Watari knows about such things, and he's well versed in nursing. For now, he's the best person for the job."

Hisoka's body was probed. He wanted to pull away from it, to slap the hands away, but his body remained still. For the first time, Hisoka was troubled by the lack of response. He felt fear rise in his chest.

"I have to stop," Watari said, and he pulled his hand away. "I'm unnerving the boyo."

Tsuzuki immediately took up residence by Hisoka's side and brushed a hand through his hair. "Is he... all right? His arms..."

"Right now, the curse should be gone. I didn't cure it, but the scars are gone. I think he's safe, which means his body immediately went into an almost comatose state, just as it had before, when he'd had his soul attacked. Remember?" Tsuzuki must've nodded, because the blond continued. "But for whatever reason, it seems he isn't healing. I can only assume he's still conscious on some level, most likely for fear of falling asleep."

Tatsumi's voice, when he spoke, was quiet. "Is that possible?"

"I don't know." There was a strange snapping noise. "I can't check further without upsetting him further. Tsuzuki, could you...?"

"What do I need to do?"

Tsuzuki didn't hesitate. Hisoka felt bad; he was the one making Tsuzuki continue working even after the battle, even after he'd been injured. Simply because he couldn't trust another's hands on him.

"I need you to touch the areas his curse used to be, and the junctures at which his body becomes intangible."

"All right." Tsuzuki did as told, gently probing his chest, his stomach. Hisoka felt slightly uncomfortable, but it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling. Like having Tsuzuki wrap a wound, or having Tsuzuki hug him in public. Uncomfortable, but not unendurable. More embarrassing than anything else.

Those hands trailed down to his legs, and they lifted up Hisoka's pants until Tsuzuki could see his legs. There was a sharp hiss. "He's lost his other foot and ankle," Tsuzuki said, and Hisoka jerked involuntarily as the Shinigami's emotions spilled into him: pain and horror and worry. Tsuzuki let go of him for a moment and took several deep breaths. "Sorry about that, 'Soka." And he touched Hisoka's ankle, then his calf on his other leg. "What am I looking for here, Watari?"

"Any bumps, tears, or blood. It's pretty incredible, Tsuzuki. Despite your uselessness, the boyo really seems to trust you."

He's not useless. Just stupid.

Tsuzuki's hands moved to his shoulders, and this time the movements slowed to a crawl, then stopped completely. "Hisoka..." He took another deep breath, then slowly let it out. Hisoka felt it touch his face. "Nothing. There's nothing, Watari."

"That's good, at least. No bad effects, just the fading."

Tsuzuki's hands flinched against Hisoka's skin.

"He should be recovering, but he's not. I don't think there's any other explanation."

"Just that he's afraid," Tsuzuki whispered. His hands ghosted over Hisoka's hair again.

"That's right. He must be subconsciously concerned about falling into those cursed nightmares again. Poor boyo."

"You're sure that's it?" Tsuzuki asked again.

"Mm. Can't see anything else for it, and it makes sense. To recuperate, he needs to fall out of consciousness. It'll put his body's focuses fully on the task of recovery, and the only bodily functions to be monitored would be his heart and lungs, and then to make sure he woke in time for necessary fluids or foods. As soon as he collapsed, he should have started to recover. He hasn't."

Tsuzuki hummed. His emotions turned to determination, resolution. His heat neared, and the bed dipped drastically. In reaction to it, Hisoka's body turned slightly. Tsuzuki caught him and held him steady as he lied down beside him.

"Tsuzuki?" Watari asked. He sounded very intrigued.

"When we slept like this," Tsuzuki said, "he could sleep without the nightmares."

"Oh. Oh." Watari seemed to have thought something inappropriate; his emotions were falling deep into the side of lewd.

"All right, then. We will leave Kurosaki to you, Tsuzuki. Watari and I will write up the reports for you, but only this once. We must inform Chief Konoe about Muraki's potential death and send a team to investigate."

Hisoka heard their footsteps as they left, saw the brightness behind his lids disappear. Darkness fell around him, just as Tsuzuki's scent, stronger on the man than on his sheets, encased him. He sighed. A door closed.

"I'm here, Hisoka," Tsuzuki whispered. "I won't let anything happen to you. Rest. Regain your strength. Come back to me. Hisoka... I love you. I love you, 'Soka..."

A short rustle indicated the sweep of the covers before Hisoka felt them, and the warmth from Tsuzuki's body increased under the blanket. The last thing Hisoka felt was a kiss to his temple and Tsuzuki's arms wrapping around him.

"What have you found out?"

Hisoka snuggled instinctively closer to the rumbling warmth by his side. Something squeezed him tight, and he relaxed into the embrace.

"So far, all we know for sure is that he's definitely dead. As for his powers, abilities, even his knowledge..."

"Without the body, we can't be sure."

"Yes, and that Oriya fellow isn't giving it to us."

"For now, it's enough to know Hisoka's safe from him."

Hisoka stirred a bit at his name.

"How is he?"

It was Tatsumi. That was enough to bring Hisoka to full consciousness. He didn't want to be vulnerable in Tatsumi's presence. Especially in Tsuzuki's bedroom.

He blushed furiously.

"He hasn't woken up yet. I guess that's a good thing. He's... he's coming back. His feet are whole again, and his arms have returned. His fingers are still a little translucent, but I can touch them now."

Hisoka belatedly realized that, hidden under the covers, their fingers were most certainly entangled. He blushed again.

"And what about you? You haven't left that bed for longer than a few minutes at a time. It's been almost a week, Tsuzuki. You need to get out of there."

"I won't." Tsuzuki's voice was firm, but then it broke into a sad chuckle. "More to say, I can't." The arm around him tightened, and Hisoka Felt fear again before a strange tranquility settled over him. He found his muscles relaxing to it without conscious thought. "That's it," Tsuzuki cooed, and Hisoka was almost gone again. Then, "I almost lost him, Tatsumi. I... it was so close. Because I didn't trust you guys enough... I was afraid to wait, and Hisoka refused to let me go alone. I shouldn't have..." His grip tightened again. "I shouldn't have taken the chance, but I did. Hisoka didn't blame me for it."

"Tsuzuki..."

"I can't leave him, Tatsumi. I'm afraid..." And again the fear spiked for a short second, just enough for Hisoka to curl into Tsuzuki's body mindlessly, trying to comfort. Tsuzuki, he realized, was half-sitting up in the bed, propped by pillows. Hisoka, on the other hand, was using Tsuzuki's chest as his pillow. He blushed, but he still took a deep breath. Tsuzuki was wearing a shirt of some kind, and it moved as Hisoka did. "I'm afraid of leaving him alone – like he'll vanish if I'm gone for too long."

"Tsuzuki, Kurosaki has recovered for the most part-"

"I know." He laughed again. "Oh, I know, trust me. But still, I can't..."

Hisoka hummed. Tsuzuki tensed underneath him. "Stupid," he sighed. "Don't... even think about neglecting yourself... idiot..." He yawned and grumbled slightly.

"Hisoka..." The feeling of tranquility was usurped by pure joy. "Hisoka! You're awake!"

He grumbled again. "Will be if you keep shouting."

"Oh." But Tsuzuki's elation wasn't dimmed in the slightest. "Are you all right?"

"Humm. Sure."

"Do you...?" And Tsuzuki made to move away from him.

Hisoka clutched him tight. "No. Not yet. Leave later."

And Tsuzuki crawled underneath the covers, Tatsumi apparently forgotten. "All right."

Tatsumi humphed in humor. "I'll just be going."

"Thanks for coming by, Tatsumi."

Hisoka waited until the man was gone, then curled tighter into Tsuzuki's body. "You okay?"

"I healed a long time ago, Hisoka." Tsuzuki kissed the top of his head again.

Hisoka sighed. "Idiot." Finally he did open his eyes, just so he could look into those purple eyes. "Inside."

Tsuzuki blinked, then stared, far past what was necessary. "I'm so glad."

"Huh?"

"To see your eyes again. I'm so glad." And Tsuzuki crushed him into a hug.

Hisoka's hands were stuck in-between their bodies, but he didn't feel particularly concerned about it at the moment. It felt very good... to be alive. "What were the two of you talking about? Who died?"

Tsuzuki pulled Hisoka back and kissed his forehead, right between his eyes. "Muraki. Muraki's dead, Hisoka."

Hisoka blinked. "What? How?" He pushed Tsuzuki away and looked down at Tsuzuki's chest. The shirt he wore was his usual collared white, but it was unbuttoned and wrinkled, obviously not worn outside the room.

Then he panicked and stood.

"Hisoka – what-" Tsuzuki sat up and reached out for him, but Hisoka jumped out of reach, looking over himself.

He was wearing A pair of Tsuzuki's pajama pants, and if he paused long enough to realize that means he'd been stripped, most likely to be washed, he would have blushed once more. But his mind was on his bare chest and arms. His translucent fingers traced over his collarbone and chest, where lines should have snaked across his skin. His arms, too, were unblemished. "What – what is this? Tsuzuki – the scars..."

"They're gone." Tsuzuki pushed the covers back and scooted over to Hisoka's side before standing up. "While Watari put the marks on your torso to get rid of the curse, your curse marks were vanishing. We think that's why you were screaming, why you were in such pain. You... do you remember?"

Hisoka kept staring at his arm, disbelieving that situation. "I... I think I remember the pain. I remember trying to stay still, and a fire spreading up my... and then it grabbed my heart and I couldn't breathe." Hisoka grabbed his chest in remembrance. "And I remember your voice."

"My voice?"

Tsuzuki came up beside him as he nodded. "Yeah. You were saying to hold on, and then you were telling me it was all right. I remember..." Hisoka did blush then; he very distinctly remembered warmth and safety.

Tsuzuki reached out and touched Hisoka's arm, pulling it toward him. "It's gone." Tsuzuki traced a hand up Hisoka's arm, up to his shoulder, around his neck and down to his collarbone. "See? No red. It's gone." He released Hisoka's arm and turned to the bed to fix the covers Hisoka had thrown back in his haste. Hisoka took the chance to shiver. Tsuzuki's touch lingered on his skin. He had goosebumps. "Tatsumi sent a team to look for Muraki, and they went to Oriya's place. He confirmed Muraki's death, but refused to release the body."

"He's... really dead?"

"Yes. According to Oriya, he suffered a fatal stab wound." Tsuzuki straightened the covers and turned to him. "You did it, Hisoka. You got your revenge."

Hisoka could only stare. He couldn't believe it. It didn't feel real. Muraki was... dead?

That Muraki?

"You're free, Hisoka. You can leave now."

Hisoka froze.

Leave? Tsuzuki wanted him out of the man's house? It only made sense. He thought he'd heard Tatsumi say he'd been there for a week, or almost a week, or something around a week. In any case, it had been a while. And-

And then he realized what Tsuzuki was saying.

"Tatsumi said it when he first came in," Tsuzuki continued. "Since you stayed in the afterlife to find out about your death and get revenge for it, you're good. You can head on through the afterlife and can be reincarnated."

"What?"

Tsuzuki didn't look at him, but instead walked out of the room. Hisoka heard cupboards banging open and closed and realized Tsuzuki had retreated to the kitchen. He followed.

"You'll be reincarnated like any other soul, and you'll live freely on – Hisoka?"

Hisoka grabbed the collar on either side of Tsuzuki's shirt and pulled Tsuzuki down to his level. "I'm not going to be reincarnated."

"Eh?" Tsuzuki put down whatever the hell he'd grabbed from the cupboard and encircled Hisoka's wrists. He didn't do anything, simply held them. "Hisoka, you have no more reason to-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll shoot you." Hisoka still pulled with one hand while another traced its way to the nape of Tsuzuki's neck, his still-weak fingers wrapping themselves in Tsuzuki's hair. "I still have a reason to be here, idiot." And he leaned up onto his toes and kissed the moron.

Tsuzuki's arms slid from his wrists to his shoulders to his back and down to his hips, and Tsuzuki pulled him close, until their pelvises touched, and Hisoka groaned. Tsuzuki twisted his head. When Hisoka gasped at the new contact, Tsuzuki delved in for a deeper kiss, and suddenly Hisoka was no longer in control. Tsuzuki's tongue traveled across the expanse of Hisoka's mouth, along his lips, until finally it dueled with Hisoka's tongue. Hisoka, inept and inexperienced, quickly lost.

That was when Tsuzuki's actions slowed, when his hands played along Hisoka's waist until they rested on the front of his pants, his thumbs hooked underneath the elastic. Hisoka gasped at the heat pooling under his belly.

"I think," Tsuzuki said, releasing Hisoka's mouth and resting his head on the crook of the boy's neck and shoulder, making his body arch at the height difference, "We should stop."

"Hmm. Why?" Hisoka didn't stop at all, tugging at Tsuzuki's shirt and touching the man's chest in wonder.

"Ah – because you were – I mean, your experience-"

"Shut up." Hisoka took Tsuzuki's mouth again, and the older Shinigami groaned as Hisoka tried again to battle with his tongue. Tsuzuki stumbled back until his hip banged against the countertop.

Hisoka's fingers finally grabbed the shirt well enough to tug it off, and Hisoka, for once, just tossed it down and to the side. "Hisoka," Tsuzuki panted when Hisoka released his lips, but the boy only kissed his jaw and trailed down to the man's neck, doing so simply by placing his feet back down on the ground.

"What?" He had no idea what to do, but he followed instincts and nipped at Tsuzuki's throat. The dark shot of pleasure he Felt was enough to tell him he was on target.

"Hisoka, wait – wait." Tsuzuki grabbed Hisoka's shoulders and pushed him back. Hisoka almost snapped at him, but Tsuzuki's eyes were interestingly dark, almost black. The new color was beautiful. It distracted him. "You just woke up. You have... a past. And we..."

"Do you not want this?" Hisoka asked, already knowing the answer. He could Feel the strain Tsuzuki was putting on himself.

"Hisoka, we have," and here Tsuzuki chuckled, just realizing what he was saying as he said it, "we have plenty of time. We don't have to rush this."

"Enma, you're stupid." Hisoka gusted out a breath and rolled his eyes. "I'm not rushing anything." Though he blushed beet red, thinking about what he was about to say. "I just wanted it."

Tsuzuki laughed then, only making Hisoka's humiliation worse. "I want it, too, 'Soka."

Hisoka looked away, completely uncomfortable now.

Tsuzuki smiled down at him and ruffled his hair. Hisoka smacked the hand away. "Want some food?"

"Not if it's cooked by you."

"Aw, 'Soka! That's mean!"

"Here." Hisoka pushed him aside and looked at what he'd set out. "Whit rice?"

"I thought I'd make gumbo."

Hisoka snorted. "I don't think so. Leave that to me."

Tsuzuki stepped aside. "Are you all right? What can I do to help?"

"I'm fine, and you can stay out of my way."

"Aw, but 'Soka..."

Hisoka sighed and stopped before he opened the fridge. He was such a sucker. "Fine. You can cut the vegetables while I make the roux (1)."

"Okay!"

Hisoka had opened the fridge and grabbed the carrots before he realized the strange warmth curling in his chest. He touched his skin above his heart and paused. He felt good. Very good. Content. He looked over to Tsuzuki, who was humming as he grabbed his stupid, frilly apron. And he smiled.

"Hisoka!"

"Behind you, stupid!" Hisoka rolled and struggled to his feet. The pavement beneath him shook at the force of the wolf's landing. Tsuzuki dodged an attack of his own.

Two others fought Byakko, while another had already been downed by Tsuzuki's o-fuda magic and now lie, once again human, on the ground by Tsuzuki's left. Hisoka covered himself and Tsuzuki with a barrier and waited for his own wolf to turn to him.

"Hold on, 'Soka!" Tsuzuki abandoned Byakko for Hisoka's wolf, shouting at it as it turned to Hisoka. Its eyes were difficult to see in the dark, but the light of the full moon allowed those eyes to glitter, allowed the drool dripping from its mouth to sparkle as it fell to the ground. The curse mark on its hind leg shone green for a short second.

Then it lunged.

Hisoka stood his ground, his hands still locked together to hold the barrier still. Tsuzuki shouted and through a panel of sutras at the beast as its teeth sank into Hisoka's neck.

The teeth didn't stand a chance against the barrier. Hisoka could only guess that Tsuzuki's fear stemmed from the power of the creature's venom.

The wolf howled and pulled away from Hisoka. Tsuzuki took his usual place in front of his partner. "Hisoka! Are you all right?"

"Fine," Hisoka panted. He watched the wolf curve into itself, heard bones cracking and crackling. The woman, returned to her form, fell in a heap to the ground. "Go get the other two."

"Right." Tsuzuki left him then, returning to Byakko's side. With his o-fuda magic, he took out the last two, letting Byakko wear them out and hold them down.

"Well." Hisoka let the barriers fall only after both turned human and collapsed. "That was tedious."

"Haven't had a fight like that since Muraki."

Both paused at that, still not quite used to the idea of it, or of the man's death. Hisoka looked away. "It's only been a month."

"Mm." Tsuzuki looked at their unconscious victims. "I guess we'll have to take them to Meifu for their memories to be altered."

Hisoka shrugged. "I suppose." He looked around, as well, but his eyes were searching for anything they might have missed. "What a pain."

"Um, 'Soka?"

"Yeah." He turned back to Tsuzuki, just in time for the man's lips to crush down on his. "What was that for?"

"Because I love you." Tsuzuki beamed a bright smile at him, even as he stuck his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat.

"Jeez, you freaking perv." Hisoka wiped his mouth. "We're still working, idiot." He looked away, then glared out of the side of his eyes. "If you want to kiss me, wait until we're out of this situation. Moron."

"'Kay!" Tsuzuki chirped.

He was such a sucker.

He walked up to Tsuzuki and snatched his trenchcoat as the man turned to walk away. When Tsuzuki sent him a confused look, Hisoka leaned up on his tip-toes and pecked the man quickly on the side of his lips. "You, too," he mumbled.

Tsuzuki laughed and hugged him, snuggling, then let go and walked off just as Hisoka was about to yell at him.

Hisoka watched that trenchcoat swing in the breeze, watched that straight back head off. And he smiled.

"Tsuzuki," he said, and watched the man turn to him, surprised this time. Hisoka simply looked into those glittering eyes.

Tsuzuki, understanding, held out his hand and smiled. With a half-hearted grumble, Hisoka stalked forward and reached out, grabbing the hand. Without a word, they headed to the first body, their hands still entwined.

(1) 'Roux' means gravy, sort of, and is usually what people first work on when making gumbo, according the the Internet. (It's best if I don't cook, you see.)

Oh, my. It's over. Just like that. O_O Well, I hope everyone's enjoyed this trilogy, and thank you to everyone who's devotedly followed the storyline. Especially those who have reviewed! You all are the reason this story finished, and why it's done so quickly. I love you all. And now, it's time for both this story and me to bow out.