Ardent

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Yami no Matsuei characters.

Did a little bit of editing, even though everyone seems to have lost interest in the story :(


Chapter 8

Tsuzuki blinked, taking in the sight before him. Muraki’s consort was standing before him; flaxen hair softly framed his satin complexion and the green eyes that held Tsuzuki in his place was stern and cool.

“I take it that you’ve seen my painting?”

Tsuzuki’s cheeks burned hotly. The boy’s blunt question caught him off guard and all he could do was nod meekly. He felt like a pervert for getting turned on by a painting and now that the real thing was in the same room with him, it didn’t look like his desire was going down anytime soon.

“Uh,” Tsuzuki began.

The boy gave out a sigh and rolled his eyes up to the heavens, as if asking why he was left to deal with an idiot. He glided down the steps in elegant fashion, making Tsuzuki realize that this boy came from a well off family. No low class person could walk with such refinement. The boy stood before him, green eyes still fixed on him. He wasn’t very tall, only came up to Tsuzuki’s shoulders.

“Why are you here?” the boy asked, his voice, deep and soft tinged with frost.

“Uh, I have some business with Mr. Muraki,” Tsuzuki managed to get the words out.

The boy didn’t reply to this. He merely stared at Tsuzuki, as if trying to figure out if he was telling the truth.

“All right,” the boy finally said after a few minutes.

Tsuzuki wasn’t sure what to make of this, but the boy seemed to accept him being there. One of the maids came down the stairs and bowed to the green-eyed boy before turning to Tsuzuki.

“Your room is ready, sir,” she bowed again and scurried off.

Tsuzuki could feel the green eyes burrowing into him.

“I’m here to investigate Mr. Muraki,” Tsuzuki informed the boy. “I hope that you won’t interfere with the investigation.”

“Why would I do that?” the boy answered. He turned to walk away.

“Wait!” Tsuzuki called out, feeling relieved when the boy stopped and turned to look at him.

“What’s your name?” Tsuzuki asked.

The boy hesitated. “Hisoka.”

“My name is Asato Tsuzuki.”

Tsuzuki watched the boy turn away and quickly disappeared into one of the many hallways.

“Hisoka,” Tsuzuki rolled the name off his tongue. He rather liked saying that name. Hisoka.


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Hisoka wasn’t even sure how he made it outside to his favorite spot. It was shocking to see those amethyst eyes. The very ones that had been haunting his dreams for the past few months. Now the owner of those eyes had said that he was staying here to investigate Muraki. Hisoka had to wonder why Muraki agreed to let the man, Tsuzuki stay here. Hisoka wasn’t stupid. He knew that if Muraki didn’t want someone around him or his property, he would make them disappear; official or not, Muraki was selective to who could be in his home.

Sliding down on a stoned bench under a large blossomed tree, Hisoka closed his eyes. He was startled when Tsuzuki had asked for his name. He hadn’t heard his own name in six months. Muraki always called him Angelface or Love, but never Hisoka. It was surprising how good it felt to hear someone ask for his name. A light breeze blew gently against his face, ruffling his hair. Hisoka let out a sigh, suddenly feeling sleepy. It had been a long morning; first Muraki’s “confession” of love, the strange bond he seemed to have formed with his unnaturally conceived son, then meeting the man from his dreams. Thoughts started blending together as they ran rampant in his pretty head; within minutes Hisoka had fallen asleep on the bench.

“Hisoka, Hisoka,” a voice whispered dreamingly. “Wake up, wake up.”

“Nnn,” Hisoka sleepily replied. He was lying upon something velvety and cushiony.

The voice giggled and a phantom finger poked Hisoka’s side. It felt rather ticklish.

“Hmm, stop,” Hisoka said, rolling over. He opened his eyes and found himself staring deep into amethyst eyes. Sitting up, Hisoka took in the sight of an amethyst eyed child. “What’s your name?”

“Asato,” the child giggled. “You can call me Asato-chan!”

Asato Tsuzuki. Yes, it felt like him.

“What are you doing here?” Hisoka asked.

There was another dream-like giggle. “This is my garden.”

Hisoka clutched his fingers around something soft. He looked down and saw flower petals in his hands. He was sleeping on a bed of plush velvet petals. Hisoka took a look around and saw that they were completely surrounded by lush foliage.

“Where’s your home?”

“This is my home. And I’m so glad that you’re here, Hisoka-chan! I was so lonely,” Asato informed him as he wrapped his little arms around Hisoka’s waist. “I get scared being all by myself.”

“Shh,” Hisoka said softly, stroking the dark brown hair. “You have me now.” The urge to comfort the young Tsuzuki was overpowering. He never felt anything like this before.

“You won’t leave me?” Asato asked hopefully.

“No, I won’t.”

Asato snuggled into Hisoka. “What if he tries to take you away?”

“Who?” Hisoka asked.

“The silver man.”

Hisoka woke up with a start. His heart ached for the young Tsuzuki. He knew, just knew that that the child reflected the real Tsuzuki. The overwhelming desire to comfort him was still strongly felt by the empath.

“You should be careful when you go outside,” Muraki said. Hisoka looked over at his consort, startled. He hadn’t even realized that he was now in their bedroom. Muraki sat down next to him and pressed his hand against Hisoka’s forehead.

“You shouldn’t be falling asleep outside in your delicate condition,” Muraki said disapprovingly. “Now you have a fever.”

Muraki pushed Hisoka gently back on the bed and pulled the satin comforter up to the boy’s chin. “Now, go to sleep. I have to entertain our guest. I believe you met him earlier today.” Muraki gave Hisoka a look and smiled. “I do believe he’s quite taken with you, but I’m not that surprised. You do have that affect on people.” Muraki leaned over and kissed his Angelface’s forehead.

Hisoka felt too feverish to comprehend what Muraki had just said and fell back asleep.


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Tsuzuki tugged at the little black tie he was forced to wear, along with a tux. Not even an hour ago a maid came to his room bearing a box. She innocently told him that the Master of the castle wanted him to open it up right away. To his dismay, the maid informed him that Muraki had said to wear the tux to dinner or get out of his home.

Letting out a sigh, Tsuzuki fixed the bow in place. He hated wearing formal wear like this, but he had to do it for the job. Konoe would be serious displeased if Tsuzuki came back without any hard evidence against Muraki. The only good thing about this was that maybe he would see Hisoka. Although, he had to wonder if that would be a good idea. After he met the young man, he took a cold shower in hopes to calm down his desire. But that didn’t work so he had to use his trusty hand to help him. Taking a deep breath, Tsuzuki headed for the dining room.

“Damn it,” Tsuzuki cursed. “Where’s the dining room?” He had been wondering around for a good 20 minutes. “This place is just too big.”

Tsuzuki nearly let out a happy squeal when he saw a maid coming around the corner dusting.

“Hey there, can you tell me where--,” Tsuzuki let out a yelp as the maid suddenly yanked his arm.

“What are you doing?” she cried. “The Master will be displeased if you’re late!”

“Uh, actually, I’m already a little—,” Tsuzuki wasn’t able to finish since the maid dragged him down the hall and pushed him through a doorway. Not appreciating the shove, Tsuzuki was about to give a retort when he noticed that he was in the dining room. It wasn’t large as he wasn’t expecting it to be, but rather, it was cozy and the table had a vase full of red roses. And sitting at the head of the table was Muraki.

“Good evening, Mr. Tsuzuki,” Muraki purred. “Dinner hasn’t been served yet. I suspected that you would get lost so I asked the cook to wait till you arrived.”

“If you knew I wouldn’t make it on time then why didn’t you have someone show me where it was in the first place?” Tsuzuki asked angrily.

“Oh, I just thought it would be fun to see you flustered,” Muraki said merrily. “Now, sit down. Our dinner has arrived.”

Clenching his teeth, Tsuzuki sat down. Muraki smirked at this.

“And here I thought you were about to throw a tantrum.”

“I was,” Tsuzuki admitted. “But I have to think about the mission.”

“Ah yes, the mission, however, you won’t find anything here,” Muraki informed him.

“So you say.”

Muraki let out a peal of laughter. “Mr. Tsuzuki, I didn’t invite you to dinner to discuss your mission. I merely wanted to have a chat with you. How do you like the roses? I picked them out especially for this dinner. They suit you nicely, don’t you think so?”

Tsuzuki turned slightly pink. “What are you playing at?” He ignored the dinner plate that was placed in front of him.

“Nothing. I simply know how to appreciate beautiful things. You’ve seen my boy.”

“Don’t you mean your consort?”

Muraki fixed him a cold look that could rival Hisoka’s. “It doesn’t matter what name he’s given. He’s mine.”

Tsuzuki glared. How dare he talk about Hisoka as if he was some kind of possession?

“The boy is like a rare bird,” Muraki said softly. “A rare bird needs to be locked away so no one can steal him.”

Birds shouldn’t be locked up. They need to be free to roam where they please. Hisoka has the right to be with someone who truly loves him, like m—

Tsuzuki stopped his thoughts right there. He stared down at his plate, feeling bewildered by his sudden thoughts.

“Please look up, Mr. Tsuzuki,” Muraki commanded. “I wish to see those lovely eyes of yours.”

Looking up, Tsuzuki looked straight at the silver man before him. “Speaking of your consort, where is he? Isn’t it rude for the bride of the Master not to be here to entertain the guest?”

Muraki let out another laugh. “Oh, Mr. Tsuzuki, you really are full of surprises. I wouldn’t have thought a man of your status would know such etiquette.”

The purple eyes hardened. He just insulted me!

“My boy has a rather weak constitution and had to retire early tonight,” Muraki said simply. “You’re eyes are quite beautiful, especially when you’re angry.”

Tsuzuki stood up abruptly. “I didn’t come to dinner to listen to this crap,” Tsuzuki stalked off.

Amusement danced in Muraki’s eyes as he watched Tsuzuki leave in a huff. His gaze trailed over to the uneaten plate of food.

“Cook!” Muraki called out. “I think this plate should be sent up to Mr. Tsuzuki. I don’t think he’ll be pleased to go to bed on an empty stomach.”

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Sorry for taking so long! I’ve been sick and it took me a lot longer to get over it then I thought it would have.