Illuminating the Darkness

BY : LucyMay
Category: Descendents of Darkness/Yami No Matsuei > General
Dragon prints: 2623
Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants of Darkness (Yami no Matsuei), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

“A team from our division has seen correcting the memory of any human witnesses,” Finch said with a heavy sigh, collapsing into a chair back at the hotel, where Watari and Tsuzuki were laid out on their beds. Watari was already sitting up, demanding a full account and pouting that he’d been out for most of the battle.

“It would have been such a rare sight to see so many shinigami using their powers in one place,” Watari said, poking at a bruise on his forehead that had already begun to heal.

“We were indeed fortunate to have our collective efforts against Tsuzuki. Otherwise things would have been grave indeed,” Finch said solemnly.

Alain muttered something in French, to which Finch replied, with a withering stare, “This is neither the time or place.”

Hisoka was only half listening as he stared at Tsuzuki’s still form upon the bed.

“Finch?” Hisoka asked, looking up at him. “What did you and Alain do to Tsuzuki exactly? Is he going to be alright?”

“It was a common spell to drive back a demon,” Finch replied, his heavy lidded eyes appearing even more exhausted than usual. “These are the spells in which Alain and myself specialize, which is why I have had the Vemulakonda case for many years. Our combined casting gave it sufficient potency to subdue him, but he will recover.”

“Demon?” Hisoka asked, feeling dizzy as he felt Tsuzuki’s unconscious mind stir unguarded.

“Yes,” Finch said, regarding him with slight irritation. “He is your own lover and you do not know?”

Hisoka’s head swam with buzzing thoughts and emotions, making the sound of Finch’s voice sound far away as he laid his head down on Tsuzuki’s chest and succumbed to the lure of sleep.


“Tsuzuki?” Hisoka called in the darkness. He felt nothingness, no solid touch below him to secure him, and then the panic of falling rapidly.

“Where am I? What is happening?” he cried, his arms thrashing about him for something to cling to. His decent seemed to slow, and stop gradually.

The landscape still blank and black, he stood. From the nothingness, a single rose seemed to sprout and grow, followed rapidly by another, until he was surrounded by a bed of blood red blossoms that glowed with an eerie light in the otherwise barren landscape. Curiously, he reached to touch one, and felt the immediate sting of a thorn. The thorns seemed to grow longer, the stems twisting into a sea of brambles around him. He felt a wave of overwhelming despair and fell to his knees, sobbing like a child.

When he looked up once more, the vegetation was gone, leaving only the closely snipped heads of hundreds of blooms, their petals seeming to bleed and blur in his tearful vision.

“You do not belong here, Hisoka,” he heard a small, child’s voice say. As he looked around, a tiny figure take form from the shadows, and he knew it instantly, though he did not recall from where.

The child came closer, his eyes familiar but completely strange to him at the same time. They were like something he knew, something he cared about, but they were all wrong, too bright, and lacking a spark of emotion that he felt should be there.

“Who are you?” Hisoka asked.

“Asato,” the child replied, cocking his head to one side.

“Is this -- is it really you, Tsuzuki?” Hisoka whispered.

“It is and it isn’t,” the child said with a shrug.

“I don’t understand,” Hisoka said, tears of frustration still falling down his face.

“You’re not meant to,” the child said. “You should go away before he destroys you, too.”

The child faded before Hisoka could say another word.

“Tsuzuki! Where are you? What is this place?” Hisoka demanded.

Hisoka made out Tsuzuki’s form in the darkness. He was crouched, his head hung low, much like Hisoka had last seen him before he had attacked everyone. Hisoka ran towards him, though he never seemed to gain any ground or grow any closer.

“Tsuzuki! Look at me! I want to understand. Please,” Hisoka called to him. Tsuzuki looked up sadly from where he was studying his outstretched hands. They were stained with blood.

“We made a promise -- you can’t leave me,” Hisoka murmured, thrashing fitfully on the bed.

“Shh -- wake up, little one,” Hisoka heard a voice say gently, a cool, assuring hand pressed to his forehead.

“Watari?” Hisoka asked, opening his eyes, and finding himself lying on the bed the scientist had occupied before. He sat up quickly, assuring himself that Tsuzuki where he’d seen him last.

“Is he okay? Has he stirred at all?” Hisoka asked. Watari shook his head.

“He’s still unconscious. Finch and Alain are going to try to wake him once their energy is restored,” Watari said.

“What are they going to do?” Hisoka asked uneasily.

“It is a spell to bind the demonic spirit inside Tsuzuki,” Finch said, having overheard as he walked into the room. “If we weaken the demon’s hold, then perhaps Tsuzuki can regain control of his senses. But it will be entirely up to him from that point.”

“But,” Hisoka said, confused. “I thought what you were trying to tell me was that Tsuzuki was the demon.” Finch sighed, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“It isn’t quite that simple. A being of both human and demonic origin is in constant conflict within themselves. They are warring spirits, like oil and water. It’s almost as if the soul splits and forms separate wholes,” Finch said.

“How do you know so much about such an odd thing, Finch?” Watari asked, listening with great interest.

“Because the Vemulakonda have been experimenting in order to engineer the perfect being from both human and demon genetics for nearly a century,” Finch said.


Hisoka sat outside of the door to his hotel room, replaying the confusing feelings and imagery he had experienced. Had he truly ventured somewhere into Tsuzuki’s unconsciousness, or was it merely a strange dream? Had this strange child been apart of this demonic spirit within Tsuzuki of which Finch had spoken, the same phantom that had been haunting the shadows all this time?

Hisoka had been told to leave the room while Finch and Alain attempted to revive Tsuzuki, much to his dismay. He and the others waited anxiously on the walkway between rooms, watching a sheet of rain paint the world gray around them. It was the early hours of the morning, and none of them had slept well, someone always standing guard in case Tsuzuki awoke and was still no longer in his right mind.

Feeling he would go mad if he focused on his troubles any longer, he observed those who waited with him. Watari seemed uncharacteristically subdued, as if he also had much on his mind. He had told Hisoka that Tatsumi would want to know about all that was happening here and would be angry that he wasn’t informed, but that Watari knew that once the Ministry secretary got even the slightest clue that Tsuzuki was in such a state that he would immediately come to Paris, damn the consequences. And they would have enough explaining to do on their return as it was.

Hy and Michael seemed to be continuing with the odd distance between them that Hisoka had absently noted during breakfast, Hy sitting alone at the balcony’s edge, smoking one of his cigars and watching the rain. Hisoka rose and went to sit beside him.

“I thought you were trying to quit,” Hisoka said. Hy gave a shrug, and didn’t meet his eyes.

“Doesn’t seem to matter much right now,” Hy said quietly, throwing the half smoked cigar over the ledge. “Do you think Tsuzuki will be mad that I punched him?”

“I doubt he’ll remember,” Hisoka said. “I don’t think that was Tsuzuki.”

“No, it couldn’t have been,” Hy said. “I’m really sorry about all this, Hisoka. Maybe I --” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“What is it?” Hisoka prompted.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let Tatsumi and Watari convince me in letting you get involved after all,” Hy said. “I just sort of trusted that two smart fellas like them would know best, but it was still my decision in the end.”

“This would have happened either way. I think that’s what Tsuzuki has been trying to protect me from all this time. He knew something was changing within him, but he didn’t want to tell me,” Hisoka said, flinching. “I don’t know why the big idiot just can’t accept that we’re in this together, that I promised never to leave him and that he can’t just push me away now --”. Hisoka closed his eyes, fighting tears he felt too tired to shed. He felt the cautious touch of a warm hand seeking his, and, after a slight uneasy pause, accepted it.

“I know what y’all are going through is a lot worse, but in a way, I kinda understand,” Hy said giving his palm a gentle squeeze. Hisoka was unsure what to say, and didn’t wish to pry. Sensing his discomfort, Hy gave him a forced smile.

“Michael’s good, ain’t he?” Hy asked shyly. “I mean, I hate that he had to do that to Tsuzuki, but --”.

“Yes. You were right, I was impressed,” Hisoka answered. “It’s okay, Hy. We had to protect ourselves, and he wasn’t injured.”

The door behind them flew open, Alain gesturing towards him.

“Hisoka, come,” he asked. Hisoka gave him a bewildered look and followed him into the room.

Tsuzuki was tossing on the bed, murmuring low as if he were in the midst of a bad dream. Finch stood beside him in the low light of the bedside lamp, chanting, his hands ghosting patterns in the air above him.

“The worst is over,” Alain explained quietly. “Finch thinks it best if you are near to draw him forward.”

Hisoka looked at him questioningly before receiving a nod as he reached for Tsuzuki’s hand.

“Tsuzuki? It’s me, Hisoka,” he said quietly, leaning near Tsuzuki’s ear. Tsuzuki was drenched in sweat, his white shirt torn and disarrayed as if he had been through a physical struggle.

“Please, Tsuzuki, I know you’re tired, but you need to fight it,” Hisoka said, the tears he’d held back now flowing. “I don’t know what you’re going through, and I don’t completely understand, but I know you’re struggling against something, and I need you to try.

Muraki’s wrong, Tsuzuki. You are human. You’ve never been anything else.”

Tsuzuki’s breathing quickened and his lips fell still in their mutterings.

“Remember when you told me I was selfish in Kyoto?” Hisoka continued, choking back a sob. “Well, I am selfish. I need you, and I’m not going to let you go. You need to fight it for me, Tsuzuki.”

Tsuzuki’s body pitched upward slightly, and he went rigid, panting furiously. Finch’s chants became louder, as Alain attempted to hold him down on the bed. Hisoka stepped back, holding his breath and digging his nails into his palms. Tsuzuki’s body relaxed at last, Alain wiping his brow with a handkerchief on the bedside table and whispering an incantation.

Tsuzuki opened his eyes.


“Tsuzuki?” Hisoka asked, pushing Alain aside and climbing onto the bed. “Tsuzuki can you understand me?”

Tsuzuki nodded weakly, giving a small smile. Hisoka kissed him, lightly, clinging to him tightly with an exhausted sob, as Tsuzuki feebly raised an arm to pat him on the back. Finch and Alain quietly exited the room.

After Hisoka had satisfied himself that Tsuzuki was indeed safely himself and moderately coherent, running his fingers over the other man’s face and asking him simple questions, he sat up with a deep sigh.

“You stupid, moronic, selfish martyr of a baka!” Hisoka yelled, smacking him on the head.

“The hell?” Tsuzuki murmured in complaint. “I’m kind of defenseless right now, baby.”

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve worried me? How much danger you brought on yourself and the rest of us? Why did you leave us there? Did you really think I wouldn’t find a way to follow you? Don’t you ever do anything like that again, you hear me?” Hisoka went red in the face, hitting Tsuzuki repeatedly over the head with a pillow to punctuate his words.

Stopping with the pillow in mid air, he stared at Tsuzuki’s pale, bewildered face, and the wide, innocent expression in his beautiful eyes that Hisoka had been uncertain he would ever see again. He sensed love there, and, of equal importance to him at that moment, he sensed trust. Dropping the pillow, he collapsed once more across the older man’s chest and broke into fresh sobs once more.

“I’m just so grateful that you’ve come back to me,” Hisoka said, his words muffled from where he buried his face in Tsuzuki’s chest. Tsuzuki shushed him soothingly, rubbing his back with whispered apologies.

“I’ve never cried so much in my life,” Hisoka said with a slight hiccup, looking up at him with swollen red eyes.

“Just rest, baby,” Tsuzuki said, wiping a tear from his cheek. Hisoka nodded, and without another word, curled against him and slept.


Hisoka awoke to the sensation of warm lips and hands exploring his body.

“Tsuzuki -- Watari,” Hisoka protested groggily, reluctantly pushing him away.

“Is staying in Hy and Michael’s room,” Tsuzuki replied.

Despite the time they’d lacked the privacy to be together, they took things slowly, tender caresses and lingering kisses speaking of things they knew would only be lost in mere words. The two men knew that something even more profound had awakened between them, as Hisoka at last felt another of the many doors Tsuzuki had kept locked between them open, and a hope that had not been there before.

You’re going to save me from myself.

I know who you are, and I love you.

I need you so much that it scares me.

Wherever you are heading, I will follow you.


“Rested up, boys?” Watari called, barging into the room.

“Should’ve made him give back the key, baka,” Hisoka muttered, his eyelashes fluttering as he awoke, and clutched the covers closer.

“Well, everything seems back to normal here,” Watari said with a giggle upon seeing their state of undress. “Wasn’t it nice of me to give you some privacy?”

“Do you have a reason to be in here?” Hisoka groaned, pulling the pillow over his head.

“You’re welcome,” Watari sniffed, then took a more serious tone. “Finch has a lead, if you’re sure you want to continue with this.”

Tsuzuki sat up, glancing back at Hisoka, before giving Watari a nod.

“Then we’ll meet you in the lobby when you’re ready,” Watari said with a wink. “I’m so happy that you’re back big fella. You even had me worried for a moment there.”

Tsuzuki gave him a smile before he left the room.

“Tsuzuki -- if you want to go home --,” Hisoka began.

“No. I told you we were coming here for answers, and we’re not leaving until we get them. Muraki didn’t bring the files with him. He was trying to lure me to another location with them,” Tsuzuki said.

“Do you have an idea what is in them?” Hisoka asked. “Are they from the time you were under the care of Muraki’s grandfather?”

“They aren’t my medical files. They’re my mother’s,” Tsuzuki said.

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