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Title: Crying
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tsuzuki/Hisoka, Muraki/Tsuzuki
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Um, angst?
Summary: What if, somehow, Tsuzuki discovered he was in love with Muraki? More importantly, what is Hisoka's reaction to it?
Comments: I felt like writing something depressing. I don't know. I should be working on a CERTAIN fic, but...

Just be warned, this is a depressing piece. This is my take on Hisoka if somehow, he discovered that Tsuzuki fell in love with Muraki and told Hisoka about it.


It's been almost a month since he confessed his "secret" to me. How long has he been keeping this from everyone? More importantly, how much longer can he keep it from everyone else? Eventually, they'll find out about it.

I was the first one he confessed to though...

He thinks he's sick in the head, feeling that way towards the one who only sought out to hurt him. But deep down, he thinks he deserves it. He likes the attention sometimes that is given to him. No one has given him that sort of attention before.

And he admits to finding him attractive too...

He asked me if that was love. I couldn't answer that question for him, but from books that I read, that people who are in love give attention to the one they love and are attracted to them in some sort of way.

He said he thought he was in love with Muraki...

It took everything I had inside not to break down in front of Tsuzuki. I thought that this was a nightmare, some sort of sick twisted joke that someone was playing on me. If it weren't for the look in Tsuzuki's eyes, I would have laughed at how absurd his confession was.

How could Tsuzuki fall in love with someone who has made my life... no, our life, a living hell!?

After the polite nods and smiles, I came home and broke down. Tsuzuki is important to me. I'll never admit it out loud, but he is. He gave me a place to belong; he showed me that people could accept me for what I am...

How can I give him to the man that will break him apart!?

I know what he will do to Tsuzuki. He will do the same as he does to me. Playing his mind games on him. Raping him not only in body, but also in soul. And then, Tsuzuki will only be a shell of what he is. That smile he plants on his face will be even emptier than it is now. His hallow eyes staring back at me. His mind...

The thought of Tsuzuki becoming what I became brings bile up in the back of my throat that I have to choke back...

But yet, what right do I have to stop him? If I tell him, 'no, this is a bad idea', what would he say?

What if he really can make Tsuzuki happy?

What right do I, his partner and co-worker, have to tell him what he should and shouldn't do?

The next day after his confession to me, he received a note from him. How, it's anyone's guess. Muraki has powers that not even the top Shinigami can begin to comprehend.

For the entire day, he was gone. He came back the next day; the smile plastered on his face and no one was the wiser. Of course, they were all blissfully ignorant of where he was, except me. Everyone thought he was fine.

Does Tsuzuki still not understand that he can't always hide behind a smile and sweets??

And for the rest of the month, he would get notes. And every time, he would go to him. And every time, he would come back, that fake smile on his lips burning into my soul. There were times where I wanted to slap him hard, just so that he'll show anything but that smile.

There are nights, though, where he suddenly comes to me unexpectedly. His violet eyes are wet with tears, his hair disheveled, his clothes hastily thrown on, and I knew what happened.

How could I turn him away?

And then he would cry. He would spend the entire night crying. And it took everything I had not to cry with him.

And every night, I would tell myself that I would be honest with him. Tell him that he needs to stop this. Tell him that he deserved better than this...

But I never told him...

And we would both fall asleep in my bed, never saying a word to each other. In the morning, we would wake from our own personal nightmares, that smile would be on his face as he thanked me for being there for him and apologizing for putting up with him. I tell him simply that's what partners do, hiding behind my own mask, and that would be the only time where his smile was heartfelt. Then he would leave to get ready for work, or if it were a Sunday, he would go back home.

When he didn't come over my house that would be my time to cry. Because I would know exactly what's happening to him at the moment. What was done to me. And then knowing how I can't help him in any other way...

Here it is, a month later. I hear a knock at my door and I know all too well who it is. I put down the book that I was reading and I again promise myself that tonight, I would be honest with him and know I'll fail to uphold that promise.

One day, I will...

One day, before it's too late...
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