Author's Notes: Many, many thanks and choc-covered Tatsumis and Wataris to my betas Lynn Dyre and MC Threewalls. Their comments and suggestions were invaluable. All remaining faults are mine. Also, credit for a (frequently) used phrase in this story goes to mistressrenet ("Oh, sensei, I've been so naughty..."); she coined it on LJ. Special thanks to you! The title comes from Shakespeare, Sonnet 116.

Includes a wonderful picture made for me by Lynn Dyre *thanks so much, hugs*!!

Tatsumi’s birthday was approaching yet again and he resented the fuss everyone made about it. He had never celebrated it when alive and since he had died, the day had completely lost its meaning. He would be a year older, yes, but he no longer aged – he was perpetually caught in a 29-year-old body and, quite frankly, it was a waste of money to add a candle to the cake on each birthday.

He remembered Watari suggesting, about twelve years prior, they celebrate Tatsumi’s death-day instead. Tatsumi had, quite firmly, declined the offer and resigned himself to a birthday cake, candles, and congratulations. It was, in his opinion the more sensible option, as he didn’t particularly want to be reminded of the day he’d died.

Mental and physical exhaustion, pain, and stress had made him welcome the road accident that killed him, but his desperate guilt over his mother had kept him anchored to life, anchored to a possibly endless afterlife.

The one anniversary Tatsumi always fastidiously celebrated was his mother’s death-day. He would go to Chijou (1), light a candle in the shrine closest to where they had lived, and offer a prayer for her soul.

----

Thursday, December fourth, started out like most other days with Tatsumi arriving at work early, taking a cup of coffee from the break room and settling down at his desk. Konoe-kacho had suggested Tatsumi have his own office, if only to stack all of his papers and folders somewhere.

A former copy room (the copy machine had long been put into the main office) now served Tatsumi’s privacy and work needs – the only drawback was that he no longer had a window. However, as Tatsumi’s job involved a lot of walking about to collect forms and folders apart from the more general accounting tasks he was taking care of, he didn’t feel he was missing out on much.

It was on one of his rounds, on the way back from the library that he passed by the break room, where a row was already in full swing: Tsuzuki and Terazuma were glowering, facing each other off at different ends of a table, faces red with fury.

“Take that back, you moron!”

“You’re the moron! I know you do!”

Terazuma spit out his cigarette, while trying to come up with a retort. Tatsumi couldn’t see Kannuki anywhere and Kurosaki was conspicuously absent as well, which explained the level of noise and … damage.

A quick calculation on the broken cups (three), cracked plates and saucers (five), and the open carton (milk stains on the wall) – Tatsumi’s brows drew together. The cracked leg of the chair Terazuma was leaning on was the last straw; Tatsumi’s voice could be heard clearly, menacingly, “Quiet!”

Terazuma jumped, Tsuzuki cowered, but both still cast furtive, angered glances at each other.

“Who started this?”

“He did!” They chorused as one, pointing at each other like three year-olds. Tatsumi felt the telltale pressure in his temples – sure sign of an impending headache. He suppressed a sigh.

“Fine. You both started it, you both pay for the damage.”

“But, … Tatsumi, I just …” Tsuzuki’s eyes were large, pleading, and Tatsumi might have let him get off easily again.

Thankfully Watari chose that moment to enter the break room, hair dishevelled and without glasses. Tatsumi briefly wondered if he was wearing contacts, as he had done often during the Kurosaki case, when Tatsumi had been especially prone to notice given their close quarters. It brought out his eyes, an unprofessional thought that Tatsumi tried not to dwell on.

“Hey guys,” Watari squinted – no contacts, then, “Everything alright?”

“He called me names, again.” Tsuzuki pointed an accusing finger at Terazuma and cast a glance at Tatsumi at the same time.

“You insulted me! Just ‘cause I was in the same damn room!” It was impressive to see Terazuma’s aura twitch with nervous tension, his ears seeming more pointed of a sudden.

Tatsumi straightened his glasses, cleared his throat, “Enough. As I said, I…”

“You started it!”

“You insulted me first!”

“I did not!”

“Did too!”

“Not!”

Tatsumi was about to shout again for them to stop, when Terazuma’s shadow broadened suddenly, and he let loose a throaty roar, black mane flying every which way. He was just shy of brushing the ceiling and Tatsumi knew the clatter of cups and cutlery was only the beginning. This had to stop immediately. Watari jumped to the side just before one massive paw hit the coffee table with a thud. It began shuddering, creaking, wood splintering and breaking.

Terazuma growled, red eyes glowing, seemingly fixated on Tsuzuki, who was already reaching for a fuda. “Tsuzuki, don’t. No more damage!” Tatsumi had found his voice: cold, impassive, as well as his headache, which was now beginning to pound against his temple.

“But … he’s going to jump me! I have to defend…”

“Quiet! Watari, get Kannuki-san. Now. Tsuzuki, stay where you are, don’t move.”

“But, … Tatsumi!”

“Be quiet, Tsuzuki!” Tatsumi reached out, summoning the shadows lurking around Kagankokushungei (2), ready to pounce and bind him should he advance on Tsuzuki. Tatsumi’s attention was focused on the middle of the room. The lion moved forward, massive jaws opening to reveal long, sharp teeth.

The lion advanced, stepping on the groaning wood of the former table and, with its massive paws, grinding a chair into the floor. Tsuzuki swallowed, gripped his fuda tightly, and began an incantation under his breath.

“Stop, Tsuzuki, there is no …”

Kagankokushungei slowly prowled forward, Tsuzuki’s back hit the wall, and he gasped, fuda falling to the floor beside him. A metre, eighty centimetres, seventy, the distance between Tsuzuki and the furious lion disappeared; Tatsumi moved his wrist, Kagankokushungei roared, straining against the shadow bonds, even as Tsuzuki instinctively dropped to the ground.

Tsuzuki groped for the fuda and Tatsumi growled, “Don’t you dare call your Shiki, Tsuzuki. I will not condone further property damage!”

Keeping Kagankokushungei in check was more difficult than Tatsumi had expected; the Shikigami was strong and furious. The lion hissed and spat, paw raised to strike, hindered by yet another shadow bond. Tatsumi’s control was impeded by his headache and it seemed like a long time until Kannuki raced into the room. She glared first at the lion, and then briefly at Tatsumi, “Let him go, I got him.”

Tatsumi did, noticing that Tsuzuki had crawled towards him, hiding behind him. Kannuki slapped a fuda between Kagankokushungei’s eyes and moments later Terazuma sat on the floor naked, panting, still glaring.

“What did you think you were doing, Hajime! You’re being irresponsible – just look what you did!” Kannuki scolding someone was a sight to behold, especially given that Terazuma had gotten up and towered above her. Still, he was the one who looked uncomfortable, hands folded protectively in front of him.

Tatsumi raised his hand to massage his aching temple, aborting the motion to right his glasses instead. He controlled the impulse to shout, instead speaking distinctly and slowly, “Terazuma-san, Tsuzuki-san, congratulations on wrecking the break room. Terazuma-san, find some clothes. I want you and Tsuzuki-san to clean up the mess before lunch and find a new table and chairs. The broken dishes and furniture will, of course be deducted from your pay.”

Both men grumbled, although they looked suitably abashed. Kannuki was looking at them sternly enough to make even Tatsumi shiver. ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman’ – there should’ve been another word, but he’d forgotten the rest of the quote. He felt a hand on his arm and turned his head.

Watari stood beside him, expression serious, “They’re both nervous. Bon’s been on edge all day and I think his emotions leaked across his shields. Wakaba noticed and came to talk to me. We’ve been trying to persuade him to go home. Wakaba saw him off just now.”

Kurosaki’s bad mood was nothing new, of course. Ever since Tatsumi and Watari had let Kurosaki know about the investigation against his family, the boy had evaded them. He left the room when they approached and was hardly civil when spoken to directly. A grunted ‘good morning’ was the most he’d said to Tatsumi in the past week.

Tatsumi didn’t think Kurosaki was any friendlier with Watari, although the bright sparks of anger in the boy’s eyes on seeing the case file had been tempered by Watari’s quiet, patient explanation.

But for all that Kurosaki was angry and upset, Tatsumi didn’t think there was a reason to go easy on either Tsuzuki or Terazuma because of it, “That’s no excuse for the damage they’ve caused. Just look around you!”

“Perhaps not an excuse. Still, take it into account in their punishment – Bon’s been irritable since we gave him the case file; he’s been evading everyone and he’s as unapproachable as he was when he first came. You know how much Tsuzuki relies on Bon’s emotional stability.”

Tatsumi nodded, rigid posture relaxing a little.

“Have you talked to Kurosaki-kun about the case already, Watari-san?”

“No, not yet. I think Bon’ll tell Tsuzuki when he’s ready; he might come to us after, or not at all. I don’t want to interfere.”

Tatsumi inclined his head, looking at the young woman across from him, “Kannuki-san, I trust you to keep an eye on Terazuma-san and Tsuzuki-san. I don’t want a repeat of this!”

Kannuki nodded, planting her hands on her hips and glaring at the two men. Tatsumi had, by now, a searing pain in his right temple and all he wanted was to get back to his office. He had some pills in his desk drawer. The headache was probably a side effect of the cold he had been suffering from the past few weeks. He would start sneezing and coughing next, he was sure.

“Watari-san, do you have a moment?”

“Sure.”

Tatsumi curtly nodded in Kannuki’s direction once more, noticing the glare she levelled at Terazuma with satisfaction. In the corridor Watari turned to him, “Something work related you want to discuss?”

“No. I’ve run out of eye drops and I think I need some cough medicine again.”

“That cold still bothering you?”

“A little, yes.”

“I’ll get you a new stash from the infirmary and drop it off at your office.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Tatsumi.” Watari grinned at him, winking, and Tatsumi almost smiled.

----

Tatsumi’s quiet work routine remained uninterrupted for the rest of the day and the pills thankfully took care of his headache. He didn’t see Watari, as he was out of his office, talking to Konoe-kacho when the scientist dropped in.

The medicine was on his table when he returned, along with a note,

Tatsumi, you didn’t look well earlier.
Take it easy and go home early –
doctor's orders!
W.

Tatsumi frowned lightly. There was still a lot of work on his desk, but he knew from experience that Watari could be persistent if he wanted; and when it came to his co-workers’ health he wouldn’t back down. Perhaps an early night was in order, it would improve his efficiency the following day.

Having decided to leave the office the same time everyone else did, Tatsumi immersed himself in his work again. He only took a short coffee break at 15:15, when he met Kurosaki in the – undersupplied but at least orderly again – break room, radiating annoyance.

“Kurosaki-kun. Watari-san informed me you had gone home.”

“Tsuzuki called me and complained about everyone hating him. I told him he was being ridiculous and an idiot and he just started sobbing and hung up. He doesn’t do that, usually. I thought I should … check on him.”

Kurosaki’s voice was quiet and almost hesitant. Tatsumi thought it was a good sign he was responding to Tatsumi’s question at all.

“So you came to see Tsuzuki?”

“Yes, but I can’t find him. Do you know where he is?”

“Perhaps you should ask Kannuki-san. I asked her to keep an eye on Tsuzuki-san. He got into a fight with Terazuma-san again. In fact, everything missing in the break room and the new crack in the ceiling can be attributed to their little row.”

Kurosaki groaned, shaking his head, “That idiot, he just can’t keep out of trouble. I’ll go look for Kannuki-san then. Thank you, Tatsumi-san.”

Tatsumi nodded, pouring some milk into his coffee, noticing the crack in the small jug with a sigh. But still, he couldn’t hold back a smile at the thought of Kurosaki coming in expressly to reassure Tsuzuki he didn’t hate him. He supposed that was as good as saying the three magic words in the boy's language.

----

Tatsumi returned to his desk in slightly better spirits, only to find a mail alert flashing on his computer. He sighed, expecting an enquiry from the Accounting division concerning the budget. He had sent the requisite forms a few days prior and knew he would be questioned in detail about every yen. Tatsumi was a good accountant, but the Accounting division was even more nitpicky with figures than him.

However, the e-mail wasn’t work-related at all:

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net (3)
Date: 2001/12/04, Tue, 15:17
Subject: for your eyes only
--------
Tatsumi,
I hate seeing you so tired.
Get some sleep. If you need
help relaxing, I could offer a
massage *smile*.
Thinking of you, S_A

Tatsumi’s first instinct was to delete the message, supposing it to be a prank from one of his colleagues. But given the contents, he saw no reason at all to use an alias. As Tatsumi was naturally curious, he nevertheless decided to check who the e-mail was from. A few clicks later, Tatsumi was looking at the complete message header and had to grudgingly admit that ‘S_A’ was certainly *very* good with computers.

The e-mail had been sent on a zigzag voyage through cyberspace and the Shokan internal network, as evidenced by the string of “vias” in the header. In fact, as far as Tatsumi’s knowledge of computers went, the message was untraceable. This, in other words, indicated that Watari would in all probability be able to find the mysterious sender within an hour.

However, Tatsumi didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask Watari to check the e-mail. It certainly was a one-off and there would be questions that Tatsumi wasn’t prepared to answer: for example why he was bothered so much by a harmless, anonymous message in the first place.

After re-reading the e-mail three times, Tatsumi resolved not to think about it anymore. Still, he printed it, carefully folded it twice, and took it home. He found it when he emptied his pockets and re-read it quickly. It somehow put him in a better mood.

----

December fifth dawned cloudy and wet, with a biting breeze and cool gusts of wind that blew raindrops against the windows.

Tatsumi had begun sneezing again, although his throat felt fine as he had taken the cough medicine early enough. But his eyes were dry and looking at the computer screen for too long was exhausting; the eye drops didn’t help much.

He was on the verge of e-mailing Watari to ask him if he had some other eye drops in store, when he received the dreaded message from the Accounting division. Tatsumi spent almost an hour answering the e-mail, developing a headache and, consequently, a foul mood.

Finally finished, he clicked ‘send’ and resolved to treat himself to a cup of coffee and a bun since he had skipped breakfast. Another mail alert stopped him, though. Tatsumi’s sense of duty made him open it, expecting another message from the Accounting division. Yet again, it turned out to be a personal e-mail:

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/05, Wed, 14:54
Subject: for your eyes only 2
--------
Tatsumi,
I thought of you again today.
Do you feel better?
Forecast for the weekend
looks pretty gloomy. Stay
home, curl up to someone.
I’m available *wink*.
Take care, S_A

There was a little voice inside his head that told Tatsumi to be annoyed with the sender. Yet the message was friendly and there really was no harm in it. Neither was there a reason not to print it and take it home. If it was a prank, it would end soon enough; it was just important to show no reaction – otherwise the prankster would try again.

In the meantime, Tatsumi resolved to go home early again, unusual as it was for him. However, his cold was quite persistent in reminding him he was not in best form and the thought of stretching out his legs, a cup of tea beside him, and classical music on the radio was severely tempting.

Finally, Tatsumi gathered a stack of papers to avoid losing valuable work time, packed them into his briefcase, and left the office at 18:00.

----

The next week was filled with more dreary weather, lots of rain and clouds, and not a speck of sunshine.

There were no more e-mails from S_A – whoever he or she was – although the Accounting division ensured that Tatsumi could not spare much thought for it.

Terazuma and Tsuzuki were both on edge, although both had mellowed somewhat by mid-week, probably due to Kurosaki’s managing to reign in his emotions again. Tatsumi had a short conversation with Watari about it on Thursday, when they met at the coffee machine in the break room.

“Bon’s much better since yesterday, don’t you think, Tatsumi?”

“I have noticed him being less edgy at the staff meeting, yes.”

“I think he talked to Tsuzuki about his family. I found the Kurosaki case file on my desk this morning.”

“I can image the situation coming as a shock to him.”

Watari smiled, “Probably; knowing what would have happened to him if he’d lived… poor Bon. I still think it was good to tell him. He might have come across the file sometime; it would’ve been awkward to explain why we never said a word.”

“I suppose so.”

“It would’ve damaged our friendship more if we had kept something so big from him.”

“Sometimes a white lie is better than the truth, Watari-san.”

Watari nodded, peering over the rim of his glasses at Tatsumi, “Quite true. And sometimes, the truth is necessary to put the past behind and move on. Wouldn’t you agree, Sensei?”

Tatsumi flushed, memories of a classroom in Kyoto, of wild blond locks, sexual tension, and heat assailing him. He glared at the smirking scientist, “Some things are better forgotten, Watari-san.” He raised his voice slightly, emphasising the formal address. His heart was pounding as he grabbed the coffee cup and strode out of the break room as quickly as he could without seeming hurried.

----

Sensei… Tatsumi remembered the word too well from an afternoon almost a year ago. He’d heard it at the Kyoto school where he and his co-workers had worked while guarding Mariko from Muraki. Tatsumi had taught mathematics and, although it was only a cover, he’d enjoyed it. He’d always been good with figures and his students seemed to understand his explanations well.

**

Watari strolled into the classroom after Tatsumi’s last students had filed out. The scientist grinned mischievously as he closed the door and sat on the desk, swinging his long legs, "Good afternoon, Sensei."

Tatsumi gave him a curt nod in response, continuing to gather exercise books and teaching materials. When he was finished, he put his metal pointer on top. He planned on returning to his office, but Watari started to speak, "Bon's keeping an eye on Mariko. It took us a while to persuade Tsuzuki he could take a break."

"Kurosaki-kun is well capable of doing the job."

"Yeah, but you know Tsuzuki; for him Mariko is his personal responsibility. He wasn't even going to break for lunch, so Bon and I decided he had to. It's no good letting him go hungry. Nothing suspicious has been happening today either."

"That means we have to be more vigilant still. Muraki won't back off."

"No, he won't. But we'll deal with him, won't we?"

"I believe so, Watari-san." Tatsumi gave his colleague a slight smile, "Shall we go? It's our turn to guard Mariko tonight and I would like to finish some of this grading before then."

"You really like your work here, don't you?"

Tatsumi shrugged, drawing one long finger up his pointer, in a hesitant caress. Watari followed the motion of Tatsumi's hand, a strange smile creeping onto his face, "You like your authority then, Sensei. I understand the appeal, of course; having your students hanging onto your every word, watching every motion of yours..."

Tatsumi didn't answer, continuing his slow, teasing strokes up and down his pointer, mesmerized by the contrast of cool metal against the warmth of his skin. Watari put his hand out, catching Tatsumi's fingers, trapping them in a firm grip.

"Have you ever thought of using your power on a willing student, Sensei?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Watari-san." It was a lie; images appeared in Tatsumi’s mind, unbidden. Power, authority, control; Tatsumi's voice was hoarse. Watari's fingers softly stroked his knuckles, his other hand took hold of Tatsumi's arm, gently pulling him forward so he stood between Watari's spread legs, in the circle of his body.

Tatsumi's hand bumped against Watari's knee; he drew it back as if stung, but Watari clicked his tongue, firmly taking his hand and placing it on Watari's thigh, just above his knee.

His rational mind told Tatsumi to pull back and get himself out of the situation with as much dignity as he still possessed. But he could feel the warmth of Watari's body through the faded denim of the scientist's jeans and it had been so long since he'd last touched someone for pleasure.

“I need to be punished, Sensei," Watari's voice was low and urgent, "I've been so naughty.”

Watari began slowly trailing his fingertips up along Tatsumi's arm to his shoulder in a teasing caress as he placed Tatsumi’s hand back onto the pointer, against the swiftly warming metal, "Punish me, Sensei."

Something gave in Tatsumi's mind, perhaps his sense of decorum, or of self-preservation, and he no longer looked at Watari as his colleague, someone he saw daily and worked with – he only saw a man, whose tall, slender body seemed to beg for his touch. Tatsumi's hand tightened on the pointer, he raised it, letting it rest against the side of Watari's neck.

There was a hitch in Watari's breath, almost a gasp when the metal pressed against his skin and Tatsumi slowly exhaled. Perhaps it was the public location that gave him a guilty thrill. Or maybe it was just Watari’s low, seductive voice that wound around him, “Teach me to behave, Sensei.”

Tatsumi slowly drew the pointer down Watari’s throat, tightening his grip on the scientist’s thigh; he placed his other hand on Watari’s chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat and shifting muscles beneath the white pullover and black turtleneck.

They didn’t kiss, although Tatsumi leant forward, let their foreheads touch; they looked at each other. The pointer trailed across Watari’s chest, barely brushing the tips of Tatsumi’s own fingers. They both shivered, Watari crossed his ankles behind Tatsumi’s legs, encircling him. Strong hands gripped Tatsumi’s upper arms and the pointer travelled slowly downward.

It drew tight little circles around cloth-covered nipples, down Watari’s twitching abdomen, further down between his legs, stroking the stiff metal teasingly up and down his lap. Watari’s cheeks were flushed, painting his pale face; he wet lush lips with the tip of his tongue, mouth slightly open, panting.

Watari’s eyes seemed darker, with a glint of silver; he smiled and slowly lay back on the desk, wrapping both arms around Tatsumi’s neck and drawing him down. Their bodies touched; Tatsumi moaned, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily.

Their groins touched, Watari threw his head back, Tatsumi gripped Watari’s thigh harder, pushed his hips forward again; he sought friction, rubbing their erections together. They were gasping, Tatsumi’s lips slipped down Watari’s jaw, skimmed his neck. He rested his head on Watari’s shoulder, still thrusting blindly, needing more, the heat in his groin almost unbearable, his body tight and throbbing.

Watari’s hips bucked upwards, one hand tangled in Tatsumi’s hair, the other biting sharp into his shoulder blade as he reached his release. “Sensei!” Watari’s ragged voice cut through the fog of pleasure Tatsumi felt in the rush of climax, the tension spilling over inexorably.

Watari’s heart was racing against Tatsumi’s cheek, the smell of sex was strong in the air and Tatsumi noticed his glasses had slipped forward on his nose. He pulled back, shivering as Watari turned the withdrawal of his hands into caresses.

A bucket rattled in the corridor, slivers of conversation, a peal of laughter – the students were coming to clean up. Tatsumi quickly ran a hand through his hair, the other still gripping his pointer tightly. Watari still lay sprawled on his desk, golden locks tumbling off the edge. He was smiling and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Open the window. Your jacket’s long enough to hide the stain on your trousers; you can change before you start with the grading.” Tatsumi moved quickly, taking a deep breath when autumn air filtered into room. He straightened his jacket, his shirt and tie, righted his glasses.

Watari chuckled, drawing his pullover down across his jeans and closing a few buttons on his lab coat, ruffling his hair still further instead of trying to smooth the wild locks framing his face and shoulders. Tatsumi wanted to say something, perhaps even step closer; just then the door was flung open.

Kurosaki entered, eyes narrowing and nose screwing up; he cast a suspicious glance at them, “Tsuzuki relieved me of duty.”

Watari raised an eyebrow, “Hm, that was a quick break. Go back and stay with him, Bon. Tatsumi and I will try to find some more information on Satomi-sensei (4). He’s the only lead we have so far.”

“Alright,” Kurosaki left the room; Tatsumi looked at Watari, mind already reverting to the business at hand, “Let’s get to work then.”

**

Tatsumi hadn’t spoken to Watari about that afternoon; not even during the Kurosaki case. They had often been alone and there might have been opportunities to discuss the matter. But other things had always intervened: Tatsumi had found himself drawn to Nagare’s plight and Watari had been less approachable after hacking into Enma-cho’s main computer.

Yet sometimes Tatsumi remembered that autumn afternoon, the pale red glow of the sun casting its shadows into the empty classroom and Watari, on his back, smiling up at him. When, alone in his bed, he called the images to him, his hand drifted beneath the covers to stroke his erection; and it never took long before he came, suddenly, shuddering.

----

Not quite a fortnight to his birthday and there were already whispers in the corridor when Tatsumi appeared. He knew Tsuzuki was planning a party, he had done so for the last sixteen years after all; Konoe-kacho kept making gentle enquiries into what Tatsumi wanted for a present, and Kurosaki kept giving him measuring glances.

Watari was the only one who treated him remotely the same, although he didn’t see the scientist often. Thankfully Watari wasn’t prone to blowing things up on a regular basis in the laboratory, so Tatsumi didn’t have to check how much was broken and deduct items from Watari’s paycheque.

Tatsumi had almost forgotten the prank e-mails he had received, until another one landed in his inbox:

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/14, Fri, 13:29
Subject: for your eyes only 3
--------
Tatsumi,
You’re far too tense! I see you
and you’re frowning. You can’t
hate Christmas or your birthday
that much. Try to smile a bit.
Or I’ll have to be naughty and
let you punish me for it. That
should lift your spirits *wink*.
Try a smile today, S_A

Tatsumi re-read the message thrice before printing it. He folded the paper, put it in his breast pocket, and read it again after his lunch break. His mind was working quickly, putting the pieces of the jigsaw together.

There were only three people who knew him well enough to write an e-mail with this tone: Tsuzuki, Watari, and Kazuma. And there were only two who could hope to play a prank on him and tell the tale after he had finished with them. Watari, however, was the only one who knew about Kyoto. He needed to have a word with him.

However, a head-to-head confrontation involved too much emotion, too much chance of losing control and ending up doing something impulsive as he had in Kyoto. Still, there was a voice at the back of his head that said he had liked that situation very much and that there was nothing wrong in enjoying a moment if it presented itself.

While Tatsumi thought it might be better to put a stop to the e-mails at once, he could not deny he was intrigued by the game Watari had started. And because two could play at e-mail insinuations, Tatsumi considered it time he replied to the elusive S_A.

----

Having decided on a course of action, Tatsumi needed to implement it and that turned out to be more complicated than he had anticipated. He hit the reply button and then sat in front of his computer, staring at the message. He deleted everything except for the subject.

Tatsumi hadn’t often been the recipient of flirty attention, his perpetually serious and closed face had seen to that. Staring at the screen, he began typing, erasing, typing, erasing again; words eluded him, he couldn’t quite express what he wanted.

Almost a quarter of an hour later, with a fatalistically in-drawn breath, he clicked the send button:

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: S_A
Date: 2001/12/14, Fri, 13:47
Re: for your eyes only 3
--------
Watari-san,
Your lack of tact is amazing.

The reply came only a few minutes later, the mail alert catching him by surprise. He hadn’t expected such a quick answer. He read through the message even as he automatically gave the print commands, studying it a second time once it lay before him on paper.

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/14, Fri, 13:51
Re: Re: for your eyes only 3
--------
You like it when I’m tactless,
‘cause it makes you smile.
You took a while to figure me out,
getting old, are we? *grins*
Tactlessly yours, S_A

Tatsumi would have liked to write back a scathing comment straight away, yet a knock on the door prevented him.

“Come in.”

“Tatsumi-san, someone from the Accounting division has written to me; perhaps we could discuss the matter?”

Work before play, duty before self – he had been taught well, thoroughly committing to a lifetime of diligent paper pushing. There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation as he got up with a brisk nod, “Certainly, Konoe-kacho.”

----

Tatsumi returned home close to midnight, all thoughts of e-mails and flirting replaced by the cool anonymity of figures, numbers pointing at yet another glaringly obvious hole in the budget. Force of habit made him think of Tsuzuki first of all, although Watari was a close second in exceeding his funds, mainly due to Tatsumi’s having severely cut his allowance.

A quick, tepid shower, then Tatsumi briskly towelled himself dry. He stopped for a moment as he dried his hair, remembering Watari yet again.

**

“You’re shivering. Give me the towel.” Firm, circular motions as Watari’s fingers pressed against the terrycloth, against his scalp, easing the tension. Swamp monsters pulling him deep into murky waters to strangle him were inconsequent for a few blissful seconds.

Watari’s body was warm against Tatsumi’s back, the contact welcome, albeit too brief. Watari pulled back, handing over the towel, and Tatsumi pulled himself together, his business mask slipping back onto his face.

--

Flashes of golden locks, wide open amber eyes, Watari lying back against the dark wood of the desk – black and gold, light and shadows, contrasts that were made for each other.

**

Tatsumi shook his head, consciously willing his mind into submission. No more thoughts of the past; he put on his pyjamas, walked into the kitchen for a glass of water and a headache pill, and then went to bed. He fell asleep to the sensory memories of silky locks brushing against his hand.

Saturday and Sunday were spent finishing up office matters, but mostly with books, soft music in the background, and the occasional break in not-thinking of Watari.

----

Clear blue skies and a frosty breeze awaited Tatsumi on Monday morning. There was just a hint of clouds travelling briskly across the pale sun.

This kind of morning stirred memories of open fireplaces, flickering flames, and candlelight; early childhood days when he had still looked forward to birthdays and presents. Tatsumi brushed the thoughts aside almost too easily with decades of practice.

Methodically, he readied his desk, turned on the computer, and set his files in order. He opened his e-mail programme, frowning slightly before quickly typing a message and sending it off without re-reading.

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: S_A
Date: 2001/12/17, Mon, 08:58
Subject: Watch your tongue
--------
Be careful whom you insult. I’ll
make a shadow parcel of you
and lock you in the lab.

Tatsumi had a meeting with Konoe-kacho half an hour later and didn’t return to his office till well past noon. He was briefly disappointed there hadn’t been a reply, then remembered Kurosaki telling him Watari was fixing Terazuma’s computer; a virus infection apparently.

Tsuzuki did, of course, have to state his opinion on this, “It’s from those X-rated adult sites Terazuma visits!”

Thankfully, Terazuma was nowhere to be seen, otherwise Tatsumi would have had to dock paycheques again for property damage inflicted. He settled for peering at Tsuzuki over the rim of his glasses; the technique was strangely effective.

“You have proof for this assumption, Tsuzuki-san?”

“Well… no, but … but where else could he have gotten a virus? We get enough junk mail in Meifu; he probably wanted a larger dick…”

“Tsuzuki!” Kurosaki’s face was a ripe shade of red, as Tatsumi noted with detached amusement.

“Language, Tsuzuki-san. It doesn’t matter how Terazuma-san’s computer got infected with a virus; it’s done now. I just hope Watari-san can fix it. The division can’t afford buying a new hard-drive.”

Tsuzuki had rolled his eyes, then laughed as Kurosaki made some grumbling noise at the back of his throat.

“Don’t you have work to do, Tsuzuki-san?”

“Ah, you know, I…”

“We were on our way.” Kurosaki knew better than to argue with Tatsumi and a firm yank on his partner’s sleeve was all it took to get Tsuzuki to follow him. As they rounded the corner, Tatsumi heard a familiar whine, “But I haven’t had dessert yet!”

----

The mail that Tatsumi hadn’t really waited for arrived the next day, with a string of yet more information requests from the Accounting division. Given that Meifu’s tax system was far less complicated than Chijou’s, Tatsumi didn’t see the point in the ridiculous nitty-gritty detail and book-keeping mayhem the Accounting division was so fond of inflicting on the other divisions.

He certainly couldn’t blame them for trying to ensure no one evaded their taxes, but after half a century of being outwitted by Tatsumi, they should know there wasn’t one possibility for tax breaks Tatsumi hadn’t yet discovered or made use of. It was a professional challenge for him – the Shokan division didn’t only pay the least legally possible amount, they also paid fewer taxes than anyone else in Meifu.

It did, however, mean that Tatsumi had to defend every single position he put in his forms; this time he spent three hours looking up all required information – mainly wading through tons of receipts courtesy of Tsuzuki and his dessert fetishism.

Once finished, Tatsumi wanted nothing more than to simply close his eyes and make it all go away. Watari’s latest e-mail had to be his reward for not letting his shadows invade and conquer the Accounting division, strangling a few particularly obtrusive people along the way.

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/18, Tue, 10:16
Re: Watch your tongue
--------
You’re cruel. Now I’m all hot and
bothered. Do you often tie your
lovers up with shadows?
Very curious, S_A

The teasing tone was familiar and intimate. It kindled a response in Tatsumi he had long thought to have mastered – desperate want, need for contact: the same emotions that had led to the incident in Kyoto.

Remembering, Tatsumi realised he no longer was in control of the little game he’d started to participate in. Watari had the upper hand, could excite, interest, fascinate him with mere words and Tatsumi had nothing to hold against it. More importantly, he just couldn’t allow himself to be this out of his depth.

He had made a mistake in replying that first time; curiosity killed the cat and now Tatsumi was in trouble. He had to make sure he gained his ground back. Therefore, he clicked ‘reply’ and typed, careful not to let any images of Watari’s pale skin wreathed in shadows, golden hair entwined with black mist interfere with the rapid tapping of his fingers on the keyboard.

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/18, Tue, 10:34
Re: Re: Watch your tongue
--------
I believe we’re going too far,
Watari-san. I won’t let a moment
of weakness get in the way of
our professional life.
We’re both adults and Kyoto
is best forgotten.

Tatsumi clicked ‘send’ and leant back in his chair. He pushed his glasses further up his nose, closing his eyes. He briefly considered going to the laboratory and talking to Watari in person, but then decided against it.

Watari’s presence had seduced him into letting his guard down once, he couldn’t afford another such moment of weakness. Acknowledging there had been something between them was a mistake. They were both adults and Kyoto was best forgotten; he only had to remind himself of this.

----

Watari stared at the screen with a frown. Tatsumi had seemed to actually enjoy the game he’d started, beginning to reply to the messages, allowing some teasing. It had been a little flirtatious, even, and Watari had enjoyed it – perhaps a little too much.

He’d hoped to be able to draw Tatsumi out of his shell, rediscover the man who had leant over him in Kyoto, sharp blue eyes bright with desire, breath coming in short gasps – aroused, needy, laid bare – stunning and thrilling.

“What do you think, 003? Should I give up? Or should I fight?”

The small owl hooted, fluffing her chest as she hopped upwards, waving her delicate wings as if ready to take flight. Watari laughed, “Fight it is; mind you, if he cuts my budget I’m holding you responsible for it!”

Too much teasing had scared Tatsumi off, perhaps some honesty was called for. The little devil inside Watari couldn’t resist a few insinuations, though.

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/18, Tue, 10:42
Subject: Spoilsport
--------
I’ve got an impeccable memory,
and I liked it too much to forget.
Your mentioning it says you’re
still thinking about it, too. We are
adults, so we should accept it
and move on, take a step forward.
If you want to stop my teasing,
come and make me. Btw, what
aroused you more: the pointer
or me calling you “Sensei”?
PS: Watari wants his research
funds, therefore has no opinion
on any of this. S_A is naughty,
though, and uncontrollable, there-
fore, he’s fun.

003 landed on Watari’s shoulder, re-reading the e-mail along with him and voicing her approval with three short hoots.

“Hm, so let’s see what my favourite secretary has to say to this…” Watari clicked on ‘send’, chuckling softly.

----

“…come and make me…” Tatsumi stopped reading – again – on that particular line. Watari’s response hadn’t been terribly surprising; determination bordering on intense stubbornness was one of Watari’s more obvious character traits.

Tatsumi couldn’t have explained why these words were so special. Perhaps it was having them in front of him, in impersonal black on white, on a screen – while the message they contained was so intimate.

Watari was teasing, yet again, but there was a subtext to the e-mail. Tatsumi wasn’t well versed in reading between the lines, although he understood well enough that Watari wasn’t prepared to let him off this easily. Kyoto had happened and couldn’t be brushed aside.

Was he glad that Watari was addressing the issue? And could he really interpret the e-mail as an offer to repeat their tryst? It seemed like Watari wouldn’t be entirely unwilling to have Tatsumi ‘come and make him’ –
– stop, of course.

The messages had to stop, this game had to stop, because Tatsumi was way out of his depth now, the teasing was ruffling him too much, making him remember why he made a point of not getting involved with anyone. Letting go equalled trouble and a certain unpredictability and both were things that Tatsumi despised.

He didn’t click the ‘reply’ button although the mouse pointer hovered about it for almost a minute while Tatsumi made up his mind. He didn’t drop by at the laboratory either, nor did he make any other attempt to talk to Watari about the matter; he just hadn’t got any idea what to say – silence would have to speak for him.

----

“No response, girl, can you believe it? He’s brushing me off and I know he’s at least intrigued, cause he’s still got those darn mails in his inbox.”

Being the supportive lab assistant she was, 003 hooted and flapped her wings in assent. Watari smiled, turning back to his computer – he had to admit that checking Tatsumi’s inbox via a complicated password-evading scheme had not merely been a challenge to himself, but also a necessary evil. He’d been far too curious to know if Tatsumi had erased any and all reminders of their brief e-mail flirt.

Now knowing that Tatsumi had kept all messages, Watari was feeling slightly less put out. While Tatsumi didn’t give the least indication they’d ever done more than talk about work, the weather, and their respective co-workers, Watari could safely assume that it was a deliberate slight to stop him from reminding Tatsumi he was a fallible man with needs and desires.

And knowing Tatsumi, his proud denial would not let him make a comment on further choice, spicy messages. If they kept fluttering into his inbox, in denial of Tatsumi’s denial, Tatsumi might just explode. A wicked little grin settled firmly around the corners of Watari’s mouth as he began to type.

Exactly a week remained till Tatsumi’s birthday and he would be getting an e-mail every day. If his little plan succeeded, Watari would organise the grand finale of their mainly one-sided cyber-conversation on December twenty-seventh, at his place and, preferably, in his bed.

----

The Accounting division had finally given up, conceding defeat to Tatsumi at last – or so it felt to him when their message came, forwarded by Konoe, with a few lines addressed to Tatsumi:

From: Konoe-kacho
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/20, Thu, 10:15
Subject: accounts
--------
Tatsumi-san,
The Accounting division has, without reserve, accepted our profit and loss statement, the balance sheet, and next year’s budget. You have, again, saved us a goodly amount of yen. Congratulations.
Konoe-kacho

Now Tatsumi could be satisfied with another job well done and take it a little easier; the end-of-year work-load had been reduced drastically by a good seventy percent and it was back to focusing on filing reports and ensuring that all paperwork for the past year’s cases had been finished and handed in.

He decided to grant himself lunch and strolled to the break room. Kurosaki was sitting beside Tsuzuki, staring with undisguised horror at his partner’s almost spotlessly clean plate.

“How can you eat so quickly?” he finally said. Tsuzuki’s fork clattered onto the table, as he looked up, surprised.

“I was hungry, of course.”

“Doesn’t your stomach rebel against … oh, no, of course, you’re a bottomless pit.” The boy’s voice was far too mild to give edge to the words.

Tsuzuki laughed, throwing an arm across Kurosaki’s shoulders, “You should try it sometime – bottomless pit-style eating, I mean. Would do you good. You’re too bony.”

Tatsumi had to stifle a smile at the helpless blush rising to the boy’s cheeks as his partner nudged his side.

“Cute, aren’t they?” Tatsumi managed not to jump, though he was startled by Watari’s low voice in his ear, “And they don’t even realise just how obvious they are.”

“I believe this is none of our business, Watari-san,” Tatsumi drew back, putting the length of the room between them as he strode towards the coffee machine. Watari mumbled something and seemed about to follow him, when Terazuma came in, casting a glance around the room, “Oy, lovebirds, get a room!”

Kurosaki reddened further, achieving the shade of a ripe tomato; Tsuzuki pulled back, glaring daggers at Terazuma, “Your online porn not enough to keep you occupied?”

Property damage loomed before Tatsumi’s inner eye and he raised his voice imperiously, “Stop it, both of you, or I’m going to dock your paycheques; in fact, if you continue this mindless argument, I will see to it you have extra work – unpaid, of course.” His threat was enough to bring a certain stilted quiet to the room, but it was Watari who broke the tension.

“Tsuzuki, Bon, want to come along when I test my new invention? It’s a machine that catalogues books automatically – I was going to do a test run in my lab.”

Kurosaki looked mildly interested, prodding Tsuzuki as he got up, “Let’s go, idiot.” There was no protest from the older man, although he kept glaring at Terazuma, who returned the unpleasant stare. Watari waved Kurosaki and Tsuzuki out the door, casting a quick glance across his shoulder to wink at Tatsumi.

Alone with the ex-detective, Tatsumi cut straight to the point, “Terazuma-san, I believe it is time we talked about the problem you have with Tsuzuki-san.”

“He’s a devil with a loose mouth. Just defending myself.”

“I believe Tsuzuki-san is neither the sole source nor the sole victim of the tension between you. You both react badly to one another at the best of times, but the last weeks have been ridiculous. I think it were better this were dealt with swiftly.”

Tatsumi straightened his glasses, pleased to notice that Terazuma seemed a little uneasy at his direct gaze. While unable to get the same panicky reaction Kannuki did, instant contrition was definitely a good start.

“It’s not something I want to talk about.”

“If you do not wish to talk to me, I will ask Watari-san to mediate in this dispute, or relay the whole business to Konoe-kacho. I can’t allow the working climate to deteriorate because of your and Tsuzuki-san’s childish antics.”

“He’s the one being childish, he just …”

“Yes?”

“Nothing. Forget it. I’ve got work to do,” Terazuma’s hands were nervously twirling a cigarette before placing it between his lips, lighting it. He inclined his head gruffly, stalking out of the room.

Tatsumi sighed; he would definitely have to talk to Konoe-kacho about this – it was unacceptable to have Terazuma and Tsuzuki fighting the moment they caught sight of each other. The level of damage they were capable of inflicting on each other and the division was impressive and Tatsumi didn’t want to have a full-scale war between two powerful Shinigami on his hands.

----

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/20, Thu, 12:35
Subject: break room
--------
Tsuzuki didn’t say a word to Bon and me,
just glared. I asked Bon to talk to Tsuzuki
and figure out what’s wrong though.
Terazuma’s been moodier than usual of
late. I think he and Wakaba have been
having a bit of a quarrel about private stuff.
She might tell me if I ask nicely and I’ll get
back to you on this.
PS: Have had naughty thoughts about
you. *grin*

As if the e-mail weren’t annoying enough, Watari had chosen to up the offence by further employing his useless alias. Tatsumi contemplated just deleting the message, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, printing it instead. After folding it and slipping it into his pocket, he took a deep breath. Watari had to have some ulterior motive for reminding him of his misstep in Kyoto – the emphasis on “naughty” wasn’t lost on Tatsumi – but he couldn’t for the death of him figure out what it might be.

----

“Hey, Wakaba, can I have a word?” Watari’s smile was disarming, although he doubted he could lure this particular woman into talking to him if she wasn’t inclined. Wakaba looked like a schoolgirl, but she was one of the strongest and most stubborn women Watari had ever met, rivalling even his grandmother.

Wakaba put down her pen, “Of course, Watari! Is it about Hajime?” She swivelled her chair around to look at Watari, giving him a smile.

“Yeah, he’s been getting in trouble with Tsuzuki again – no property damage, but still.”

Watari took a quick look at Wakaba’s desk: papers stacked neatly on the right side, leaving only enough room for her computer. He leant against the side of her desk, crossing his arms.

Wakaba sighed and shook her head, “Hajime’s angry with me because I told him,” her eyes flicked up, quickly scanning the empty room, “I said it might be better if we weren’t partners any longer.”

Ouch, now that was a reason for Terazuma to be grumpy. The man was fiercely jealous and protective of his partner, bordering on possessiveness. Being told she no longer wanted him surely hurt, and not just his pride, “So he’s getting upset over Bon and Tsuzuki flirting, right?”

Wakaba nodded, “Among other things, yes. They’re getting all cosy and, well, you know it’s something Hajime can’t have, with his liking women and his Shiki...”

Watari bent down, placing a hand on Wakaba’s shoulder, the other lifting her jaw, “You don’t want to work with him any longer?”

“I’m tired, Watari. He likes me, I know that; a lot, more than a partner even, although he won’t say it. He doesn’t dare. And I like him so much, too, and there’s no way we can ever be together. It’s just hopeless.”

“Are you sure? There may be a way, a potion, a spell…”

“No, Watari. I don’t think this is fair on either Hajime or myself. It’s better we ended it.”

“Even if you’re both more miserable than before? Having something might be better than having nothing at all.”

Wakaba turned her head to the side, dislodging Watari’s hand, “Leave it be, Watari. I don’t know if I have the strength to just be friends any more; forever’s a long time and to live without ever having him touch me… I’m not sure I could take that – seeing him every day and knowing he can’t be with me.”

“I understand.” There was warmth and pity in Watari’s tone.

“I’ll talk to Hajime and ask him to pull himself together. Perhaps you could ask Tsuzuki to quit making insinuations about Hajime looking at, at adult sites,” she blushed, “It drives Hajime crazy and it’s really bad, considering…”

”I’ll talk to Tsuzuki, don’t worry. I’ll find a way to make him behave,” Watari winked, then became serious once more, “If you want to talk, you know where I am.”

“Yes, thank you. But I’m fine, Watari. I’ve thought about this for a while. I’ll probably ask Konoe-kacho for a transfer before New Year’s.”

Watari nodded, quickly brushing his hand against Wakaba’s cheek. She looked very young just then, very much like a little girl, even though her back was straight and her eyes sparkled with fierce determination.

“I’ll let Tatsumi know we’re taking care of the matter. Without mentioning any details, of course.”

“Of course,” Wakaba turned her chair back towards her desk and Watari quickly left the office to give her some privacy.

----

“Come in,” Tatsumi’s voice was cool and business-like in response to the knock and he didn’t look up as his door opened.

“Just wanted to tell you Wakaba and I are on to Terazuma and Tsuzuki.”

“Alright. Thank you, Watari-san.”

Watari’s brow furrowed, although he left without further comment. This scheme of ignoring him was getting old – if Tatsumi thought it was any use, he would learn otherwise. And since Watari was playing with fire, there was no reason why he couldn’t stoke it a little.

----

Friday the twenty-first – fog and rain so thick there was nothing but a grey soup visible when one looked out of the window.

Tatsumi didn’t mind too much, considering that there wouldn’t be any covert glances at the world outside the office during the morning meeting. Konoe-kacho had called the division together so Tatsumi could impart news of profits and loss, balances and budgets.

It wasn’t a well-loved subject and most certainly not one where much attention was going to be paid to the speaker, but it was a tradition to share information with employees and Konoe-kacho insisted upon it.

When Tatsumi arrived, Konoe-kacho and Kurosaki were already present, with Tsuzuki rushing through the door a few moments later, brushing past Tatsumi hastily and flopping down at Kurosaki’s side.

“Morning Hisoka! Did you sleep well? I did, thanks to you!”

Kurosaki’s face reddened as he kicked Tsuzuki under the table; Tatsumi suppressed a smile as well as his curiosity. Tsuzuki’s words could mean many things and Terazuma already stood in the doorway, grinning evilly and seemingly on the verge of making a comment when Kannuki tugged at his sleeve, angrily hissing, “Hajime-san!”

Tatsumi put his papers on the table, arranging them in stacks along with the handouts, ready to be distributed. He noticed Terazuma and Kannuki settling across the room from Tsuzuki and Kurosaki. Tatsumi just hoped it would be enough to ensure the meeting wasn’t interrupted by further ill placed remarks.

“Tatsumi-san, you dropped your pointer,” Konoe-kacho held it out to him and he flushed against his will. He managed a curt nod as he took it; perhaps he shouldn’t have brought it, habit or not. Watari would be attending the meeting and he absolutely did not want any recollections to disturb him.

“Good morning!” Fukiya and Torii had arrived, waving madly and squealing as soon as they caught sight of Kurosaki – predictably, they were seated at his side moments later, chatting, while Kurosaki suffered in gruff silence.

“Yuma, Saya, give Hisoka some room!” Tsuzuki’s chair scraped backwards and he pushed it between the girls and his partner. Kurosaki blushed, but Tatsumi’s attention was diverted from the girls’ responses and Tsuzuki’s further antics by Watari’s cheerful greeting.

The scientist moved past him, white lab coat trailing in his wake, and perched on the edge of a table at the far end of the room, smiling. He was right across from Tatsumi, in his line of sight. Tatsumi straightened his glasses, avoiding eye contact.

“Good morning. Thank you for coming to hear our budget report. Now that we’re all here, I’ll hand over to Tatsumi-san,” Konoe-kacho settled down comfortably in his chair and Tatsumi stepped to the middle of the room, reaching for his pointer without thought.

He straightened the laptop and the projector, clicked a few buttons with the mouse, and checked the picture on the wall behind him. Tables, figures, and percentages – he smiled as he turned his full attention back to his co-workers, “This morning’s meeting will address our yearly statements as well as the budget for next year. I’m happy to inform you…”

Tatsumi spoke briskly, using his pointer to illustrate the points he made. His eyes came to rest on every person in the room in turn, before finally ending up on Watari. The scientist smiled at him as he slowly leaned back on his hands, upper body stretching, the flex of muscles visible under the black tank top as his lab coat fell open; no pullover – only black cloth stretched just tight enough across his chest to enhance its definition. Tatsumi’s brows drew together.

A quick flick of tongue across Watari’s half-open mouth, head cocked to the side, blond locks tumbling across his shoulder and down his back. He had lost his hair tie again. Tatsumi kept on speaking, using the rational, professional part of his brain to pass over his body’s unconscious reaction to the little display in front of him.

Watari’s legs parted slightly as he leaned back a little more, eyes fixed on Tatsumi, smiling innocuously. The black top rode up just a bit, revealing a strip of pale flesh above black jeans. Tight black jeans, emphasising the long, slim legs; Tatsumi remembered the flexing of Watari’s thigh muscles under his hands, constrained under black denim.

Watari’s smile deepened as he observed Tatsumi’s slightly wavering concentration. Kurosaki’s head turned to the back quickly, taking in Watari’s pose; his eyes widened and his attention passed back to the front. Tatsumi noticed and glared. He finished his report more quickly than was his wont and Konoe-kacho dismissed everyone within half an hour.

----

A teasing nuisance that was what Watari was. Tatsumi stormed into his office, closing the door a little too swiftly behind him, dropping his files onto the desk, the pointer clattering as it fell on the wooden surface. He gave it a death glare, moving quickly around the desk to sit down. He reminded himself to breathe deeply, counted to ten – his hands flat on the polished surface – and banished the image of Watari, so natural and uninhibited and so very desirable.

A few minute later, Tatsumi was again ensconced in his work, but his concentration was broken by his mail alert. He hit ‘read’ forcefully when he saw who his newest incoming message was from.

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/21, Fri, 10:13
Subject: meeting
--------
I take it you liked my little display. Very
impressive glares you levelled at me, too.
I’d be scared, but really, Tatsumi, you
should know your passion is tempting
rather than frightening me.
It’s your own fault anyway -- I hate being
ignored.
Happily remembering, S_A

It was merely a reflex that made Tatsumi hit ‘print’. He decided there was no reason to think about the whole situation now, when there was work to do. He could consider it later that evening. The message was folded and put into his pocket; it would end up where all its predecessors had – in the drawer of Tatsumi’s bedside table.

----

“Tsuzuki, can I have a word?”

“If there’s a potion involved, then no.” A wink took the sting out of the words and Watari laughed.

“No potion, promise. Think Bon can spare you a moment?”

Tsuzuki grimaced, shifting his armload of case files against his hip, “He sent me to the GuShouShin to ask them to look up tons of things. I don’t think ten minutes will hurt, or fifteen. Can we go to the break room though? I couldn’t grab a hold of any pastries at lunch, Hisoka took them away.”

“It’s a personal matter, Tsuzuki. But I could bring you a pastry or two while you’re waiting for the GuShouShin to finish.”

“You’re just conspiring with Hisoka.”

A laugh, “Better to have Bon on my good side; he’s scary when he’s angry.”

“To the lab, then?”

“Yeah.”

They walked in companionable silence and Tsuzuki chuckled when Watari held the door open for him, striding into the lab confidently and flopping down in the nearest chair.

“So what’re we talking about? If it’s my sex life, I don’t have one.”

“Not yet,” Watari intoned smugly and Tsuzuki blushed and coughed, “actually, I wanted to talk to you about Terazuma.”

“Oh. He’s irritable of late.”

“You’re not making it better by teasing him. Listen, I know it gives you a kick to get under his skin – normally, property damage’s likely to be kinda limited too – but what you pulled the last time; Tatsumi’s none too pleased.”

“He told me so.”

Watari stepped forward a little, debating on how much to tell Tsuzuki, without letting anything slip about Wakaba and Terazuma’s current crisis.

“Do you think you could be a little more … accommodating? You don’t have to tease him about adult sites and stuff – with his Shiki, you *know* it’s a sore point.”

“He says things about me and Hisoka too; it’s not as if he’s shy. And he’s nothing if not blunt and direct if he wants to be.”

An idea formed and Watari sighed, a little too dramatically, perhaps, “Think of Wakaba; it’s bad for her – constantly having to watch Terazuma’s back. She’s fond of him and it’s putting a strain on her. She can’t be round the two of you all the time; perhaps you could lay off of Terazuma a bit, for Wakaba?”

“There’s more to this, right?”

“I could ask Bon to keep an eye on you, but I don’t think it’s fair to pull too many people into what is essentially a matter between you and Terazuma.”

“You’re evading the question.”

“Tsuzuki, please.”

“Alright, I’ll try, for Wakaba. And to keep you out of trouble – Tatsumi put you up to this, didn’t he? Afraid of more damages that he’d have to take out of hapless employees’ wages.”

Watari shrugged non-committally, smiling. It was a concession and it was by far better to have Tsuzuki thinking Tatsumi was the sole reason to keep out of trouble. There’d be less questions and a readier acquiescence from Tsuzuki when faced with Tatsumi’s wrath.

----

Tatsumi had had every intention of pondering Watari’s lack of proper etiquette and possible ways to make the teasing stop once and for all, without having to actually face the other man in person.

However, at the end of the day, he’d been too exhausted. He’d had a quick dinner of fried rice, listened to the news on the radio, and spent an hour reading the collected works of Oscar Wilde. He liked fiction, although he usually preferred the sensible rationality of non-fiction books – history or facts. But he enjoyed the humour of Wilde’s plays; dry and irreverent, it suited and amused him.

Still, Tatsumi hadn’t spent a long time smiling over “The Importance of Being Earnest” that night, as sleep demanded its due very quickly.

----

Waking the following morning, Tatsumi decided to give the e-mail flirting careful thought. He knew he had to do something, react in one way or the other. If he didn’t, Watari would blissfully continue – to eternity and beyond, if need be, until he was acknowledged. Persistence was a wonderful thing, unless one was on the receiving end of it.

‘Kyoto was a mistake. We’re both adults, it’s best forgotten.’

So easy to say, but so difficult to convince Watari. Tatsumi wasn’t sure if he was convinced by it, either. Surely, Kyoto had been a mistake in that it had destroyed the careful balance of their colleagues/friends relationship. Moreover, it was unacceptable behaviour on a mission.

And yet they were adults and sexual relations in themselves were nothing they hadn’t experienced before. Tatsumi might not have dared voice that sometimes domination or power gave him a heady rush of something, be it pleasure or satisfaction. He knew he had wishes, perhaps even needs that were not entirely acceptable, at least hadn’t been acceptable for his other partners.

Watari hadn’t minded the little fantasy, had encouraged it even and Tatsumi had enjoyed it far too much. He had relished the feeling of control and power, never realising just how little control he actually had. Watari had held him, pulled his strings, let him go again. So damned good, so hopelessly impossible.

The crux of the matter was that Tatsumi didn’t only think of that afternoon in Kyoto; he actually relished the thought – privately, secretly, and a little guiltily. Deep down, he knew he wouldn’t resist, couldn’t resist, should Watari give him the opportunity to repeat their tryst.

And this was why he had to pull back. Tatsumi Seiichirou didn’t allow himself weaknesses. Weakness lead to downfall and downfall lead to suffering. There was room for neither in his afterlife, his carefully controlled little world.

Watari should be told this, would not otherwise accept an abrupt dismissal without reasons. He was a scientist, he searched for answers to each and every puzzle he encountered. Now, Tatsumi was his puzzle and he wanted a solution.

Writing a letter with a detailed explanation was out of the question – it was impossible for Tatsumi to lay himself bare and offer proof for it, black on white. No, the only way to make Watari understand, to ensure he let them both put Kyoto behind them, was to talk to him in person.

And this was the one thing Tatsumi most feared – the intoxicating memories Watari could so easily evoke with his very presence, the desires and the needs kept hidden and suppressed for decades.

Therefore, Tatsumi decided to wait, the coward’s way out, but perhaps it would be easier, perhaps Watari would cease on his own, lose interest in pursuing someone who was so obviously not interested. The hope was dim and brittle even as he voiced it to himself and some perverse little part of Tatsumi’s mind was glad for it.

----

A weekend off with dismal weather that perfectly corresponded to his dreary thoughts. Tatsumi was glad to leave his flat early on Monday morning. He hadn’t truly resolved his personal problem, but he’d at least made a decision on how to proceed; it was something.

Breezing into the break room, Tatsumi grabbed a cup of coffee and holed himself up in his office. He turned on the computer and took up the nearest file, contemplating lecturing Terazuma about his sloppy handwriting in official reports in the past weeks, when his mail alert sounded.

Two clicks later, Tatsumi was confronted with, not one, but two e-mails from Watari, written on the weekend.

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/22, Sat, 17:23
Subject: guess…
--------
I’ve just come from a long, hot shower,
during which I entertained very improper
and exciting thoughts about you -- *wink*.
But I won’t pain your eyes with racy sexual
fantasies of mine. Not yet, at any rate.
Sleep well, S_A

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/23, Sun, 19:12
Subject: Kyoto
--------
I loved the way you stared at me. You
looked … hungry, needy – it was damn
sexy. Your eyes were so deep and blue,
so passionate.
I think about you when I touch myself. I
even kidnapped your spare pointer
(ransom: a night with you; I know you
won’t pay up so I’m keeping it *grin*).
It’s not quite the same as you holding it,
of course, Sensei, but I make do.
Do you think of me too, at night, in the
shadows where no one can see you?
Do you touch yourself and imagine me
on that table?
If you do, kudos for your impeccable
taste *winks*. If not, you’re missing
out on something exciting ;D.
See you next week, S_A

It was the second e-mail that made Tatsumi flush, not only from the contents, but from his hand, which had without his permission trailed lightly across his crotch, pressed down on his cock and balls, cupping them through his trousers. It took a conscious effort (and a death-grip on his letter opener, which sliced painfully into his skin) to bring Tatsumi’s mind out of the gutter, back to the present, and into his office.

There was a cut on his palm, which healed swiftly in front of his eyes. Tatsumi dabbed blood away with this handkerchief, frowning at the red marring its pristine whiteness. He shifted in his chair to ease the ache in his groin, starting when he heard the printer turn itself on. He hadn’t realised he’d hit the button.

Tatsumi’s hand shook a little as he grabbed the incriminating paper, folding it quickly and sloppily before cramming it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He clicked on ‘delete’, angry with himself for his reaction.

Watari was a tease and a fool, but it was Tatsumi who let him get away with it, let him play. It was Tatsumi’s desire that encouraged inappropriate reactions to something that should only have annoyed him. Talking to Watari was out of the question now.

----

Watari was working on Terazuma’s computer (yet again) to finally identify the source of the mysterious virus he’d managed to get on his machine. It bothered Watari that the virus was so difficult to trace – it meant that whoever had written the programme had been very good at it. For Watari, this meant a matter of professional dignity – figure out the source and eliminate it or admit defeat; the latter not being an option, of course.

He was so engrossed in his keyboard tapping and murmuring as numbers, signs, and letters flashed in rapid succession across the screen that he failed to notice Wakaba until she waved her hand in front of his face. To his credit, he only jumped, suppressing the squeal of surprise he was on the point of uttering.

“Hello. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not really; just tinkering with Terazuma’s computer. What can I do for you, milady?” Watari tried for a rakish grin, but it was lost on Wakaba. He sobered quickly, “Trouble?”

“I’d like if you could … I mean, if it’s not too much trouble perhaps you could come to see Tatsumi-san with me as back-up. He won’t like my asking for a transfer and he can be so scary if he wants to be.”

While he would usually have jumped at the opportunity to see Tatsumi, Watari wasn’t particularly keen on facing the other man at that moment, given the last e-mail he’d written. He’d re-read it only after it had been sent and been less than happy with it. He had told nothing but the truth, but it seemed that he’d been a bit too forward, his tongue running away with him before his brain could catch up. Tatsumi probably hadn’t much appreciated the pictures he’d been given.

But Wakaba was still waiting and Watari couldn’t turn her request down, although it might have been considerably more pleasant for him to remain in his lab, out of Tatsumi’s sight until he had cooled off.

“Sure, I’ll come with you. Shall we go straight away?”

“During lunch break, perhaps, if that suits you? Hajime’s in the office now, but he’s got some personal errands to run, and he usually does that in his lunch hour.”

“Lunch it is, then. Just knock on the door.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Watari laid a hand on Wakaba’s arm very briefly, a light, reassuring touch. She didn’t even smile, just brushing past him and quickly leaving the lab. 003 hooted softly as she flew down from her perch on one of the shelves.

“Yeah, poor thing. I just hope I can help; my presence might do more harm than good. I’m sure Tatsumi’s a bit riled up about that e-mail. And really, it’s your fault, too. You could’ve let me know I was getting carried away.”

The little owl fluffed her tiny chest and huffed her indignation at such an accusation. Watari mock-frowned, “What do you mean, you can’t proof-read my mails anymore?”

A series of short, brisk hoots, “Embarrassing? My, 003, I never thought of you as a prude!”

That earned Watari a squeak and mad fluttering dive that ruffled his hair. 003 sailed down onto the table and nipped at his finger with her sharp beak.

“Ouch, I’m sorry, all right. I just can’t help needing a little angel to keep my devil in check. And I have no one but you. I rely on your tact and sharp observation.”

Watari’s praise flattered the little owl and she gave a soft swish of her wings against the back of his hand, accepting the apology. Watari smiled, tapping a finger lightly against her beak, then onto her head, “Right, let’s get back to work then, shall we? You don’t happen to have any ideas on how I can destroy that virus?”

----

Tatsumi looked up when a knock came on his door, glancing briefly at the clock as he called his visitor in. 12:04, lunch hour, and the person he least wanted to see at the moment, namely Watari, dropping in for a visit with Kannuki.

“Tatsumi-san,” Kannuki bowed, “I hope we are not disturbing you.”

“No, not at all. What can I do for you, Kannuki-san, Watari-san?”

Watari exchanged a glance with Kannuki and stepped forward, facing Tatsumi, making eye contact, “Tatsumi, Wakaba has a request to make. She’d like a transfer, that is, she’d like to be assigned to a new partner.”

“Is that so?”

Kannuki nodded; she knew it had been a good idea to have Watari speak for her. Formalities like this weren’t all that common in the Shokan division, but since this was a very formal and quite important request it was probably better to stand on ceremony to give it more weight.

“I hadn’t been aware there were problems between Kannuki-san and Terazuma-san.” Tatsumi addressed his statement to Kannuki, although he retained eye contact with Watari, who promptly answered.

“It’s not a problem, per se, rather a personal matter which Wakaba feels is beginning to leak into hers and Terazuma’s working relationship. She would like to end the partnership before their performance as a team is affected.”

Tatsumi righted his glasses, “I see. May I ask what Terazuma-san’s opinion on this is?”

“I have talked to him. He knows we’re not operating together as smoothly and efficiently as we used to and he also knows that we … that I think we can’t work around it.” Kannuki bit her lip, glancing first at Watari, then Tatsumi.

“But he hasn’t yet considered changing partners?” Tatsumi prompted.

“Actually, Tatsumi, Wakaba and Terazuma talked about it and well, this is what has had Terazuma in such a bad mood. I guess it’d be a good thing to end this matter before it has the possibility to result in more … damage.”

There was more that he wasn’t privy too and, in all likelihood, wouldn’t be told. Tatsumi spoke up briskly, “I will consider the matter. Perhaps you and Terazuma-san could come to my office tomorrow morning and we will talk further,” he gave Kannuki a curt nod, “I don’t think Watari-san’s presence will be required.”

“Thank you, Tatsumi-san. Hajime and I will come to see you tomorrow then.” Kannuki bowed and retreated. Watari held the door open for her, whispering something into her ear. He closed the door behind her and turned back to Tatsumi.

“Was there anything else, Watari-san?” Out of many things, Tatsumi didn’t relish being alone with Watari in the current situation.

“Listen, I know it seems strange, but Wakaba has good reasons for wanting a transfer. Terazuma knows and understands, although he isn’t happy and isn’t likely to accept this with good grace.”

“I haven’t yet permitted the transfer, Watari-san.”

“It won’t be forever. I think that … I guess if Wakaba and Terazuma are separated for a while they’ll start missing each other and maybe that’s enough to make their current situation more bearable.”

“A probation period?”

“Yes. I thought perhaps the Hokkaido duo. I doubt it would be wise to part Tsuzuki and Bon – their cases are usually the worst and they depend on each other so much. Saya and Yuma will be less trouble.”

“They’re inseparable,” Tatsumi’s brow furrowed, “However, I see your point. I will consider this, Watari-san. Thank you for your input.” Calm, professional demeanour – Tatsumi’s weapon of choice, a dismissal that Watari acknowledged with a slight frown.

“My pleasure. I’ll see you around.”

Moments later, Tatsumi was alone and telling his heart to stop beating so fast. Watari had winked at him as he left, from behind strands of blond hair, tumbling every which way across his shoulders. Images returned, which Tatsumi quenched ruthlessly.

About two hours later, Tatsumi checked his inbox. Finding another message from S_A, his first impulse was to delete it. Curiosity won out, however, and he scanned it swiftly, half expecting a detailed listing of carnal sins. It turned out to be a fairly innocent e-mail, though, and Tatsumi didn’t want to analyse his slight disappointment.

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/24, Mon, 14:56
Subject: your birthday
--------
No matter how much you glare at
everyone, Tsuzuki’s organised a
party for you and you can’t escape.
You’ll like it, promise, just stop
protesting and try to enjoy yourself.
We want you to have a good time.
Also, I thought you might like to come
round to my place for dinner on the
27th to rest from the commotion and
also as a little peace offering on my
part. I’ll whip up a surprise dinner --
no potions, no burnt food. Shall we
say 20:00?
And ‘no’ is only an option if you have
a hot date that isn’t me *wink*.
Happy thoughts, S_A

The print command was given without second thought. So Watari wanted a date? Was that what he was offering, or was it just a dinner amongst friends? Tatsumi wasn’t sure what to think and, in the end, resolved not to think about it at all and to deal with it when it was inevitable, on his birthday.

----

“Kannuki-san, Terazuma-san, please take a seat.”

“I’d rather stand.” Terazuma looked more grumpy than usual and he was studiously avoiding looking at his partner. Tatsumi didn’t comment, instead waiting for Kannuki to settle into one of the chairs across from his desk. She was pale. Perhaps Watari had been right in suggesting only a temporary separation.

“I have considered reassigning you – it wasn’t an easy decision, given that I can’t at will break apart other partnerships and we haven’t had any new colleagues of late. You will understand that I can’t assign both of you to desk duties either.”

A brief look at both Kannuki and Terazuma confirmed they were listening to him and Tatsumi continued, “I have therefore decided on a temporary assignment. You will both remain in charge of your sector; Kannuki-san will continue on active duty and work her cases with Torii-san. Terazuma-san, you will be put on desk duty. Should Torii-san be required in Hokkaido, a different partner will be found for Kannuki-san.”

“You must be kidding! Are you punishing me for my Shiki or what?”

“Kannuki-san is the only one who can return you to your human form, Terazuma-san. I can’t take responsibility for the consequences of your transformation while on a job.”

“What about the boy? I could work with him.”

“Due to current tensions, Kurosaki-kun is out of the question. Your relations with Tsuzuki-san are strained and if I assigned his partner to you I would make matters worse.”

“What about Watari? Keep Kannuki-san at her desk if she wants to or send her off with Saya – I don’t give a damn,” Kannuki flinched, “let Watari work with me, he isn’t doing anything productive in his lab and Kyoto’s quiet anyway.”

“Hajime-san!” Kannuki looked up at her partner, red spots on her cheeks, hands clenching on the arms of her chair.

Tatsumi pushed his glasses further up his nose as he rose in one fluid movement, leaning forward slightly onto his desk, fingers splayed on the dark wood. His voice was dangerously low and calm and the shadows behind him twitched threateningly, “The decision has been made, Terazuma-san, and the necessary papers are already on Konoe-kacho’s desk. You will take up your new assignments from tomorrow onwards. As for Watari-san: he cannot be spared at his current place of work and I would ask you to defer to your superiors’ judgement on matters of personnel.”

A retort was upon Terazuma’s lips, but Kannuki’s hand on his sleeve quieted him. He glared at her, then frowned in Tatsumi’s direction, eyes glowing.

“Fine. Suit yourself.” With that he turned around abruptly, striding out of the office without another word and closing the door forcibly behind him.

“Please excuse Hajime-san’s behaviour, Tatsumi-san, he’s not … taking this very well and …”

“I’m aware of this, Kannuki-san. Please be ready to meet with Torii-san this afternoon. I have assigned her temporary quarters in your district.”

“Thank you.”

“I will see you later, then.” Tatsumi moved past his desk to open the door for Kannuki and she inclined her head politely as she left. She obviously was as unhappy as Terazuma about the change in partners, although she had been the one to request a transfer. Tatsumi was curious as to what the problem actually was, but apart from the two, only Watari knew and he was unlikely to tell anyone, least of all Tatsumi.

----

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/25, Tue, 16:23
Subject: glares
--------
You’re worse than Bon at times.
Tsuzuki was just hanging up
mistletoe -- don't begrudge him wanting
to catch Bon, you *know* you want to
see Bon blush and grumble as much
as everyone else.
Wakaba told me about the meeting.
I’m glad you agreed with me. I’m sure
they'll want to be back together in a
month or two.
Btw, if you think that being grumpy will
make me take back that invitation for
your birthday, you’re wrong. We’ve
known each other for more than 20
years. You should know you can trust
me; it’s not too late to get some
joy out of your after-life.
So, prepare to have dinner with me.
I’m not letting you off the hook.
Take it like a man, S_A

The frown on Tatsumi’s face deepened as he read the e-mail, thinking back to the break room incident during lunch hour. He had gone to get himself a cup of coffee and been faced with Tsuzuki, on a ladder, hanging up boughs of mistletoe with red ribbons all over the room. The hall had also seen the full extent of his decoration skills.

“Might I ask what you are doing, Tsuzuki-san?”

“Oh, Tatsumi, I’m just putting up some mistletoe. It looks nice and it’s not as expensive as … as … other decorations and we need something for your birthday party, don’t you agree?”

“Mistletoe isn’t exactly an usual birthday decoration, Tsuzuki-san.”

“That’s because he’s got an ulterior motive.” Kurosaki suddenly stood beside Tatsumi, arms crossed, frown firmly in place. That perpetual grumpiness really was unsuited to his youthful features.

“I see.”

“But … it’s not … I just thought it’d be nice … and … no one’s got to let themselves be kissed if they don’t want, but if they do, then it’s no problem. And I talked to the others and they said it’s ok and ..:”

“Tsuzuki, stop whining.” Kurosaki sounded about as friendly as a glacier.

“But, Hisoka, I …”

“Stop it!”

“You’re mean!”

Telltale signs of tears appeared in Tsuzuki’s eyes and he looked like a kicked puppy. Tatsumi wondered briefly if he ever looked as terrifying and haughty as Kurosaki did just then. If so, he was an impressive figure indeed.

“Take the mistletoe down again, Tsuzuki-san. If you insist on decorations, you can reuse the red ribbons. If I see any mistletoe up after lunch hour, you will have to face the consequences.”

“Tatsumi, please, it’s not …”

“The office is not the appropriate place for displays of affection, whatever they may be, Tsuzuki-san.”

Forestalling further argument by raising a hand and pulling the mistletoe Tsuzuki held in his hand to the ground by its own shadow, Tatsumi then turned on his heel and stalked back to his office, without his coffee.

Watari was right, though, perhaps Tatsumi had really been too harsh with Tsuzuki. Flirting with his partner wasn’t an offence in itself and there was no reason to assume he would stop just because he couldn’t play ‘catch’ under the mistletoe with Kurosaki. Perhaps saving a doughnut for Tsuzuki during the next meeting would be an appropriate way to say he was sorry.

----

Tatsumi’s phone rang shortly before the office closed.

“Tatsumi-san, please come to my office straight away.”

“Certainly.”

Two minutes later, Tatsumi was sitting across from Konoe-kacho, an open case-file in front of him.

“I require your input on this. The case is in the Chuugoku(5) district, however, given recent developments and Torii-san’s being new, I think it might be better to let Kurosaki-kun and Tsuzuki-san handle the case.”

After skimming over the file, Tatsumi leant back, “I agree on not letting Kannuki-san and Torii-san handle this case. I’m not sure if Kurosaki-kun and Tsuzuki-san are the best choice, either. I believe Kurosaki-kun is still recovering from his ordeal in Gensukai (6).”

“Watari-san, then?”

“I think he might be a good choice.”

“He has certainly proven his worth as a field agent in Kyoto. Would you accompany him?”

“Do you think Watari-san will need back-up? The case doesn’t look particularly difficult. Perhaps we could send one of the GuShouShin?”

“Yes, that’s a good idea, Tatsumi-san. But I think we should send Tsuzuki-san along for the assignment.”

“May I ask why?”

“Tsuzuki-san needs to get out a bit. He hasn’t been on field duty a lot since Kyoto and I think he needs to get back to it in increments.”

Tatsumi nodded, “Shall I inform Watari-san and Tsuzuki-san of their new assignment, then?”

“That’s fine, Tatsumi-san, I’ll do it. I would prefer it if you kept an eye on things at the office. I’m not sure Terazuma-san is settling well, another reason why I would like Tsuzuki-san out of the office.”

“A good thought, Konoe-kacho. I will do my utmost to ensure the transition is smooth for Torii-san.”

Frankly, Tatsumi was happy he didn’t have to speak to Watari about the case. The less he saw of him, the better. Additionally, there was the possibility Watari would forget about dinner when occupied with the case.

----

From: S_A
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2001/12/26, Wed, 11:24
Subject: party
--------
Try to enjoy the party tomorrow. Tsuzuki
and I will try to be back in time. Smile a bit.
We’ve organised a dart set for you, with
photos of the Accounting division
members to shoot at. My idea.
Birthdays aren’t that bad, really. You
look good for your age. Felt good, too,
pressing against me.
Smilingly yours, S_A

The message was received during lunch hour and would land, like all others before it, in Tatsumi’s bedside drawer.

He spent a thoroughly uneventful day, with no alarms, no property damage, and no loud arguments to distract him from filing reports in Konoe-kacho’s office. His mind only took a little detour now and then to remember the sunlight glinting in Watari’s hair, or the smile on his flushed face.

----

“You think Tatsumi’ll like the party?”

“Of course he will, Tsuzuki. Just don’t expect him to go up in smiles and effusive thanks. He’s the quiet sort.”

“What did you get him?”

“Tatsumi? A good Spanish red wine. And you?”

“Hisoka went shopping with me. And we had dinner together after; he even ate half of his cheese cake!”

Watari smiled, “He must’ve been really tired, you just work him too hard.”

“He was the one dragging me through each and every bookstore we saw. And we didn’t even stop at the bakeries and sweet shops!”

“So, what did you get?”

“Oh, right, Hisoka chose a book about European history, very old stuff, French revolution and so on. You think he’ll like it?”

“Of course he will.”

Tsuzuki stopped walking, regarding Watari with a slight frown, “You’re not really listening to me.”

“Where did you get that idea?”

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really. It’s just the case, it’s … never mind.” Watari smiled.

“It’s because she’s a scientist, too, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Thankfully, Tsuzuki didn’t press him further. Watari wasn’t ready to reveal more. He could see why Konoe-kacho (and probably Tatsumi as well) had chosen him for the job. The woman they were sent to bring back was called Shintoka Ayumi, a brilliant science student, not much older than Watari had been when he died.

Like him, she had dabbled with mixtures she shouldn’t have touched; as a consequence, she was now dead, and her face and hands scarred by acids and caustic bases. She seemed to be looking for a particular formula that kept eluding her and therefore did not wish to leave Chijou.

Watari remembered his own reasons for clinging to life, although they had surprisingly not been of a scientific nature. Barely conscious when he was picked out of the ruins of the lab he had worked at, he had heard that a few colleagues of his had been in the building as well. And although death called to him, he hadn’t been able to let go.

He had needed to know who had been in the building and that they were okay. Too stubborn to find rest he had waited a few days, more dead than alive. It was then he’d heard the nurses talk about the explosion, which had killed three of his colleagues and injured two others.

‘It’s such a tragedy. Such clever people they were too. And the boy surely didn’t mean to blow everything up. Still, three people died because of him, a meddlesome student, I wonder how he’ll deal with it. Perhaps it’d be better for him if he never woke up at all.’

Watari had never asked Konoe-kacho why it had been him who came or why he let Watari live until he’d found out what he’d done, a painful clarity, yet a conclusion of sorts. The one thing that remained for Watari was to find out exactly what had caused the explosion; it was why he had begged with Enma-DaiOh to be allowed to stay in Meifu in the first place.

Failure was a word Watari was familiar with to a certain extent, although this time it had cost lives and brought suffering to more than him. He felt he owed it to his colleagues to find out what had killed them and then there was, of course, the purely scientific reason, the thrill of the unknown discovery lurking somewhere at the back of his mind.

Not even Tsuzuki knew that the elusive sex-change potion was actually a cover-up for his desperate research; the explosion that killed him had robbed him of his memory as well, and there were too few bits and pieces left about the time just before and after his death now. Perhaps Enma-DaiOh had meddled, too, to ensure that Watari couldn’t quickly and clearly reconstruct that blasted formula, thereby keeping him anchored to the afterlife. But Watari kept trying nevertheless. He knew Shintoka-san would do to the same.

----

The alarm went off at 5:00 in the morning as usual. Tatsumi had already been awake for a couple of minutes, lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling above him. Another birthday – another year more he wasn’t sure he really wanted to add to his age.

Tatsumi’s bedside drawer squeaked when he opened it, fumbling a little as he was still lying down. His shadows manipulated the blinds and the light switch even as his fingers closed around the printouts.

Sitting and propping himself up against the pillows, Tatsumi re-read the messages he’d received over the past weeks:

I hate seeing you so tired.

You’re far too tense! I see you and you’re frowning.

You like it when I’m tactless, ‘cause it makes you smile.

I’ve got an impeccable memory, and I liked it too much to forget.

Have you had naughty thoughts about me of late? I sure have of you.

Tatsumi, you should know your passion is tempting rather than frightening me.

Do you think of me too, at night, in the shadows where no one can see you? Do you touch yourself and imagine me on that table?

You should know you can trust me; it’s not too late to get some joy out of your after-life.

You look good for your age. Felt good, too, pressing against me.

So many smiles, winks, innuendos all packed into the little messages. Tatsumi couldn’t help smiling now and then, with wistful excitement and remembrance. A glance at the clock revealed it was 5:23 already and somehow, with Watari’s cheerful face and words in his mind, it was less difficult for Tatsumi to persuade himself to get out of bed.

----

“Wow, that must’ve been some explosion!” Tsuzuki’s eyes widened and Watari grunted something in assent.

The lab their target had worked at – privately funded in all probability as it had been no more than a room – was nothing but ruins and ashes.

“There were no other casualties, were there? I might not have read the whole of the file…”

“No. Only Shintoka-san died, no one else. The damage to the surrounding flats is extensive, but most of the inhabitants were at work. An elder couple living on the ground floor was lightly injured – they called emergency services. Shintoka-san was pronounced dead last night and her body taken to the morgue, from where it disappeared this morning. We can assume she’s still in corporeal form, therefore.”

“Hn. You learned that file by heart, didn’t you?” Watari didn’t look at Tsuzuki, not rising to the bait in the teasing tone.

“Watari, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, now let’s get Shintoka-san and get out of here.” The words were more clipped and colder than Watari would have liked. Tsuzuki put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly.

“You think she’ll be in the lab?”

“Her research’s the reason she’s still here.”

“That’s a yes?”

“Yeah.” Watari managed a very brief smile. Although weak, it seemed to reassure Tsuzuki.

----

“Shouldn’t we wait till Tsuzuki-san and Watari-san are back?”

“Tsuzuki said not to wait; if they’re not back at 16:30, we start without them.”

“Are you sure, Hisoka-san?”

“Yes.”

“They’re alright, aren’t they?”

“Why ever wouldn’t they be?”

Wakaba shrugged, smiling a little, “You’ve been screwing up your face all day and you’ve been grumpy, so I thought you might sense something out of the ordinary from them.”

“I just don’t like Tsuzuki being out there with Watari. Those two are too hyper for their own good. They’re probably overdosing on desserts as we speak.”

A little laugh and a teasing, “Hisoka-san, you’re impossible.” Wakaba smiled and shook her head slightly as she went back to her own desk, checking up on her birthday cake. She tried not to look at the place opposite her, where Terazuma used to sit.

The top of the desk was hardly to be seen for all the piles of papers, ribbons, and assorted make-up articles on it. Saya obviously wasn’t the tidiest individual; Wakaba suppressed a sigh at the thought of Terazuma’s clean-cut piles and methodical filing; she had been the one to ask for the transfer after all.

----

The small lab had been tucked into the back of the building. The explosion had made the surrounding walls collapse, shielding any and all contents from view. Although emergency services had broken their way through the wall, the iron rods used to support their entry had given in to the pressure of the loosened bricks around them and the structure had caved in again.

Tsuzuki nudged Watari, pointing to a crevice near the heap of rubble near the splintered black wood of the broken door. Watari nodded. They walked towards it, taking turns to glance into the space beyond. It was dark, although cracks in the walls and missing bricks let in some light that outlined a white clad figure. It was enough to know where to teleport to close in on their target.

Tsuzuki and Watari looked at each other, nodded, and disappeared inside.

----

“No. I told you I don’t wear silk. Never. Ever.”

“But, … you’d look soooooo good in black silk. Or blue; it’d be lovely and it’d just highlight your chest …”

Kurosaki gave a snort as he passed Torii and Terazuma, failing to notice the pleading look the other man gave him. Torii had Terazuma cornered and was ranting about a change or two in wardrobe. Tatsumi, pouring himself a coffee, wondered what Kannuki would … ah, there she was and that expression on her face was probably barely controlled fury.

Perhaps Watari had been right and it was all just a matter of time. Tatsumi hadn’t failed to notice the utter chaos Torii had inflicted on her desk, nor how it was beginning to spill over onto Kannuki’s – and this was only the beginning.

“Tatsumi-san.” Kurosaki nodded at him, passing with a cup of tea and Tatsumi returned the greeting. He managed to stop himself from asking if Kurosaki had heard from Tsuzuki as to when he and Watari would be returning from their case.

Only because Tatsumi’s thoughts had been straying back to Watari a few times over the morning didn’t mean he was desperate to see the man; he still didn’t want to talk to Watari, as he hadn’t yet figured out what to say.

----

Tsuzuki and Watari materialised into air thick with remnants of smoke and chemical fumes and an almost tangible darkness. Shintoka didn’t notice them, measuring vilely coloured liquids and pouring them together, muttering to herself whenever a colour change in the solution let her know she’d caused a reaction.

At a sign from Tsuzuki, Watari stepped forward, keeping on Shintoka’s right side while Tsuzuki edged along on the left, keeping both her and Watari in sight, fuda in his hand. Watari fished another one out of his pocket quickly as he began to speak, quietly so he wouldn’t startle her, “Shintoka-san.”

She whirled around with a screech, dropping a test tube that sizzled on the floor – sulphuric acid from the smell. Watari raised one hand in a placating gesture, trying not to retch. Shintoka’s face was partly gone, acid and caustic bases had to have eaten their way into her flesh, burning her skin away, searing into her. Only one eye had survived and it was wild, angry, and hateful as she sputtered, trying to form words with her singed lips.

“Shintoka-san. We’re Shinigami and we’ve come to take you with us. You can’t remain here any longer, your time’s over. You’re dead, you’re no longer a part of the living world. Come with us, please.”

Extending a hand, Watari moved towards Shintoka. He willed her to accept her fate, to join them without a fight. The taste of Shintoka’s determination was in this room, in her scarred and distorted face, the lines of her hunched figure. There was pride in her, still, and a drive to succeed. If she fought, she was going to fight tooth and nail.

A noise almost like a growl issued from Shintoka, her lank hair swishing as she shook her head, bony fingers gripping the edge of her work desk.

“Shintoka-san, we can’t let you stay.” Tsuzuki’s voice was warm, soothing. Like Watari, he’d extended a hand, half-concealing the fuda he held in the other. The two Shinigami edged forward.

Watari saw the quick movement of the Shintoka’s hand, called out “Tsuzuki!” and launched himself at the woman, feeling the burn of acid as it ate into his skin with a startling clarity, even while his hand was at Shintoka’s throat.

“Watari, you’re …”

“Fuda, now.”

It had to be quick, before the pain overwhelmed him. The pain or pity for the desperate figure beneath him, trying to struggle although she had no strength left in her. She had locked herself in a lab, full of chemical fumes and drawn blinds, seen little of the sun and had meals only when she remembered them and now her body was even frailer than it looked under the lab coat. Watari’s weight held her pinned, his knee on one arm, the other held in place by a grip on Shintoka’s bony wrist.

Tsuzuki’s voice was distorted by the sizzling ache in Watari’s arm and shoulder where the acid was gnawing deeper and deeper into his body; his grip on Shintoka’s neck was weakening.

The flash of light came suddenly, throwing Watari off balance; he shook his head, back hitting the floor as the spell flung him off the scientist. He dimly registered that it was still dark in the room, although his eyes seemed to have adjusted more. Tsuzuki’s face swam into view, concerned.

“You ok? Come on, I’ll take you back, you need to get patched up, this looks nasty.” Tsuzuki kept talking as his shaking hands grabbed the lapel of Watari’s lab coat and his good arm, pulling him upright to stand.

Shinigami healing capabilities were kicking in slowly, adding to the pain as Watari’s abused flesh knit itself back together, driving the acid burn out.

“It’s ok, Tsuzuki, I can stand.”

“Right. You want to … rest for a moment?” Tsuzuki squatted down beside Watari, leaning against the work desk, “Tell me what’s wrong?”

Watari sighed softly, nodding.

----

“We’re starting now, aren’t we?”

“Have you arranged everything?”

”Don’t you want to wear a ribbon?”

“If you suggest that again, Saya, I’ll kill you.”

“But I’m already dead!”

“Yes, we’re finished, Hisoka-san.”

“I’ll go get Tatsumi-san then.” Konoe-kacho sent himself on the errand, making sure once more that everything was indeed prepared. It was a pity Tsuzuki and Watari weren’t back yet, but he was sure they would return soon. The case wasn’t that difficult.

----

“I’m sorry.” Tsuzuki grabbed Watari in a hug, holding him close for a moment.

“No need, it was a while ago. I can’t change what’s happened.”

“That doesn’t make it easier, does it?”

“No, but it’s not really that awful anymore either. Maybe I’m also a little more egoistic than you think. So, now that you know my dark secret, how about we head back?”

Watari wanted the topic to be laid to rest and Tsuzuki understood, “We aren’t that late, only half an hour or so.”

“I need to change, don’t I?”

“You’d better. Tatsumi’ll have a fit otherwise.”

Ah, yes, Tatsumi; the one person Watari wasn’t ready for after the afternoon. He’d wanted to seduce Tatsumi that evening; or at the very least get a little closer, make an overture. However, he wasn’t up to it. All he wanted was to have a bit of peace and quiet for himself that night, a swim maybe to purge himself of some of the dark thoughts swirling around in his mind.

----

“Hope you’ll like it, old boy.”

“A happy birthday from both of us, Tatsumi-san.”

Kazuma and Nonomiya smiled, presenting two bottles of sake, each hidden in a blue jute bag and tied off with a small red ribbon. Tatsumi thanked them with a smile, adding the presents to the pile on the table behind him.

Konoe-kacho and Terazuma had both given him fountain pens, the same brand even, although Konoe-kacho had obviously had his wrapped in the shop while Terazuma had been more creative with old newspapers and origami. Kannuki’s cake took pride of place on the largest break room table, which had been laid with plates, cups, and paper napkins.

Torii and Fukiya had invested in a box of chocolates, although Tatsumi was sure he didn’t want to know why they’d tied a blue lacy garter onto the box like a bow. The GuShouShin had given him a tome about the history of bookkeeping and accounting, while Kurosaki and Tsuzuki had found a book about European history in the seventeenth and eighteenth century.

Kurosaki had also handed over Watari’s present, a bottle of Rioja, incidentally one of Tatsumi’s favourites wines. Tatsumi wondered if Watari had made a lucky guess or whether he had remembered from their – faintly drunken – conversation in Hokkaido. Given Watari’s excellent memory, it could certainly have been the latter.

“Splendid, isn’t it?”

Having missed the preceding comment, Tatsumi simply nodded and let himself be clapped on the shoulder by Konoe-kacho. The rest of the guests were filing towards the large table, seating themselves as Kannuki handed over the knife for Tatsumi to cut the cake.

While he did, gleaming metal sinking into the soft, spongy chocolate dough, he wondered where Tsuzuki and Watari were. It was almost quarter past five and they still hadn’t turned up. He hoped there’d been no complications on the case; there really shouldn’t have been, with Tsuzuki commanding twelve Shikigami and Watari’s natural cunning.

Tatsumi had barely finished his thought when the two men turned up. Tsuzuki’s hair was dishevelled and Watari had changed his clothes. His lab coat was gone as were his trademark black jeans and boots; instead he wore slightly battered blue corduroys, an old pair of sports shoes and a ratty red shirt.

“Hi Tatsumi, happy birthday, did you miss us? Sorry to be so late, we had a run-in with acid, that is, Watari did, ouch,” Watari kicked Tsuzuki none too gently, and Tsuzuki stopped.

“I only had one change of clothes left at the lab,” Watari shrugged, smiling a little too broadly and avoiding Tatsumi’s eyes. That certainly was a first since Watari had begun his e-mail flirtation, perhaps even a first in all the years they’d known each other. Tatsumi didn’t like it.

With Tsuzuki entertaining everyone at the table without even trying to, Tatsumi could be sure that no undue attention would be paid to him when he sat down beside Watari.

“The case didn’t go well?”

“It was okay. Shintoka was no match for us, she just caught me with half a test tube of acid and my clothes were ruined. I even got a few drops onto my boots.”

“Would you ...”

“Listen, Tatsumi, would you mind terribly if we postponed dinner? I won’t be much company tonight; Shintoka was driven, a good chemist. That accident took so much away from her ... I just … I can relate, you know?”

“Yes, of course. I ...”

“Tomorrow, same time? I’ll go for a swim tonight and be right as rain tomorrow, ‘kay?”

Now would be the perfect time to tell Watari that he wasn’t interested in whatever Watari was planning for them. However, one look at Watari’s expectant face, burning with a silent challenge and Tatsumi couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“At your place?” Tatsumi lowered his voice a little, unconsciously.

“Yeah, you know my address – it’s in my file and on the note on your present. If you don’t find it, just give me a call; my number’s saved on your mobile.”

“I will see you tomorrow evening then.” Watari smiled, brushing his hand against Tatsumi’s briefly and discreetly as he got up to excuse himself from the party.

----

I have to try combining sulphur and that new mixture I made yesterday; I’m sure it’ll have the properties my colleagues were researching.

The thought of doom, the one that got him killed – him, and three of his colleagues.

Watari took a deep breath, diving down towards the bottom of the pool. His eyes stung with chlorine when he opened them, blue-black water all around him, no sound, only specks of light.

The public pool in Kyoto was deserted after hours, there weren’t even security guards stationed in the building. Watari was safe here, welcome; no one would discover him in Chijou, no one would bar him from coming.

Only the water around him, lapping warmly against his skin, cocooning him, bracing him as he made long, sure strokes from one end of the pool to the other.

Coming up to the surface, gasping for air, feeling alive again, if only for a moment, wet hair heavy and sticky against his back and neck, clinging to this cheeks and forehead. He could’ve worn a cap or at least braided it, but there was a certain sense of freedom in letting his hair down, for all the tangles he’d have to brush out later.

Watari dove back down to the bottom, a small smile beginning to play around his lips. It was glorious to have these moments to himself, all alone.

----

Tatsumi wouldn’t have forgotten dinner with Watari, but he still got a text message at 19:32.

If you’re not here in 1/2 hour, I’m picking you up. That’s a threat. Cu

There probably wasn’t any way to get out of it now; Tatsumi teleported home to freshen up, then went to Watari’s. He rang the doorbell and, moments later, was face to face with Watari, smiling at him cheekily. Yesterday’s demons seemed to have been laid to rest.

"You came!"

"You didn't leave me any choice."

"Don't be so uptight, Tatsumi. Come on in, let me take your jacket."

Tatsumi looked around, surprised at the neatness of the small apartment. He had assumed Watari never actually used it, but it was spotlessly clean, although the walls were bare and the space looked unused rather than lived-in.

Watari noticed his surreptitious glance, "I don't often come here; just for cleaning, really. I can't let it go to waste – I keep all my books here. Living room's to your left, make yourself comfortable, 003 will show you where the cups are. Tea's on the small stove on the table. Hope you like genmai(7), I have others if you'd prefer something else."

"Genmai is fine, thank you."

A soft hoot made Tatsumi start as he entered the room, 003 zooming into his field of vision a second later. She flapped her way across the room towards a small cupboard and alighted on top of it, hooting until he’d reached her.

Tatsumi opened the glass door gingerly, taking out two cups and walking to the low table in front of the couch. He poured himself a cup from the pot on the Bunsen burner – which only Watari would call a "stove" – and sat down. He was tired and, if he was honest with himself, a little apprehensive.

He had no idea what exactly to expect. Dinner, yes, but other than that? Watari's teasing e-mails had filled his mind with images and thoughts he didn't really want to contemplate fully. They were too much of a reminder of that afternoon in Kyoto, where he had thrown away any semblance of control for a few startlingly blissful minutes.

Perhaps, Tatsumi thought, he was most disturbed by the knowledge that it had been exciting, arousing, and fulfilling in a way he had not believed possible. Sexual matters were something he usually did not analyse, tried to push aside, out of the realm of "need" and "want". Rationalising desire made it less immediate, less threatening, and therefore controllable, predictable. Watari had changed all that.

"Hooot!" 003 chirped into his ear, making him start. She settled onto his shoulder, a comfortable weight, tangible, but far from heavy; her soft feathers a teasing, gentling counterpoint to the cool air in the room. Watari had obviously not thought of turning up the heating.

Slowly, so as not to disturb the small owl, Tatsumi leaned back, letting himself sink into the old couch. The fabric was faded and washed-out, worn and smooth to the touch, smelling slightly of peppermint. It was immensely comfortable and relaxing and the apartment seemed still, even though Tatsumi could hear the neighbours' TV set through the thin walls, as well as the clatter of dishes from the kitchen.

The smell of food was beginning to curl its way into the room. The tangy smells of seaweed and soy and the strong, unmistakable aroma of frying fish. Scents Tatsumi had only smelled close-up for many years, never in a position where he didn’t have to cook himself.

Well, Tsuzuki had invited him for dinner, but Tatsumi couldn’t count his food as edible. The last time someone else had been cooking real food for him had been during his childhood, so many decades ago that the memory had dimmed and faded at the edges like a yellowed, torn photograph from long ago.

"You're not bored, are you?" Watari poked his head inside the room, hair twisted up into an impossibly fragile bun that threatened to spill over with curls; his lab coat was tied around his waist as a makeshift apron and there was flour dusted on his cheeks and nose, feathering over his glasses. He was smiling.

"003 is taking good care of you, isn't she?"

Tatsumi pulled himself upright, disturbing the little owl, who fluttered her wings against his cheek irritably, "Yes, 003 is very good company. May I help you?"

"Oh no, you may not," Watari laughed, "I won't be long; the miso's almost ready. There are CDs in the cupboard and a player, 003 will show you."

The blonde head disappeared, a soft flap of lab coat and a flash of black jeans indicating Watari's retreat into the kitchen. 003 took flight, tickling Tatsumi and ruffling his hair. He shook his head, "I'm fine, thank you."

Somehow, talking to an owl seemed less strange now he was in her owner's apartment; as if it were more natural there, in her habitat.

----

Dinner turned out to be simple, but good. Tatsumi had brought the sake Nonomiya and Kazuma had given him, which was a perfect complement to the food.

Fluttering around and between them, 003 oversaw their eating, cocking her head at Watari whenever she wanted a bite.

“Would you rather have more rice or tempura?”

“Hooooooot.”

“Fine, here you go. Want me to cut it? No, kay.”

“The way you communicate with 003 is amazing.”

“Yeah, we get on well, don’t we, 003? But then, it’s probably not that amazing, considering.”

“Considering?” Tatsumi found himself intrigued.

“003 was sort of an experiment. I mean, I guess you remember she just turned up out of the blue one day. After one of my first cases, when I was doing paperwork – really boring stuff, I’d had to collect the soul of a second rate sushi cook – anyway, I started doodling. Then I ran out of paper and went on doodling on my hand.”

“Indeed.”

Watari smiled, “Yeah, but then, you know I’d only just got my powers and I’m a scientist, so naturally I was curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“If I could animate a drawing on my own hand, of course. At first I thought it wasn’t going to work; it tickled, too, and suddenly, 003 was there, staring at me. Then she ruffled her feathers and hooted and hopped right over to the Bunsen burner. It’d forgotten it was on.”

“I see. So...”

“That’s it, really. I only noticed that 003 was different a while later. My other experiments, 001 and 002, the penguin and the toucan, and my drawings too can only perform a limited number of tasks. My stick figures can be used for one thing in particular, more elaborate drawings for a few more. Still, 003 is the only one who has a mind of her own. She thinks independently of me and she acts and reacts like a human would.”

“So you haven’t tried this particular kind of ... animation again?”

“Oh no, not after I had 003. She’s perfect and wonderful and amazing; whatever comes after would only be a pale copy of her, right girl?”

The small owl hooted, proudly pushing out her chest as she landed on the middle of the table and started preening. Tatsumi smiled.

“So 003 is almost an extension of yourself then?”

“Oh, well, I never thought about that. Maybe, but then she’s got her own head, really, and she can be quite moody,” 003 hooted and clicked her beak in the direction of Watari’s fingers, “See? So no, she’s not quite as sweetly innocent as me.” Watari’s smile was wicked and Tatsumi raised an eyebrow.

“I doubt there’s much innocence left in you, Watari-san.”

“You wound me; though I guess I got a little overboard on the e-mails, even 003 refused to continue proof-reading them. She said I was being horribly overt with my thoughts.”

A small cough – Tatsumi tried to clear his mind of images that were inappropriate to the discussion of this matter, which surely had to follow now. He wouldn’t have chosen to talk about the messages – or Kyoto – ever again, although now that Watari was all but prompting him to say something…

“I assume you thought I’d be embarrassed.”

“Not really,” Watari smiled, “I’d rather hoped you’d be as intrigued as I was in Kyoto.”

Tatsumi remained quiet and Watari became serious, making eye contact and holding it as he continued, “I know it was a bit of a shock for you. I wasn’t exactly trying to seduce you – then or now – but I’m always curious. I’d like to repeat Kyoto, maybe try something else, with your pointer, without, I’m pretty open when it comes to sexual experimentation.”

“Experimentation of any kind, I would say.”

“Hm, if you take into account I’m a scientist, yeah. I didn’t want to make you angry because I came on to you too strongly; I hadn’t thought you’d reply and when you did I couldn’t help teasing you. Was it my teasing that put you off?”

It was only after a longer pause and a few deep breaths that Tatsumi answered, slowly, “Not your teasing as much as your openness, your imagination. I’m not used to talk about my sexuality like this. I don’t want to be distracted and your … ideas did distract me. … I value your friendship, Watari, I don’t want to lose it over urges that needn’t be considered.”

“I think I understand.”

They fell silent, but when Watari gently brushed the back of Tatsumi’s hand with his fingertips, Tatsumi didn’t pull away.

“Friendship and sex don’t have to be mutually exclusive, Tatsumi. We’re dead, but in some ways we’re still alive, Tatsumi. There are still things we need, things we crave.”

Little circles drawn along Tatsumi’s hand by Watari’s long fingers, small caresses that felt far too good.

But Watari wasn’t finished and Tatsumi looked at him, into his eyes, “Contact, touch, taste, smells; of course you can cut yourself off, Tatsumi, but I don’t see any sense in it. Why would you deprive yourself of something beautiful that might make you a little happier? You no longer have to satisfy anyone but you. It’s called after-life for a reason.”

“I’ve been taught to make rational decisions based on my intellectual experience, Watari.”

Watari threaded his fingers through Tatsumi’s slowly, intertwining their hands, “What’s more rational than deciding to go for easy companionship and great sex? You know, I’m more than fifty years old and have spent over half of that time dead and pretty much celibate. I can go down to Chijou, to some club or other and find a stranger for quick anonymous sex; but no more.”

“And you think I can give you more than sex?” Tatsumi was a little nervous as to what Watari’s expectations of their relationship actually were.

“Why not? We already get on well, we’re both able to hold our own in intellectual discussions, and the rest,” Watari shrugged, a smile playing around his lips, “well, the rest will sort itself out.”

Tatsumi didn’t ask why Watari had chosen him of all people – there weren’t exactly that many options in Meifu that Watari had easy access to. The Shokan division was fairly exclusive and they had little contact with other divisions and their employees.

“I know you’re thinking of all the reasons why this can’t work, Tatsumi, and I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, with lots of flowers and little hearts all around. But I know we can make it work, if we give it a try and, well, adjust to the new things that come along.”

Such confidence was overwhelming, although Tatsumi was aware of Watari’s boundless optimism in all things. Tatsumi wasn’t usually spontaneous and the last time he’d taken the risk of letting himself feel it hadn’t ended with a ‘happily ever after’.

And yet there had been wonderful moments, smiles, laughter, and closeness – a brightness in his life; if Tatsumi was honest with himself, the risk had been worth taking that time.

So he nodded, briskly, gripping Watari’s hand tightly for a moment, accepting. Watari grinned at him, “Let’s get dessert, shall we?”

-----

The daifuku(8) were lovely – 003 obviously thought so too, as she kept hopping up and down beside Watari until he gave her another bite. Tatsumi felt comfortable in the silence that had fallen since Watari had cleared the table and brought the dessert plates. Now that they’d come to a decision, their being together seemed less awkward somehow.

“Would you like another one?” Watari indicated his empty plate.

“No, thank you, although they were very good.”

“Glad to hear that. I’ll just put everything in the kitchen – help yourself to some more tea and get comfortable, I’ll be with you in a second.”

“I can help you.”

“Don’t bother, it won’t take a minute,” a wink and a cheeky grin and Watari was gone. Tatsumi got up and went back to the couch, seating himself and picking up his cup from earlier. It was still half full, although the tea was already cold; he sipped it slowly, enjoying the sweet, yet tangy flavour. Watari came back a few minutes later, smiling as he settled himself beside Tatsumi, pulling his legs up under him.

“Anything else I can get you, Tatsumi? A snack, some more sake, your pointer …”

Your pointer.

Tatsumi’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he glared at Watari, who simply laughed and shrugged, “Well, it was worth a try.”

“You still have my spare pointer then?”

“Certainly. Do you want it back?”

“I don’t need it at the moment.”

“Tactful avoidance, Tatsumi, bravo. If not the pointer, how about a massage?”

Another narrowing of Tatsumi’s eyes, a quick straightening of his glasses, a cough; Watari laid a hand on his arm.

“You wouldn’t mind if I touched you now, would you?”

“You already are touching me, Watari.”

“Don’t avoid the issue.”

“It was easier to begin in Kyoto. I wasn’t thinking quite so much.”

A light laugh, “Then let me seduce you properly, I promise to empty your head of every single thought.”

“Confident, aren’t we?”

“I’ve got every reason to be,” a low chuckle and Watari’s hand tightened on Tatsumi’s arm, “You just have to take off your clothes, Tatsumi, and lie on your stomach. I’ll give you a massage and we’ll see where we end up tonight.”

Before Tatsumi had time to protest stripping, Watari had gotten up and left the room, calling over his shoulder, “I’ve just got to get some things; 003 will show you to the bedroom.”

The little owl hooted happily into Tatsumi’s ear as she flitted past him like a whirlwind and he followed her with little of the reluctance his mind told him he was supposed to feel.

He slowly took off his clothes in Watari’s tiny bedroom, folded them haphazardly and placed them in a small heap below the window. Then he laid down on the futon in his boxers, the crisp cotton bedclothes cool against his skin, smelling clean and fresh.

Tatsumi could not remember having ever gotten a massage before. He had, on occasion, half-heartedly kneaded on the kinks in his shoulders and neck, but no one had ever offered to do it for him.

Light spilled into the room from the corridor suddenly, blocked moments later as a shadow flitted past – Watari placed a few thick candles around the room and lit them. They gave off the faint scent of jasmine as they burned, light flickers casting a soft, golden glow into the room. The play of shadows was soothing, Tatsumi's power responding automatically to the shifting shapes on the wall.

The futon dipped briefly as Watari kneeled on it, gently removing Tatsumi’s glasses, fingers tracing briefly along Tatsumi’s lips. Watari’s hair was untied, tumbling across his shoulders; he only wore black boxers. Tatsumi shifted his head to the side to be able to breathe more easily.

The slow motions of yellow-gold light and black shadows flowing in and around each other were relaxing him and he barely noticed the rustle of cloth before the futon dipping again; a warm, heavy weight dropped onto his ass suddenly and he tensed. Watari’s chuckle and gentle, calloused fingers on his shoulders reassured Tatsumi.

"Relax, don't think; I'll make you feel good, trust me."

Lynn Dyre made this gorgeous illustration for me as a birthday present. A coloured version can be found in my drawings' section.

Strands of hair brushed against Tatsumi's shoulder blades as Watari leaned forward, whispering into his ear, even as his hands drew a slow, soft path down Tatsumi’s back to just above his ass.

He dragged his knuckles up again, passing to the base of Tatsumi’s skull, digging a little deeper into the knotted muscles of his neck. Down again, and up, then altering his attack on tensions by firmly massaging Tatsumi’s shoulders and shoulder blades, fingers pressing tightly into the hardest knots and circling, making Tatsumi moan at the pleasure-pain.

The longer Watari kneaded the pressure out of him, the louder Tatsumi got, and the more tired. He was no longer as actively aware of Watari’s weight on his thighs, the spare, teasing touches of long hair dragging across his skin. His whole existence was centred on the pleasant heat rising in his limbs, the exhaustion and sense of well-being that made his eyelids droop.

Tatsumi yawned and heard Watari chuckle close to his ear, wisps of blonde trailing across the side of his face as Watari placed a kiss on his cheek and snapped his fingers between Tatsumi’s shoulder blades, ending the massage.

Reflex made Tatsumi try to move, even though his body was lethargic, as responsive as dough and just as pliant, sinking back down onto the bed at the careful press of Watari’s weight stretching out against his back briefly before Watari rolled off, resting against Tatsumi’s side.

A blanket was draped across him and Watari came closer, his body moulding to Tatsumi’s. Amber eyes closed just as Tatsumi’s did and he gave in to the inviting pull of sleep.

----

Tatsumi woke a few hours later, still stretched out on his stomach, Watari curled against him. The position he found himself in was fairly unusual for him, although he had to admit it was comfortable. Watari muttered softly when Tatsumi reached out to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes, slowly coming awake.

“You were supposed to sleep all night, you know.”

The answer slipped past Tatsumi’s lips before he could check it, automatic and immediate, “You obviously didn’t tire me out enough.”

“Not satisfied, are we. Well, I can’t have that, of course.”

Before he could make any response, Tatsumi’s lips were busy, parting almost immediately for Watari’s insistent, teasing tongue. Slowly, lazily they kissed, a little awkwardly in their position.

Tatsumi had just gotten comfortable with it, when Watari pulled away a little, straddling Tatsumi’s thighs again and moulding his chest to Tatsumi’s back, pressing kisses to Tatsumi’s neck while his fingers danced up and down Tatsumi’s arms, kneading his biceps, then travelling across his sides.

Sliding down slowly, kissing and caressing relaxed muscles and sensitive skin as he went, Watari’s weight continued to press Tatsumi into the futon, his cock reacting slowly, filling and firming as he squirmed a little to ease the pressure. Watari’s hardness was a tangible presence against Tatsumi’s ass, slipping downwards and Tatsumi pushed his hips up as best he could to feel more of it.

Watari made a noise that might have been a chuckle, slipping off Tatsumi’s body as his fingers passed the waistband of Tatsumi’s boxers and trailed inside, stroking Tatsumi’s hipbones even as they pushed the fabric down, navigating it past his ass and cock.

Briefly, Watari’s hand skimmed the front of Tatsumi’s body, a half-hearted caress against his length, before it returned to massaging the globes of Tatsumi’s ass, kneading the flesh and rubbing firm circles against it in turn. Tatsumi was beginning to make strangled noises, moans and gasps as he tried to arch into the touch, his arms pushing against the futon to raise his body and give him more leverage.

A gust of warmth against the skin of Tatsumi’s back, no real warning when Watari’s tongue lapped at the small of his back, hands still busy on his ass, now pushing the cheeks apart a little, thumbs trailing the cleft softly. Watari’s hands, lips and tongue moved slowly down the firm flesh, Tatsumi’s shocked exhalation at feeling the wet swipe down his cleft and across his asshole seemingly too loud in the room.

‘Not natural’, his mind wanted to whisper, but it was distracted by Watari’s fingers tickling the crease where thigh met ass, then digging into the muscles of his thighs, dragging past Tatsumi’s knees down to his calves, caressing, massaging; Tatsumi’s body registered ‘good’ and he was too swamped by the feeling to force himself to pull away.

Watari’s lips, sucking and biting none too gently, travelled up Tatsumi’s legs, unerringly finding his ass cheeks, tongue pressing against and licking the hole between. Tatsumi realised that the sound muffled against his flesh was a groan from Watari and that the hot, heavy hardness wrapped in damp cloth prodding his calf was Watari’s erection. Watari was *enjoying* this.

Tatsumi pushed back again and his mind was blank now, because Watari’s tongue was actually *inside* his body and it should’ve been obscene, if he’d really been able to think about it, but it was just *good*, better actually, the slick, wet muscle pushing into him again and again, stabbing and filling and Tatsumi knew he wanted this; this and more, wanted Watari’s weight against him again and he thought he said as much, although he couldn’t really remember the words.

Suddenly Watari’s tongue was gone and the air was cool against his wet flesh, still exposed, cheeks still parted. Then, something dragged against his leg, half-resting on his calf, soft, cotton maybe. And then Tatsumi just groaned, a sound from deep down as he was pressed into the futon again and Watari’s thick, slippery cock slid between Tatsumi’s cheeks, his balls resting against the back of Tatsumi’s thighs.

Tatsumi’s legs parted further, unconsciously, as Watari settled, warm and heavy and then he slid downwards a little and up again, just barely, an inch, but it meant that his cock was moving, rubbing Tatsumi’s cleft, just enough for friction and a sweaty wet heat.

Hair was tickling his sides, his neck and Watari’s lips closed around a spot high on Tatsumi’s neck and he *sucked* quite hard and kept moving, so that Tatsumi just had to tilt his head a little to the side and push up on arms that were beginning to feel the strain. But his mind was hazy and he couldn’t remember anything as good as this, Watari’s cock teasing and heavy, the fuzzy warmth of Watari’s balls brushing against him, being completely covered and hot and sweaty.

Tatsumi’s cock was leaking into the sheets, moving slightly against now damp cotton as Watari’s sliding thrusts pushed Tatsumi down and up, again and again, and then, suddenly, Watari stiffened, moaned. There was the steely hardness expanding between Tatsumi’s ass cheeks and then something hot and wet splashed onto Tatsumi’s back and just the knowledge of what it was made Tatsumi convulse with his own climax, balls emptying in a breathless rush as he shivered.

They sagged down, then, Tatsumi gasping into the futon, Watari’s breath against his neck, gusting erratically into his ear. Tatsumi was sure he’d not be able to move, but Watari somehow could and, with difficulty, slipped from Tatsumi’s back to lie panting at his side.

Eyes closed and already on the verge of sleep again, Tatsumi was jolted to awareness by the push and pull against his side, turning him on his back, out of the wet spot on the sheets. Slowly, Watari’s face swam into – albeit hazy – focus and the sticky wetness plastered to his body began to register in Tatsumi’s mind.

“Let’s get a shower,” Watari smiled, eyes sparkling as he looked down at Tatsumi, who lay sprawled on the bed, blanket haphazardly tangled around his nude form. Watari stumbled to his feet, cocked his head, raised his eyebrow, and crooked his finger, beckoning.

It was a dare and the smirk playing around the corners of Watari’s mouth was too self-assured, a touch too mocking, and a bit too inviting. So Tatsumi scowled, got up too and followed Watari into the bathroom.

Watari drew back the see-through curtain and stepped into the shower, “Hot, warm, lukewarm or cold?”

“The water?”

“No, the sex,” Watari chuckled, plucking a red elastic band from the shower rack. He grabbed his hair, twisting it around his hand, twining the elastic around it some way or other. Tatsumi was surprised it held most of the golden mass back; still there were some shorter locks falling into Watari’s face and across his shoulders. If there hadn’t been, Tatsumi would have found something missing.

“Now, how do you want it?”

“As warm as possible.” “’Kay,” Watari turned on the water, flinching as it started out cool, before quickly warming. A fine spray bounced off the curve of his shoulders and back, raining onto the tiled floor, tickling Tatsumi’s feet.

“Come on in, Tatsumi.”

There wasn’t much room in the cubicle, but Tatsumi managed to squeeze himself in beside Watari, jerking a little as his back came into contact with cold tiles.

Watari’s hands dropped to his hips, “Turn ‘round, I’ll wash your back. You can do mine after.”

Tatsumi turned slowly, mindful of the cramped space in the cubicle, blinking as the spray hit his face and got into his eyes. Squishy bubbles spread across his back, rubbed in deftly by strong hands and Tatsumi’s initial reluctance dissipated. The suds tickled as they rushed down his back and legs when Watari caught the water in his palms and scooped it across his shoulders.

“There, back done. Turn round and I’ll do the front.”

A cheeky twinkle just visible in Watari’s eyes as Tatsumi faced him again, “I can do it myself. Your turn.”

“Spoilsport!”

Presented with Watari’s back, Tatsumi tentatively began rubbing shower lotion across firm muscles and Watari started humming a song slightly off-key. He also leaned backwards a little, head coming to rest on Tatsumi’s shoulder, as his eyes closed.

“Ever had sex in the shower?”

Tatsumi let one of his hands still its rubbing motion, curving his soap-slicked fingers around Watari’s hipbones. His voice sounded slightly suspicious when he spoke, “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Watari chuckled, “don’t worry, I’m not trying to corrupt you too much … as yet.” Amber eyes opened and sparkled up at Tatsumi, “Anyway, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like being with me.”

“Relationships were never my strong point.” Tatsumi found that the admission cost him, his pride stinging; he could, however, no longer say he was indifferent to Watari, not attracted. He’d crossed the line already that night; although having sex wasn’t exactly agreeing to an ‘ever after’ kind of arrangement.

“We’ll work on it. It’s been a while for me, too.” Watari’s voice was warm. He turned his head a little and pressed a quick kiss to Tatsumi’s neck, “Let’s get out of the shower before we end up wrinkled. You’re staying the night, of course.” It wasn’t a question and frankly, Tatsumi wasn’t in the mood to argue anyway.

Whatever relationship they had or were going to have, Tatsumi still didn’t know, but he figured that he’d come too far already to run away and that only time would tell him where he and Watari were headed.

-----

Given Tatsumi’s work ethic, weekends were no more than two additional days to touch up and perfect his work and tie up loose ends. Of course, Tatsumi also relished the quiet and being able to chose when to take breaks and how long these would be.

Yet, on this Saturday, lying between rumpled sheets on Watari’s futon, the prospect of being able to properly enjoy waking up, with nothing whatsoever reminding him of the office, was wonderful.

Tatsumi stretched slowly, languidly, curling his toes, feeling the muscles in his spine, arms and legs lengthen and contract. He hadn’t felt so relaxed in quite a while and the smell of coffee was twining around him, just like the shadows were curling about the edges of the futon and in between the sheets.

Slowly, Tatsumi sat up, dragging a hand through his hair – which was probably standing on end – and yawned. He was surprised to find his clothes laid on a stool beside the futon, all of them neatly folded. A towel and a disposable toothbrush lay on top of them, as well as a brown feather. Apparently, 003 had thought the little tower of cloth to be a good nesting space.

Remembering the track to the bathroom, Tatsumi went for a shower, cleaned up, and got dressed quickly. Apprehension was coming back to him, although it was a bit late for second thoughts. There was no telling what Watari would say to him – even if he weren’t to expect anything.

Straightening to his full height and pulling his shoulders back resolutely, Tatsumi made his way into the kitchen, only to find it empty.

“We’re in the living room – grab a cup of coffee if you like; I’ve got toast on the table and the left-over miso and daifuku.”

Watari sounded cheerful and Tatsumi’s lips turned up slightly as he poured his coffee into the large black cup on the counter.

He found Watari sitting on the couch, legs pulled up, a small china mug clasped in his hands. Steam rose from it and Watari blew it away, pursing his lips and frowning slightly as the condensation fogged his glasses up.

003 hooted in greeting and Watari looked up, eyes hidden behind white lenses. He grinned, patting the couch beside him, “Sit down and have some breakfast. Hope you slept well.”

Tatsumi strode forward, standing in front of Watari and handing him his handkerchief. A low chuckle and Watari shook his head, “It’s no good, I’ll just fog them up again – I like my tea a tad too hot. Besides, steam clears up quickly enough – I can see you now.”

As he couldn’t think of a response, Tatsumi nodded, seating himself beside Watari. It had been quite a while since he’d had breakfast with anyone and he found it was a nice way to start the day.

“So, what would you like?”

“Daifuku, please, they’re delicious.”

“Home-made,” Watari grinned, “I’m in the happy position to have a dear neighbour who loves baking and always makes too much. In return for leftovers, I repair her washing machine, the dishwasher, or the toilet. I suspect she’s just using that as an excuse to ogle me though; she’s always much more keen to make me stay for tea afterwards when I wear tight jeans.”

“I can imagine.”

That certainly hadn’t been what Tatsumi had meant to say, but Watari laughed, crumbling a piece of toast into his open palm and holding it out for 003 to nibble. With a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, Tatsumi helped himself to another daifuku.

----

Spending the weekend with Tatsumi had been very pleasant indeed, not that Watari had doubted it. Back at work there was a puzzle to solve, though – the impending destruction of Terazuma’s mysterious virus that Watari had scheduled for, well, right about now.

“You wanna watch a pro at work, 003?"

Dutifully, the owl landed on Watari's shoulder, cocked her head, and eyed the screen in front of her. She hooted softly, fluffing her chest.

"Yeah, finally figured it out, took me long enough. I hadn't thought of checking the whole trash folder before. The virus e-mail was sent to Terazuma's two months ago – but, and that's the best, you listening?"

"Hoot."

Watari clicked a few times and grinned, "Terazuma only opened the e-mail three weeks ago and voilà, he had himself a virus. When he deleted the message, it was automatically put at the back of the trash folder, due to its date. That’s why I didn’t find, clever little virus programme that it was."

Having resigned herself to Watari's sometimes unholy glee in the face of success decades ago, 003 simply cooed in his ear and stroked his cheek with her wings. Her way of giving praise. Watari laughed and shook his head.

"Mission accomplished. I'll just run the new programme I wrote in November and the virus'll be history. And then I'll have a talk with Terazuma about opening e-mails that are from unknown senders ... oops."

The owlish equivalent of a chuckle in Watari's ear, "Yeah, so it was a 'secret admirer' sending the virus. I guess I'll talk to Tatsumi, too, about keeping his guard up. Although, you know, if Tatsumi had been more careful, last weekend wouldn’t have happened. And that would’ve been such a waste."

003 fluttered off Watari’s shoulder to draw a few tight circles in the air above his head, stirring his hair. She was hooting in merriment, even more so when Watari shook his head, “You’ll never let me live this down, will you?”

----

Coffee was a good thing. Usually, it was one of the best things a man like Tatsumi could get. Of course, he could have asked Watari to bring him a cup, but the healthy dose of smiles and innuendo that accompanied the coffee were sometimes a little too distracting. Additionally, rumours always were just waiting to spring up in the office, should Watari spend the better portion of the day in Tatsumi’s office instead of his laboratory.

Therefore, Tatsumi had decided to take a five-minute break and stop by in the break room. When, however, all hell broke loose around him once he’d reached the coffee machine, caffeine was the least of his worries.

Terazuma was sitting at a table in the corner, back to the wall, Torii across from him. The girl was chatting animatedly, using her hands to illustrate her points. Terazuma’s attention was doggedly fixed on her waving arms, dreading her touch, no doubt. It was a reproduction of a scene Tatsumi had come across a few times over the past weeks – Torii went for lunch without Kannuki and, since Fukiya had returned to her own district, ended up focusing on Terazuma.

And this was probably the crux of the problem, as Watari pointed out as he came into the room, “Hi Tatsumi. If I’d known Terazuma and Saya were here, I’d have tried to redirect Wakaba.”

“Why would you? Torii-san and Kannuki-san are partners and Terazuma-san’s still a member of the division.”

“Saya’s flirting with Terazuma and he’s not telling her to cut it.”

“I assume he doesn’t bother anymore as she wouldn’t listen.”

“Perhaps; still, Wakaba isn’t happy about her new partner making a move on the man she wants,” Watari added a liberal dash of milk to his coffee, “This is, of course, classified information you never received. Especially not from me.”

“Of course not. I still believe you’re exaggerating, Watari. Nothing seems to indicate …”

The sharp clatter of breaking earthenware stopped Tatsumi mid-speech.

“Oh bother,” Watari mumbled beside him, tensing.

Kannuki stood in front of the table, hands on her hips, glaring at Torii, “Careful with your hands, Saya-chan. Hajime-san’s no plaything. You touch him, he transforms. That’s not something you want, believe me.”

Gaping, Torii looked at her newly assigned partner, her pink blouse stained with coffee from the shattered cup on the floor. Tatsumi silently calculated replacement costs.

Unfortunately, Torii wasn’t shell-shocked for long, nor did she acquiesce, “Careful with your words, there. Terazuma’s no longer yours. You asked for the transfer, he’s a free man. If he wants to spend his time with me, it’s none of your business.”

The point certainly was a good one, although Terazuma was obviously about to retort that he didn’t ‘spend his time’ with Torii of his free will. Before he could, however, Kannuki had risen to the challenge even as Torii had risen from her chair.

“You haven’t got the faintest idea about Kagankokushungei. He’s a dangerous animal, not some cuddly kitten. That’s primal instincts, honed on attack, Saya-chan.” Kannuki’s voice had risen a notch and her tone was decidedly unfriendly.

“Oh please, you’re just jealous cause the animalistic instincts aren’t trained on you anymore.”

A wince from Watari confirmed Tatsumi’s suspicion that this hit a little too close to the mark. Something had to be done before things got out of hand and Tatsumi knew this, but he couldn’t think of a thing to do. Threatening pay cuts for a break room conversation wouldn’t be an effective means of dissolving the tension.

“You don’t get it, Saya-chan, of course you don’t. It’s Kagankokushungei’s nature and by extension Hajime-san’s – he’s just not …”

Terazuma’s chair was knocked back as he rose, “Normal? That what you want to say, Kannuki? That what my oh-so-great ex-partner really thinks about me? That why you quit? Come on, tell us, tell me, to my face.”

“We now have a problem,” Watari intoned. Tatsumi knew he was right.

The problem was the person who had just walked into the room, followed by his young partner and the moment he appeared, Terazuma tensed further, out of instinct, probably. Tsuzuki wasted no time, “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Terazuma!”

“Terazuma-san, Kannuki-san, might I talk to you in my office?” Not very subtle, but it was the only thing Tatsumi could come up with. He was completely ignored in favour of a new target – Tsuzuki.

“Oh right, you’d know, just keep out of this, you … demon freak!”

The only sound in the room were the assorted gasps. Tsuzuki had stiffened and Kurosaki’s face screwed up as if in pain briefly as his fists clenched.

“Hajime! How can you say that!”

“Not my fault if he sticks his nose into other people’s business.”

Tension had been upped a notch and the shadows were curling and shivering. Something big was about to happen and Tatsumi definitely mistrusted Tsuzuki’s suddenly narrowed eyes, the rigid bearing. Even the edges of his trench coat curled and flapped as shadows rippled around them, controlled by a power other than Tatsumi’s, something primal and fierce.

“Terazuma-san, Kannuki-san, I must ask you to come to my office with me. Now.”

This time, Tatsumi got their attention; he made eye contact, stern and calm. A few moments of inattention were enough, Tsuzuki’s spell rushing across the room, backing Terazuma into a corner in containment. Kannuki reached out automatically, a habit ingrained so deeply not even years with Terazuma had erased it; she brushed his hand and moments later Kagankokushungei roared to life, pushing at the spelled barrier around him.

“No.” It took the word to refocus Tatsumi’s attention to Tsuzuki, the glowing fuda in his hand, raised to strike, Kurosaki’s hand all that was staying him. In a flash of movement, Watari was beside the boy, long fingers tightly gripping Tsuzuki’s other arm.

“Tsuzuki, please. Terazuma was angry, he didn’t mean it to come out like this.” A flinch followed Watari’s words and Tsuzuki’s posture softened. Slowly, he brought his hand down, letting the fuda slip from his fingers. Kurosaki twined their hands, shook his head at Tsuzuki’s obvious surprise.

“Let’s drop by at that Osaka coffee shop you like, my treat.”

A very elaborate distraction, more than an offering of comfort; a quick glance at Watari’s raised eyebrow and the benign smile playing around his lips confirmed Tatsumi’s suspicions. Love seeketh not itself to please (9) as the poet would say.

As Tsuzuki’s spell ebbed, the barrier fizzled out. Kagankokushungei’s large form flung itself against the table, pushing it forwards. Torii jumped back with a squeal and the table caught Watari in the hip. He cried out, slumping forward and Tsuzuki caught him, at the same time trying to place himself between the lion and Kurosaki.

Wood splintered and scraped against the floor, glass and china broke, and Kagankokushungei reared up, searching for his target. Kannuki was quick with her spell, but she was unbalanced and pale, catching the claws of one large paw on her arm.

Shadows gathered around her, cushioning her fall as she tripped on an overturned chair, arm clutched to her chest, bleeding. She was the first thing Terazuma looked at when he returned to human form and even through his ragged breathing she heard the mumbled ‘sorry’ and smiled weakly.

“I’m fine, Tsuzuki,” Watari limped towards Kannuki, kneeling beside her, “Let me have a look … it’s not too deep, we’ll just stop the bleed and clean the cuts, no big deal.”

The room was quiet and order and control were restored in the blink of an eye with the crisis past. Tatsumi nodded in Kurosaki’s direction, silently giving his permission for an extended lunch break.

“Torii-san, perhaps you could find Konoe-kacho and tell him I need to talk to him. Terazuma-san, do find some clothes. Watari, I trust you can take care of Kannuki-san?”

“Of course,” the wobbly way they both stood on their feet wasn’t entirely reassuring. Tatsumi gave Watari a quick once-over that earned him a completely inappropriate smirk, “Wakaba and I will be fine. I’ll come by your office later to report.”

“Right.” The protagonists filed out of the break room, leaving only Tatsumi with the remnants of yet another couple of broken dishes and pieces of furniture. Taking a small notepad and a pencil out of his suit pocket, Tatsumi began making an inventory for replacements.

----

“So, how are things?”

“I should ask you. Are you and Kannuki-san all right?”

“Wakaba’s fine,” Watari sank into the chair across from Tatsumi, “And I’m fine too. Just a bruise and I heal quickly. So what’ll you do?”

“I will suggest to Konoe-kacho to send Torii-san back to Hokkaido. I think it would be better to put Terazuma-san and Kannuki-san on temporary leave.”

“You’re not going to let Tsuzuki and Bon handle all their cases, are you?”

“Actually, I’d hoped you and the GuShouShin could deal with any minor disturbances for the time being. Should the need arise, I will ask for Shinigami from other districts to cover.”

“For how long will you put them on leave?”

“For however long it takes them to work things out. Perhaps you could impress on Kannuki-san that both her and Terazuma-san are in no condition to work with these personal matters coming between them.”

“I’ll tell her you said so.”

“Will you monitor Chuugoku?”

“Sure. Oh, by the way, I fixed Terazuma’s computer. I’ll drop it off at his desk later today.”

“Excellent. Perhaps you should go home early, though, Watari.”

“Hm, alright, I’ll think about it.”

Neither of them commented on the fact that Watari would probably remain awake until he saw Tatsumi leave. Then, he would go to bed himself, curling up on the futon in his lab.

----

Two months had passed and Tatsumi realised, after a dozen nights with Watari – sharing dinner, conversation, and a bed – that relationships probably weren’t as complicated as he’d thought they were. He had, however, not considered that Watari might soon want to take things a step further, away from the purely physical and the friendly affection onto a more personal level.

“Morning!” Watari beamed at Tatsumi, flinging the door to the office open and catching it moments before it hit the wall. He settled himself on the side of the secretary’s desk as if he meant to stay for a while.

Tatsumi looked up from his papers, raised his eyebrows and sighed, “Is there anything you want in particular, Watari?”

Watari grinned, “Just to annoy you,” he became serious, “Do you want to know why I became a Shinigami?”

“Why do you want to tell me?”

“No particular reason; Tsuzuki asked me after the Shintoka case and I thought you might like to know as well.”

Tatsumi’s nod was very light, but Watari hadn’t really expected more encouragement.

“I’d just gotten my PhD in Mechanics, but what I really wanted to do was make great discoveries in chemistry. So I began working as a lab assistant. I wasn’t supposed to actually dabble with chemical mixtures, because I didn’t at that time know what I was doing.”

Watari paused, briefly, looking straight into Tatsumi’s eyes, “Being me, I was of course curious and, in the evenings, tried my hand at potions. One day, I mixed a few things that I shouldn’t have brought together and blew up half of the lab, including five hapless colleagues of mine who had stayed late to work on a project. Three of them died, I heard the nurses talk about it in the hospital. There was nothing left for me in Chijou, but I couldn’t just forget, so I asked to be given a position as a Shinigami. So, what about you?”

Watari hadn’t properly drawn breath during his speech, a really amazing feat. Tsuzuki had probably flung his arms around Watari in silent understanding and shared pain; Tatsumi settled for, “I’m sorry,” which was terribly inadequate, although he supposed it was better than nothing.

Watari had laid his cards on the table – now it was Tatsumi’s turn. He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it, buying time. He looked down at the table and his eyes remained fixed on the papers in front of him, “I’m here, because I … I killed my mother.”

Tatsumi didn’t plan to elaborate. Watari remained perched on the edge of his desk, motionless. The silence was as all encompassing as the shadows Tatsumi sometimes called at night, when all he wanted was to forget. Only under their oppressive weight could he be free from the reality of something that had happened so long ago and was still so present in his thoughts.

“How?” Watari’s voice was steady, if quiet; he didn’t ask ‘Why’ and he didn’t leave the room in disgust. That was the only reason for Tatsumi to answer.

“Pills. Sedatives; we had enough at home.”

“Prescribed?”

“Yes. By our physician; he believed a … clinic might be good for mother. I couldn’t afford it.”

“Did you stay with her?”

“I held her hand while she fell asleep. I only let go when her heart had stopped beating.”

Tatsumi jumped at the swift brush of strong fingers across the back of his hand. He looked up at Watari’s intent face, the shining, serious eyes. It was the honest and unconditional support in Watari’s expression that compelled him to say more.

“My father left us with huge debts; he committed suicide and my mother never … she wasn’t the same after. Our family had been dishonoured already(10) and … she was very nervous and easily excitable. Our physician continuously prescribed sedatives and told her to rest.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve. My uncle, mother’s brother, paid my way through school – I worked in his business to repay him. It was enough to put food on the table.”

Watari gently closed his fingers around Tatsumi’s – a firm, supportive grip, “How old were you when your mother died, Tatsumi?”

“Twenty-six.”

“I see.”

No you don’t, Tatsumi’s traitorous mind supplied, but he didn’t say it out loud. He knew what he had done, had lived with it for some decades – it was a part of him, his own guilt, his own shame, his own shadows. And yet, Tatsumi had never said it out loud, never admitted his secret to anyone. Konoe-kacho probably knew from his file, although it hadn’t come up between them.

“Shall I leave you to continue with your paperwork?” Watari’s voice was still quiet, smooth. His hand still firmly grasped Tatsumi’s and a small, reassuring smile played around the corner’s of his mouth.

“I … I’d better get on with this, yes.” He was strangely reluctant to have Watari leave him.

Laughing softly, Watari jumped off the desk, giving Tatsumi’s hand one last squeeze before letting it go, “Oh yes! Just think of all those figures wreaking havoc if you turn your back on them!” He winked and waved as he opened the door, “Thank you, Tatsumi.”

Looking up briefly to catch a sight of dishevelled blond locks and warm amber eyes, Tatsumi smiled, “Thank you, Watari.”

----

Although he wasn't going to admit it, Watari had asked for it. 'It' being Tatsumi, in his lab, alternatively pacing restlessly and standing menacingly still, like a marble statue. The secretary's frown had scared 003 into hiding, in an undignified heap of feathers, behind the Bunsen burner. And Watari was filling out the forms he had forgotten to hand in on time. On time, in Tatsumi's precise language meaning exactly three (work) days after he had left the papers on someone's desk.

This time, there had been the allure of testing the properties of a new potion Watari had inadvertently created – it turned everything (and everyone) that touched it first a dark blue, then purple, then pink, before finally disappearing. It had fascinated Watari immensely and when it came to his favourite hobby, he was a weak man.

He had only remembered the files, dumped on one of the few available spaces on his work desk, after Tatsumi had descended on him with his patented cool, collected, and very much disapproving 'look of doom'.

So now Watari had set aside his newest pet project, filling in the forms under Tatsumi's watchful eye as if he were a schoolboy in detention. And this was, of course, not the worst thought to have. Detention with his favourite Sensei.

Still, it was a mystery to Watari how one man could be pacing with such exactly measured steps (like the rhythm of a dance, weaving a pattern on the floor of the lab) and then, moments later, stand so completely still. Statuesque, cold, and aloof – disturbing, for all that Tatsumi was technically dead – and yet, there was such fire behind the façade, such blazing *need* hidden behind the frowning mask.

Decades of experience had taught Watari that with Tatsumi, the level of glare was usually directly proportional to the (imagined or real) threat to the budget caused by a hapless culprit (usually Tsuzuki, but sometimes Watari himself); and somehow the thought of Shakespeare entered Watari’s head:

'To fund, or not to fund, that is the question,
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
the pangs and figures of outrageous budgets or
to take arms against a sea of deficits and,
by recalculating, end them. To sigh, to save,
perchance to balance – ay, there's the rub!
For with that balanced budget what requests may
come for funding food and projects yet again!' (11)

A discreet cough from behind him caused Watari to bring his mind out of his fond reverie and back to the present and another, as yet empty, form in front of him. He turned his head slightly, facing Tatsumi and flashing him a disarmingly sweet smile, "Say, Tatsumi, have you ever thought of reciting Shakespeare?”

Tatsumi grinned and said very calmly, "Don't be ridiculous, Watari! I don't do Shakespeare, I’m more the Machiavelli type."

Watari's eyes widened, then he chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he began to write again – with quick, precise strokes. In Watari's opinion, it wouldn't do for a scientist to make messy notes of his projects – a misspelt formula could quickly wreak havoc on one's lab supplies.

"The line should be longer here," Tatsumi leaned across Watari's shoulder and Watari could easily imagine the fine frown of concentration drawing Tatsumi's brows together. Tatsumi's subtle, earthy aftershave tickled his nose.

"Thank you, Sensei." Watari lowered his voice respectfully, although his tone was slightly teasing. He didn't catch Tatsumi's slight smile, but there was no mistaking the weight of Tatsumi’s hand, briefly resting on his shoulder and tangling in his hair.

----

While he was prowling the laboratory, waiting for Watari to finish filling out his forms, Tatsumi caught sight of a shelf beside the window. He went over to it, casually glancing at the files stacked into it. All of them were funding requests, meticulously labelled in three different colours, with the colour code detailed on top of the shelf, faded with age.

The sheer amount of funding requests was enormous and Tatsumi realised that Watari had to have been collecting them for a while. Most of the files were marked in red (rejected), a few green ones (accepted) blinking between them; and then there were yellow files, indicating those that Watari’s kanji termed “hopeless cases”.

A quick glance towards Watari revealed he was still writing, brow furrowing briefly as he thought about his phrasing, eyes scanning the paper in front of him quickly. His attention was completely focused on the forms.

Tatsumi reached out, taking hold of the yellow file nearest to him. It was a request for a mass spectrometer, dated a few months back; he was certain Watari had never brought it to his office. He wondered why and scanned the file for information on the gadget’s usefulness.

‘Currently, the Shokan Division needs to pass over a number of scientific tests to other divisions, which have the appropriate research equipment. A mass spectrometer would enable the Shokan Division laboratory to identify chemical substances that have been found in the field at once and therefore enable agents to react more quickly and more efficiently to the dangers they are facing.’ (12)

The information was interesting, but by no means enough. Usually, Tatsumi asked Watari for clarifications on whatever piece of equipment he requested to determine whether or not it was needed. But in this case, Tatsumi decided to ask a scientist from another division. His curiosity was piqued and he wanted to find out exactly what kind of funding requests merited being placed in Watari’s “hopeless causes” category.

Another glance at Watari revealed him still bent over the forms on his desk, intent and centred, blonde locks haphazardly knotted into a braid tumbling across his back. Tatsumi moved towards Watari, discreetly slipping the yellow file from the shelf into the stack of forms already filled in.

Tatsumi coughed, Watari looked up quickly, grinning and teasing Tatsumi – again – with a question about Shakespeare. So impetuous and unrelated to anything work-related; there could only be one reply to it, "Don't be ridiculous, Watari! I don't do Shakespeare, I’m more the Machiavelli type."

The resultant chuckle from Watari made it worthwhile and, bending lightly to look at Watari’s neat handwriting covering the page, Tatsumi smiled. Not at all difficult to briefly invade Watari’s personal space, leaning across him to point out a tiny flaw in the otherwise perfect kanji.

"Thank you, Sensei," Watari breathed and Tatsumi was compelled to reach out again, touch Watari, feel the tangled locks brushing against the back of his hand, smooth and tangible.

----

“A mass spectrometer? It’s used in forensics, for example if you want to know if there’s a certain substance on a suspect’s clothes, let’s say explosives. The mass spectrometer we have is a gem – you need only very small samples, so it’s very time-efficient. However, the price is staggering. We could afford one easily as we’re the main laboratory in Meifu, but others…”

“I see. Thanks a lot for your time, Yuki-san, I appreciate your help.”

“My pleasure, Tatsumi-san. May I ask why you didn’t ask Watari? He’s been using our mass spectrometer a few times and he’s well-versed in its use.”

“I am sure he is. But Watari-san is currently very much involved in a case that needs to be finished as quickly as possible.”

“I understand. Well, if you have any other questions, please feel free to ask.”

“Thank you very much. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Things were much clearer now, although Tatsumi had ceased wondering why Watari hadn’t put the funding request to him as soon as he’d seen the figure on the bottom-line: 16 million yen (13) certainly was more than a little expensive, although with Yuki-san’s information in mind, Tatsumi could see the practicality of having one at their disposal.

Meifu’s main laboratory was certainly well equipped and well staffed, but they were also overrun by research and testing requests. Having a mass spectrometer readily available to the Shokan Division and especially considering that Watari was already trained in its use, the equipment might prove valuable in their work.

It was time to add another green stamp to Watari’s shelved funding requests.

----

From: Watari Yutaka
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/18, Mon, 10:13
Subject: Good News!
--------
Guess who I saw in the break room?

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/18, Mon, 10:17
Re: Good News!
--------
No games. Just tell me.

From: Watari Yutaka
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/18, Mon, 10:21
Re: Re: Good News!
--------
You’re no fun. Saw Wakaba and Terazuma
just now. They whispered and when I said
‘hi’, Wakaba smiled (!) and -- hope you're
sitting well -- Terazuma grunted in my
direction.
He’s normal again. Or as normal as he gets.
I think the problems are over. No sign of either
Saya or Yuma anywhere.
Surprised?

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/18, Mon, 10:29
Re: Re: Good News!
--------
<< Surprised? >>
Somewhat. Saya + Yuma were both reassigned on
Friday and Konoe-kacho only informed me this morning.
Why didn’t you tell me yourself?

The knock came a few minutes later. Tatsumi leaned back in his chair and called his visitor in.

“So you did miss me!”

“Hardly.”

“Tatsumi, how can you be so cold?”

“Your pouting is ineffective.”

“Spoilsport,” Watari winked, placing a cup of coffee and a pastry in front of Tatsumi, “I take it you skipped breakfast?”

“I ran late this morning. You need a new alarm clock.”

“Buy me one,” Watari blew him a kiss, “Gotta go now, the GuShouShin brought me a ton of files to go over for cross-referencing.”

“I’ll see you.”

“You bet.”

When the door had closed behind Watari, Tatsumi allowed himself a small smile. He was slowly beginning to get used to being winked at and it wasn’t entirely bad to let his eyes stray to Watari’s lean legs, enticingly wrapped into tight black denim. It was entirely attributable to Watari that Tatsumi considered jeans one of the most fetching items of clothing he could imagine.

----

Cooing quietly to herself, 003 was grooming her wings while Watari talked, puttering about in his lab. The Bunsen burners were all turned on and various strange, bubbling liquids and gooey substances were being heated; some were smelly, some turned an astonishing variety of colours, and some just hissed ominously. At any rate, 003 was staying out of range of any of these concoctions.

“… but you see it’s progress. In a way at least – we are having sex pretty regularly now and he’s far less reluctant about trying new things. I just wonder if I can get him to acknowledge it as something real, you know, not in the limbo between friends and lovers. We’re both, I guess, if you really want to consider it that way. Certainly neither one nor the other, though, you know what I mean?”

A long hoot and Watari smiled up at 003, encouraged to have so attentive a listener. He was about to go on when someone knocked on the door.

“Come on in.”

“Watari Yutaka, Shokan Division?”

“Ah, yes.” The young woman was unfamiliar to him, although Watari supposed he might have seen her around some of the other division labs before.

“Lovely, I’m here to deliver your order. My colleagues will have it up here in a moment,” she produced a walkie-talkie, giving a clipped order, “Where do you want it set up?”

“What exactly is it you’re delivering, if I may ask?”

“Weren’t you informed? Wait,” she scanned the form on her clipboard, “Ah, right, signed by Tatsumi Seiichirou. Your name’s in the delivery column though. Never mind, we’re not taking it back with us, if a mistake has been made, please contact the company.”

A business card was waved in front of Watari’s face, then the young woman, who still hadn’t found it necessary to introduce herself, smiled, “So, where shall we… right, there, we’ll just have to remove these books and papers on the table. The space should do.”

“I still don’t know what you’re delivering; I can check with Tatsumi, if you like…”

“Mass spectrometer; as I said, we’re not taking it back, we’re only delivering.”

There were a few things Watari wanted to say but he really couldn’t wrap his tongue around the words. He knew with absolute certainty that he’d never put a request for a mass spectrometer on Tatsumi’s desk, for cost reasons alone.

Quickly, Watari strode over to the shelf that held his research requests and began thumbing through his yellow files. As he had half-expected, one of them was conspicuously missing. Such a sly bastard – a grin crept onto Watari’s face.

“If you’re quite finished looking into your papers, could you do me the favour of clearing the space now? My colleagues will be up in a moment.”

A reply was on the tip of Watari’s tongue, but he was feeling charitable and excited, so he moved aside assorted books and papers to clear a space on the storage workbench that held all items he didn’t use in experiments. It was hopelessly cluttered at the best of times, and now it looked even worse. He’d definitely have to rearrange things to make sure the spectrometer was always nicely accessible.

Five minutes later, the boxes were on the floor near the desk and two wiry men were unpacking the equipment and setting it in its place.

“That’ll do boys. Watari-san can finish plugging it in and starting it up, I’m sure.”

She expectantly looked at Watari, who grinned and opened the door for her, “I’ll be delighted.”

“You’ve got to sign here.”

“Of course.” He did, making sure not to notice the expectant twitch of her hand. No tip forthcoming from him, that was for sure, “Have a lovely day, milady.”

She snorted quite unladylike and whisked out of the lab. Watari chuckled as her colleagues practically ran after her. Closing the door, he turned around to fondly seize up his new equipment, “Welcome to the Shokan Division. I’m Watari, and I think I’ll call you Tatsu.”

----

From: Watari Yutaka
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/26, Tue, 13:47
Subject: You’re unbelievable
--------
Tatsu-chan arrived two hours ago. She’s
a beauty, I’m totally in love with her and I
promise I’ll take extra good care of her.
How come the Shokan division got her?
Tatsu-chan’s certainly no cheap lady.

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/26, Tue, 14:04
Re: You’re unbelievable
--------
Who is “Tatsu-chan”? If you’ve got a new
pet I sincerely hope it isn’t anything large
or dangerous. No pet dragon or the like.
And what do I have to do with all this?

From: Watari Yutaka
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/26, Tue, 14:08
Re: Re: You’re unbelievable
--------
Oh, confusing you, was I? Well, Tatsu-
chan's the mass spectrometer worth a few
million yen that you signed the deed for.
Is she even in the budget?

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/26, Tue, 14:12
Re: Re: You’re unbelievable
--------
I talked to Yuki-san from the main
laboratory and thought it might be good to
be less dependent on central research
help. After all, I heard you are more than
capable of using the technology.
Yes, the equipment is in the budget. Un-
less you destroy your laboratory again or
Tsuzuki gets at the library.
Why Tatsu-chan?

From: Watari Yutaka
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/26, Tue, 14:15
Re: Re: You’re unbelievable
--------
You bought her, I had to name her after you.
Let me say ‘thank you’ properly. Can I take
you out to dinner?

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/26, Tue, 14:23
Re: Re: You’re unbelievable
--------
I protest against that name. You don’t need
to take me out. It’s not as if you owed me
anything. I would enjoy your company for
dinner though. Shall we say 20:00?

From: Watari Yutaka
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/02/26, Tue, 14:26
Re: Re: You’re unbelievable
--------
20:00, I’ll pick you up.

----

Black jeans and pullover, blue denim jacket, hair ruffled and unbound – Watari looked classy without being dressy while Tatsumi felt his suit and tie were a little too formal for the small sushi bar in Kyoto, tucked into a back street, obviously an insider tip.

The food was delicious and so was Watari’s honest delight with his new scientific toy. He kept talking a mile a minute about technical specifications that made Tatsumi’s head swim, although the joy he radiated was infectious.

“Say, Tatsumi, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Did you filch the spectrometer funding request from the shelf?”

“I … borrowed it. I apologise for not asking, but I was curious as to what kinds of things you would consider hopeless requests and thought it might be better to make enquiries of my own before confronting you.”

“Why did you buy the spectrometer then?”

Tatsumi considered taking the easy way out, coming up with the rational arguments he had used in his forms to convince Konoe-kacho, although he was sure Watari would see them for the white lies they were.

“I went over your funding requests for the last years – mainly replacements after laboratory accidents or because the equipment was broken or obsolete. The only new state-of-the-art item you asked for was a microscope and this one wasn’t even the most expensive model on the market. I remember checking at the time.”

“You got the up-market one back then.” Watari’s smile was warm, glowing.

Tatsumi shrugged, “The price difference wasn’t that great and it came with a longer guarantee period.”

“But why the spectrometer? It’s not something we desperately needed, which is why I didn’t ask for it.”

“That’s precisely the reason we got it.”

“Because we don’t need it?”

“We can use it well enough, I believe and we might even be able to ask a small sum if you do tests for other divisions should the main laboratory be overrun.”

“That’s not an answer, Tatsumi.” Watari’s placed his hand over Tatsumi’s, the action shielded discreetly by the Chinese lantern in the middle of the table.

“You never place requests for any special gadgets, although you keep telling me and everyone around you that you are. Considering the other requests I get and the use we can put the spectrometer to, it did seem like a good investment.”

“I appreciate it more than I can tell.”

Watari’s eyes sparkled and his smile was wide and open – Tatsumi squeezed his hand for a moment, nodding his head, slightly embarrassed but nonetheless pleased with Watari’s reaction.

They paid separately, because Tatsumi insisted on it. He didn’t decline when Watari invited him to his apartment for a nightcap.

----

Mid-spring, two weeks away from Watari’s birthday, Konoe-kacho asked Tatsumi to organise another division meeting. This time, it was a progress report: cases assigned, solved, in progress. There would be a short presentation from Tatsumi, followed by a discussion to share thoughts, requests, and proposals.

As he was preparing his notes, handouts, and the Powerpoint presentation to take to the staff room, Tatsumi’s eyes fell onto his long-disused pointer. The rush of associations that came over him – light and shadows, textures of cloth and skin and hair – were more familiar now, less threatening.

Watari’s body was no longer a guilty secret, nor were his responses, the mischievous sparkle in his eyes, the glittering that promised dirty thoughts in the next note, a kiss stolen behind closed doors while Tatsumi protested the impropriety of public displays of affection.

The pointer beckoned and Tatsumi reached out, tracing the long, thin metal with the tip of his fingers with the same reverence with which he touched Watari’s cock, tracing the veins, velvety folds across blunt hardness. With a little chuckle at his own wayward thoughts, Tatsumi shook his head, grabbing his utensils and walking out the door.

He returned to his office a minute or two later, his hand closing with practised ease on the thin metal. Perhaps he was ready for another experiment in the bedroom. But first of all, there was a score to settle with Watari.

----

Kurosaki and Tsuzuki were already in the staff room when Tatsumi returned with his pointer, their fingers touching shyly over a plate of chocolate biscuits. They didn’t pull apart when they noticed Tatsumi, though Kurosaki’s cheeks reddened slightly. Tsuzuki was smiling though, a brilliant, happy smile.

With a nod, Tatsumi turned his attention to the last preparations for his speech.

“Tatsumi-san, Kurosaki-kun, Tsuzuki-san,” Konoe-kacho smiled benevolently as he took his seat, immediately followed by Torii and Fukiya, in matching tones of pink – all flowers and butterflies. They two giggled at seeing Tsuzuki and Kurosaki all but snuggled together, although they were surprisingly unobtrusive and refrained from making any comments.

Terazuma was scowling when he came in, although his eyes were less stormy and his face a little more relaxed than usually. He gave Tatsumi a curt nod, waiting for Kannuki and Watari to catch up. Watari greeted Tatsumi, smiled, and seated himself at the far end of the table, a little apart from the others.

The table did hamper Tatsumi’s view of Watari’s legs – tight black jeans again – a little, but by moving a little to the side he should be able to amend this, a feat easily accomplished while walking about, pointing out figures and tables projected onto the wall behind him.

A brief introduction by Konoe-kacho opened the meeting, although Tatsumi didn’t pay particular attention. His eyes wandered as they usually did, perhaps resting a little longer on Watari then on the others. When Konoe-kacho ceded the floor, Tatsumi smiled, slowly rising from his seat and bringing his pointer with him.

----

Leaning comfortably against the backrest of his seat, Watari attentively looked to the front of the room. Tatsumi rose with fluid grace, taking his place centre stage. And then Watari noticed the pointer. It struck suddenly, pointing at the wall and blinking merrily in Watari’s direction.

He raised his eyebrow, surprised, tried to catch Tatsumi’s eyes and was thwarted by the light catching on his glasses. The pointer drew a straight path *down* the wall – lucky wall – and Tatsumi was looking straight at Watari for a moment. Watari’s heartbeat sped up and he smiled: challenge accepted.

One hand on the table, the other resting innocently on his thigh. His fingers began to travel up and down, barely moving, no one would see unless they specifically looked. Tatsumi was looking, eyes flicking to Watari more and more often. The movements of his pointer on the colourful graphs and white tables interspersed with black writing strong, efficient, and just a little harder than necessary, as if he were mapping the contours of a body instead of showing off his presentation.

Watari let his tongue peek out, slowly dragging it across his lower lip, biting it a little to ensure the flesh darkened to a lush rosé. Tatsumi’s next intake of breath was slightly longer. The pointer made a tight circle on the wall, scratching it; Watari’s cock twitched in his pants and he shifted a bit in his chair. A smile flitted across Tatsumi’s face and Watari grinned and languidly licked his lips.

So easy to watch Tatsumi, to concentrate completely on his presence and spread his legs a bit just as Tatsumi stepped to the side to get a better view. Watari knew the others wouldn’t notice what he was doing, even if they turned around. He reinforced his shields, hoping Hisoka hadn’t picked up on a stray feeling – lust, desire, need.

“If there are any questions regarding the progress reports, please ask them now.”

Tatsumi’s lecture had probably come to an end, his chest was rising and he was swallowing, reaching for a glass of water on the table. Watari obviously wasn’t the only one wanting a drink. He took his own glass and sipped it, waiting for Tatsumi to look his way before he licked a stray drop from his lip.

“No questions, very well. We’ll have a five-minute coffee break then before our discussion.” As Konoe-kacho stood, Watari did as well, his white lab coat billowing around his form, concealing, hiding. Tatsumi nodded in his direction as he gathered his supplies and Wakaba called Watari to her.

In another hour or so, Watari would be alone again, with time to consider his next move. For now, he laughed and joined his friend, failing to notice the sparkle in Tatsumi’s eyes as he watched his progress through the room.

----

From: Watari Yutaka
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/04/03, Wed, 13:49
Tease
--------
I paid rapt attention to your lecture today,
Sensei. Unfortunately, some concepts still
escaped me. Perhaps we could arrange for
private tuition? I’d be *most* grateful.

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/04/03, Wed, 13:54
Re: Tease
--------
I do not usually give private lessons. Since
you’re so eager to learn, I think I will make an
exception though. That is, if the payment
corresponds to my expectations.

From: Watari Yutaka
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/04/03, Wed, 14:01
Re: Re: Tease
--------
You’re a hard man to please, Sensei. Very
hard indeed. I don’t have the financial re-
sources to adequately reimburse you for
your troubles, but I’m willing to offer you
dinner (and my body ;D). Would 20:30
suit you?

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/04/03, Wed, 14:05
Re: Re: Tease
--------
The time is convenient. Please prepare
the material you’d like to go over.
Till tonight.

“See, that’s what I meant, 003,” Watari indicated the computer screen in front of him. The little owl on his shoulder hooted in understanding, “He’s becoming quite adventurous. You should’ve seen him at the meeting. Such a tease, really hot.”

With a grin, Watari rubbed his hands together, “So, my partner in crime, any suggestions for this evening?”

----

Tatsumi teleported to Watari’s place on the dot, knocking briskly. Moments later, the door opened and Watari ushered him in, grinning. His hair was damp, leaving dark patches on his black tee shirt, which dangled out from his tight black jeans. The same jeans he’d been wearing in Kyoto, or at those two memorable staff meetings? The impudent wink and the wriggle of Watari’s hips seemed to indicate they were.

“Good to see you.”

“Did you think I’d change my mind, Watari?” Tatsumi slipped out of his shoes and hung up his suit jacket. Perhaps he should have changed, but he’d been drafting a response to a funding request from another division that Accounting had thought to forward to him. As if he’d fund anyone but his own.

“Not likely – your pride won’t let you back down once you’ve made a promise.”

“Very perceptive of you – here,” Tatsumi held out his offering. It had been half a century since he’d last had an official date, but giving a present never got out of style.

A slight intake of breath, then Watari chuckled, carefully accepting the bouquet of test tubes, tied with a black silk ribbon that looked suspiciously like the tie Tsuzuki had ruined a few months ago by spilling a gooey chocolate shake onto it.

“Using leftover clothing, were you?”

“Again, you’re very perceptive.”

“Few silk ribbons have the same pattern as your ties, Tatsumi.”

A slow smile, “That’s true.”

“Thanks a lot, Tatsumi.”

“My pleasure.”

Tying the three test tubes together had proven quite tricky, although Tatsumi had persisted. The idea was too good to pass up – more personal than chocolate and less kitschy than flowers. Not that sunflowers didn’t always remind him of Watari in their brilliance and their warmth – it was just a comparison he was sure previous admirers had overdone.

Watari’s hand landed on Tatsumi’s arm, dragging him into the living room. The test tubes were gently placed next to the Bunsen burner that warmed a pot of tea.

“It’s genmai,” Watari poured a cup, “would you like coffee?”

“Tea’s fine.”

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Something simple, Tsuzuki force-fed me the rest of Kannuki-san’s chocolate cake.”

“I take it Bon was in the library at that time.”

“Unfortunately yes; it should’ve been him.”

Watari laughed, settling onto the couch beside Tatsumi and digging his mobile out of the back pocket of his jeans. They were tight indeed, although Tatsumi found the wiggling and shifting to get at the little piece of technology worth watching. His smile deepened unconsciously.

“Enjoying the performance?”

“Would you be disappointed if I said no?”

“I’d be crushed,” Watari nudged Tatsumi gently, grinning, “There’s a restaurant round the block that’s got good traditional food. How about sake teppan (13) and miso?”

“Excellent idea. Don’t forget the rice.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sinking deeper into the couch, Tatsumi closed his eyes briefly, listening to Watari placing their order. The call was terminated with a little beep, but Tatsumi remained where he was, consciously willing his muscles to relax. Watari’s neighbours were watching a game show on TV, according to the sounds drifting through the thin wall.

Watari’s hand dropped to Tatsumi’s knee, warm and solid, and Tatsumi placed his own hand on top. He realised he’d been looking forward to the evening not only because it promised a new sexual experience and was surprised he hadn’t thought of how comfortable he was in Watari’s presence before.

The doorbell drew Tatsumi out of a light doze a few minutes later and he scrambled to sit up, squeezing the bridge of his nose automatically before righting his glasses. His eyes had adjusted to the light when Watari appeared in the living room again, carrying a tray with their dinner.

“Back among the waking, I see. Do you want the red or the green chopsticks?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Green then, the red are my favourite.”

When Watari set down the tray on the small table, Tatsumi noticed the thin silver metal on it. He carefully schooled his face, keeping a close watch on Watari setting out plates and bowls while his hand closed about his pointer, pulling it off the table and placing it onto the cough, beside his thigh.

“I saw that, Tatsumi,” Watari smiled, leaning across the table to brush his hand up Tatsumi’s thigh, “And I approve heartily of your dedication, Sensei.”

Tatsumi’s thigh was squeezed lightly as Watari kissed him quickly, pulling back with a grin, “Dinner first, though.”

“Quite right. I wouldn’t want you distracted by a rumbling stomach.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Hoot.”

“I think 003’s indicating you, Watari.”

“No, you; she’s my owl and therefore always on my side, right 003?” The little owl, having preened on the back of the couch, took flight and landed with a great ruffling of feathers on Tatsumi’s shoulder.

Watari laughed, shaking his finger at his pet, “I’ll remember that!”

003 hooted, flapping her wings against Tatsumi’s cheek and snuggling close to him, while Watari shared the food between two bowls and plates. They ate in silence, catching each other’s eye now and then and smiling. Watari winked a few times and Tatsumi shook his head. 003 commented their flirting with little hoots and wriggles and the neighbours turned their TV off.

“Some more miso?”

“No, thanks. I’m finished.”

“You didn’t eat much, Tatsumi.”

‘I’m not hungry’ was the first thing that came to his mind, but Tatsumi knew Watari would ask why and then he might start asking if Tatsumi was tired and that would only be procrastinating. Even if Tatsumi really was a little tired – he still wanted to feel Watari close, to make love to him. He couldn’t imagine being too tired for this.

“My mind was on dessert.”

“You can be so very naughty, Sensei.”

“I learnt from the best, Watari-kun.”

Pouting at the diminutive form of address, Watari retorted, “You should hold me in higher esteem, then.”

“Oh, I do. I do very much.”

“Then grab your pointer already, Sensei. I’ll only be a minute, you can think of a suitable punishment for my cheek in the meantime.”

Concentrating on the clacking noise of china being stacked, Tatsumi’s hand trailed across his thigh down to the pointer, his fingers closing firmly around the thin metal. He brought it up, examined it critically, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. Tatsumi only looked up again when he heard footsteps.

Watari stood in the doorway, naked, smiling. He bowed, coyly lowering his eyes, “I’ve come for my punishment, Sensei.”

Surprisingly, the expected rush of power didn’t come, although pleasure and anticipation did, tingling along Tatsumi’s spine, his arms, his fingers and even down to his toes. He cleared his throat, pushed his glasses up and kept his voice level as he answered, “Come here.”

Measured steps, artificial light illuminating Watari’s pale skin, the sculpture of muscle and sinew, plains and hollows of a masculine body, strong legs, and half-hard cock. Watari stopped in front of Tatsumi, eyes still downcast.

“Look at me, please.”

“As you wish, Sensei.” The whispered reply was teasing, promising something wicked. Tatsumi took a deep breath, felt the pounding of his heart, the blood rushing to his cock.

Knowing amber eyes regarded Tatsumi and Watari smiled, placing a hand on Tatsumi’s shoulder to steady himself. Watari’s voice was quiet, but firm, “Undress for me. I want to see your body react when you touch me.”

“As you wish, Sensei.” Watari chuckled as Tatsumi repeated his own line back at him. Tatsumi placed the pointer on the table, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt, drawing it out of his waistband. Watari lifted his hand only to allow Tatsumi to slip the shirt off his shoulders, returning at once to rest warm and reassuring on Tatsumi’s bare shoulder.

Trousers, socks, and underwear followed Tatsumi’s shirt, all of it hung across the back of the couch to be forgotten. Finally, Tatsumi was naked, too, still sitting on the couch. He accepted the pointer Watari gave him and put a hand on Watari’s hip to steady him.

As the cool, smooth metal drew its first line along his collarbones, Watari gasped and shivered, his hand flexing briefly on Tatsumi’s shoulder. Their gazes locked and held as Tatsumi moved the pointer carefully, trailing it around a stiffening nipple and down Watari’s side, eliciting a chuckle.

“Careful, ‘m ticklish.” A wide smile accompanied the words and Watari’s fingers danced up Tatsumi’s arm in a light caress, coming to rest curled around the side of his neck, thumb stroking Tatsumi’s jaw.

The pointer moved further down, tracing the contours of Watari’s ribs and stomach, a bumpy road along hard muscles that tightened as the thin metal passed by. It skimmed lower still, down a strong thigh and up again. Tatsumi broke eye contact, concentrated on Watari’s cock, and waited for the quickening breath, the soft gasps as he trailed the stiff metal along the heated flesh. His own cock was aching in counterpoint, he held his breath, filled his senses with Watari: sight, sound, and smell.

Catching a drop of pre-come on the pointer, Tatsumi brought it to his mouth, closing his lips around the tip as he looked back up at Watari. The hand on Watari’s hip tightened, pulling him another step forward, standing between Tatsumi’s spread legs. Licking the end of the pointer once more, Tatsumi put it on the table and turned sideways, stretching out on the couch and pulling his legs up.

Tatsumi closed his eyes in anticipation when Watari leaned across him, kneeling on the couch, rubbing his hand from Tatsumi’s thigh to his flank.

“You trust me?”

He didn’t take long to answer, “Yes.”

“Keep your eyes closed.”

Tatsumi nodded. He heard quick scratches and the rustling of paper, then a plop he recognised as the lid of the lube. He was poised, tense, waiting, needing – he shivered at the light, cool pressure teasing his opening, thin and hard; Tatsumi moaned loudly, heard Watari’s breathless chuckle.

“You like it.”

Tatsumi parted his legs further, lifting his lips, allowing the tip of the pointer to breach him. Watari’s hand on his knee gripped him tightly, “Look at me.”

Ruffled blond hair, shining eyes, glasses that had slid down Watari’s nose, flushed cheeks, proudly erect cock – red and glistening.

“Can’t wait.”

The pointer clattered to the floor, Watari’s slick fingers pressed inside Tatsumi, stretching him quickly. Erratic shadows flickered across the walls, found the lube and carried it into Tatsumi’s hand. He squeezed some onto his fingers, wrapping them around Watari’s hot cock, preparing him.

“Now.”

Strong hands on Tatsumi, opening him, helping guide Watari’s cock, a slow, steady pressure that pushed deeper and deeper. Tatsumi’s hands flexed on Watari’s hips, pulling him closer, finally inside.

“Move.”

“Pushy, Sensei?”

“Only for you.”

Watari’s low laugh accompanied his first thrusts, then his breath hitched, and their moans and gasps were all their communication. The slap of flesh on sweat-slicked flesh, the rhythmic creaking of the couch and their voices combined. Tatsumi’s hand drifted to his cock, pulling and rubbing, so close when Watari found his prostrate. Tatsumi lifted his hips further, driving Watari’s cock deeper and Watari growled, sliding one hand up Tatsumi’s damp skin to grasp his jaw and pull him up enough for their mouths to meet for a wet, messy kiss, more tongue than lips.

Pleasure rushed through Tatsumi and he tensed, his engorged cock releasing between them, warm and sticky. Watari followed moments later and Tatsumi groaned low in throat. Watari was draped across him, chest heaving, lips and tongue skimming his neck as they both trembled in the aftermath.

They lay tangled for a few minutes, then dragged themselves up, the sticky mess between them leaving a few stains on the couch.

Tatsumi eyed them critically, “Shall we…”

“Leave them; I’ve got a miracle stain remover somewhere. I’ll try it out next time I clean the flat.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yep. Let’s shower.”

With a nod, Tatsumi followed Watari, stepping right onto a crumpled piece of paper. He bent to pick it up, the stretch in his ass making him smile, “What’s that?”

The paper sported a strangely shaped hole. Watari looked at it, laughed, “I had the lube in the bedroom. Couldn’t leave you, so I just drew it out of the paper.”

“Clever little trick.”

“Thanks. I could put together an act for the next office party.”

“You could magically supply us with sweets.”

“Cheapskate.”

“I’m only practical.”

Another laugh, “I’ll think about it. Shower now, I want to snuggle.”

A sigh, “Always demanding.”

“Only with you. Come on now.”

Tatsumi shook his head, padding into the bathroom behind his lover. He was smiling.

----

“Good morning.”

Watari groaned as he was shaken awake a little too enthusiastically. He cracked an eye open and saw the blurry figure he assumed was Tatsumi still bent over him.

“Wha-s time?”

“6:15; I’m sorry to wake you, but I have to be in the office early today and I need to get some clothes. You popped three buttons off my shirt last night.”

“Didn’t hear you complain.”

“I was otherwise occupied at the time. I just wanted to give you a present.”

“Oh.” Watari hadn’t forgotten his birthday, he’d just not woken up properly to realise it was April the eighteenth today.

“Here,” Tatsumi held out a small parcel, newspaper wrapped with a little black bow, “your other present looks better.”

“My other…,” Watari smiled, pulling himself up and wrapping Tatsumi in a hug, “Why are you giving me this now?”

“Open it.”

The paper didn’t stand a chance, Watari pulled it apart quickly to reveal a CD case, “ABBA? I hadn’t thought you’d heard of them,” he turned the case around to read the track list and chuckled when he noticed the song that was circled with gold marker and decorated with exclamation marks, “When I Kissed the Teacher, I really like that.”

This made it very clear to Watari why Tatsumi hadn’t wanted to give the CD to him in plain view of the whole office; Tsuzuki would have asked why, especially if Watari had started chuckling so conspicuously.

“We could listen to it tonight.”

“After dinner – I found a small Italian place we haven’t been to yet. Is 20:00 alright with you?”

“Yes, perfect.”

Rising, Tatsumi brushed his hand against Watari’s cheek, “I’ll see you at work.”

“Thank you.”

Tatsumi didn’t look back as he closed the door behind him. It was as close as he’d ever come to speak of his feelings. He only hoped that Watari understood.

Sitting in bed, blankets tangled around his legs, Watari smiled with sparkling eyes, stroking his fingers across the exclamation marks on the CD cover.

----

“I hope you didn’t find your present too … personal.”

“ABBA was meant to be personal, wasn’t it?”

“Ah, yes. But I was actually referring to …”

A slight nudge and a smile, “I like it, Tatsumi. Very much so. Sure, the lengthy explanation you gave Tsuzuki as to why you bought me a teapot warmer only made Bon look the more sceptical…”

“Tsuzuki found it perfectly satisfactory.”

“Oh come on. Not even Tsuzuki believes that you locked yourself out and came to me for help with the key, because you couldn’t reach me on my mobile. And then, it was raining, which is why I asked you in, which is when you saw that I used a Bunsen burner to keep my tea warm?”

“I might have exaggerated a bit. You mind?”

“That they know there’s something between us?”

“Yes.”

“No. And Tatsumi, Bon knew anyway. At least since that office meeting and my stunt at the back of the room. I assume you didn’t notice the fetching redness of his ears when you retaliated with a pointer attack of your own.”

A startled chuckled escaped Tatsumi, “Oh.”

“Oh indeed. So, Sensei, shall we listen to the wise words of someone else who kissed their teacher and see if I can make you blush?”

“I somehow feel I will regret getting you that CD.”

The evil glint in Watari’s eyes was probably answer enough.

----

May began cloudy and wet and because Terazuma came down with the flu, Watari worked a few cases with Wakaba. While he liked the challenge of field work, Watari was still happy to be able to return to his lab and his own, far quieter sector after a week.

“What do you think? Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”

“Hooooot.”

A nudge with a finger, and 003 moved from Watari’s keyboard. Yuki, his friend from Meifu’s main research department, had asked him for help with a job or two, as they were overrun and there was only one other mass spectrometer available in Meifu.

“You think Tatsu-chan’s looking forward to a little bit of fun, 003?”

The little owl didn’t comment, intent as she was on preening at the moment. Watari shrugged, smiled, and sent off his e-mail. He hoped there were no pressing cases at the moment, he hadn’t yet had the opportunity to work a lot with Tatsu-chan and he was looking forward to it.

From: Watari@Shokan.net
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/05/14, Tue, 09:23
Subject: research requests
--------
Have just been contacted by Yuki.
He said there were a few requests for
mass spectrometer analyses they couldn’t
cover. Unless there’s a new case for me,
I’ll tell him to send them over.

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/05/14, Tue, 09:52
Re: research requests
--------
No cases for you at the moment; have they
offered adequate compensation for your
time?

From: Watari@Shokan.net
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/05/14, Tue, 10:11
Re: Re: research requests
--------
<< offered adequate compensation >>
Define adequate. Yuki didn’t mention anything.

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/05/14, Tue, 10:14
Re: Re: research requests
--------
In that case, please tell me how long the analyses
will take. I’ll check with Yuki-san and the other
divisions about payment, then.
And do NOT stark working until we’ve been
guaranteed payment, Watari. We’re not
selling you short.

From: Watari@Shokan.net
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/05/14, Tue, 10:21
Re: Re: research requests
--------
<< We’re not selling you short. >>
Why, Tatsumi, that’s sweet of you *g*
I’ll wait for your ok, no problem. I
already phoned Yuki and he said he’d
send you an e-mail asap.
Are we meeting for lunch?

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/05/14, Tue, 10:27
Re: Re: research requests
--------
I can’t, sorry, have a lunch meeting with Nonomiya.
How about tea, around 15:00 in the break room?

From: Watari@Shokan.net
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/05/14, Tue, 10:31
Re: Re: research requests
--------
15:00 then.
Anything I should know about? Security problems?

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/05/14, Tue, 10:42
Re: Re: research requests
--------
No, nothing to worry about. Nonomiya and I meet
periodically to review progress reports. Our chiefs
don’t talk to each other, so we thought we might
as well take care of matters.
I’ll tell you over tea.

From: Watari@Shokan.net
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/05/14, Tue, 10:45
Re: Re: research requests
--------
<< I’ll tell you over tea. >>
Right. Have a good time with Nonomiya and say
‘hi’ for me.

Tatsumi smiled. As if there was any way Nonomiya could give him what Watari did. However, it was good to know Watari was just a little bit jealous, too.

----

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/06/05, Wed, 18:29
Subject: Tonight
--------
Will be working late tonight.
The half-year budget reports are due end of June;
Tsuzuki went overboard on sweets last week,
and Terazuma transformed while on duty in a
kindergarten so we had to call in reinforcements.
I have to fix the reports tonight, Konoe-kacho
wants to see the drafts tomorrow.
Please don’t wait up for me.

From: Watari@Shokan.net
To: Tatsumi@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/06/05, Wed, 18:35
Re: Tonight
--------
Don’t overdo it. You need sleep.

From: Tatsumi Seiichirou
To: Watari@Shokan.net
Date: 2002/06/05, Wed, 18:33
Re: Re: Tonight
--------
I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night,
Watari.

A little past two in the morning, Watari woke from the sound of the key turning in the lock. He yawned, the book he’d been reading slipping off his stomach and landing on the floor. A few moments later, Tatsumi appeared in the doorway, no doubt lured by the warm glow of Watari’s reading light.

He’d taken off his suit jacket and his tie was half-undone, hanging limply and crookedly around his neck. He was slumped and looked almost asleep on his feet.

"Come here," Watari held out his hand, watching with narrowed eyes as Tatsumi crossed the room.

It wasn’t Tatsumi’s fault that the Accounting division wasn’t as organised as he was and kept asking stupid questions as close to the deadline as possible in the vain hope of catching Tatsumi unawares and later turning down the proposed budget due to omissions or errors. Watari was pretty sure that they’d never won this little private war; Tatsumi was too good.

However, just now, Tatsumi was before him, pale, with a hint of dark shadows under his eyes, which were slitted to stave off the light in the room so as not to strengthen his headache.

In the past years, Watari had been called upon to provide Tatsumi with pills and coffee during the accounting seasons; but he’d never been the one Tatsumi came home to in such a state.

Tatsumi reached the couch and took Watari’s hand, the other running through his already dishevelled hair and mussing it further.

Watari leant forward, took Tatsumi’s arm in a firm grip, his hand coming to rest on Tatsumi's waist as he pulled him forward, guiding him to sit astride his legs. He wrapped one arm around broad shoulders, holding Tatsumi against his chest while he took off his glasses and placed them on the low table in front of them.

"Poor Sensei, so tense," Watari mumbled, slowly circling his hand against the tightened muscles of Tatsumi’s neck, loosening tensions. Tatsumi sighed as Watari worked his hands lower to knead his spine and shoulder blades.

Tatsumi closed his eyes, hoping the pills he’d taken before leaving the office would stop the pounding in his skull soon. He was tired, his neck was sore, his back hurt, and his eyes stung.

Watari’s skilled touches made it easier to exhale, to sink further into his lover's warmth, the soothing caress of his fingers and the comforting scent of clean skin. Watari's hair was loose, wayward strands stroking against Tatsumi's cheek where his head lay cushioned on Watari's shoulder.

"Comfortable?" Tatsumi gave a soft sigh of agreement, and Watari's hand tangled in mussed dark hair, stroking as he managed to pull Tatsumi's shirt out of his pants enough to brush his fingers across the warm skin of his back. Tatsumi gave a sound that was half-moan and half-purr, and Watari felt his body grow heavier as he gave in to exhaustion, pushing Watari further down into the cushions.

Watari softly began to sing, while he kept stroking Tatsumi’s back and hair. Wo Ai Ni (15) – the words they never said, that weren’t needed between them: I love you. Watari kept singing until he heard the first soft snores. He smiled, pushed a bit, shifted his weight, and wriggled Tatsumi off his lap and onto the couch.

It took Watari a while to get Tatsumi’s shirt and tie off. He leaned Tatsumi against his shoulder as he stripped him slowly, brushing his hands against the warm skin, dropping a few kisses here and there. He noticed the ghost of a smile playing around Tatsumi's lips, the gentle touches evoking the feeling of comfort and warmth he was meaning to project. Tatsumi’s snoring became a little louder.

Not long after, Watari had settled Tatsumi and himself comfortably on the couch, covering them with the blanket he’d thrown across a nearby chair that afternoon. Tatsumi’s body moulded to Watari’s as they spooned together, with Tatsumi’s head pillowed on Watari's chest.

When 003 returned from her night hunt a little past three, she hooted approvingly at the sight of her humans sleeping curled up around each other. She landed on the couch and hopped across Watari’s shoulder to pull the blanket up a little higher with her claws.

Once she considered her humans appropriately covered, she settled onto Watari's head, tucking her head beneath her wing and wriggling a little to make the blonde locks a more comfortable nest for the rest of the night.

----

Some people might have found a detailed, scientific, and technical explanation of the role played by a mass spectrometer in a spectacular case involving a Chijou resident and a ring of drug dealers as well as the GuShouShin brothers unnecessary. If asked, the employees of the Shokan division would have unanimously declared that a report was to be filed – cursorily read and stamped by Tatsumi – and then the matter was to be forgotten.

In this case, Watari had forgone the written forms and asked to give his report orally. Frankly, he hadn’t thought Tatsumi would do it, deviate from his usually so steadfastly set course of action and come to the lab. But he had and was now listening attentively to each new twist in Watari’s tale.

Watari was gesturing first to his computer screen, where he clicked through seemingly endless Powerpoint slides, then to the mass spectrometer, and back again. All the while, Tatsumi leant against the side of Watari’s desk, his gaze steady on Watari’s face, the flush in his cheeks and the sparkle in his eyes. He smiled.

“So, what do you think?”

“You’re amazing.”

“Yeah, I know, that was a nice piece of work I did there.”

“Indeed.”

A slight frown crossed Watari’s features, then he grinned, “Did you listen to anything I said?”

“Your enthusiasm is infectious.”

“Don’t change the topic.”

“No.”

Watari’s chair swivelled around and Watari rose in one fluid motion, “So what did you do, then?”

With a surprisingly wicked smile, Tatsumi picked up a notepad, wrote down a few words and held the paper out to Watari: Your passion put to better use in a more private setting.

The laugh that sounded through the laboratory was all the answer Tatsumi needed.

“And you say I’m sex obsessed, Tatsumi-sensei.”

“I’ll see you later, Watari-kun.”

A nod from Watari and Tatsumi left, edging just a little into Watari’s space as he let his hand rest on Watari’s shoulder before skimming down his arm in a brief caress.

Some minutes later, Watari’s e-mail alert beeped. 003, reading from Watari’s shoulder, gave an annoyed screech and flew off with a great flurry of feathers.

“I perfectly agree, girl. Tatsumi’s just as depraved as I am.”

Later that day, a print-out of the e-mail found its way into Tatsumi’s bedside drawer.

----

FIN.

There is no safe sex in this story. This is because
a) Tatsumi and Watari lived in times when AIDS was not yet an issue.
b) Now, Tatsumi and Watari are both dead and I believe Shinigami are therefore unlikely to contract STDs or HIV.
In real life, condoms are your friends and protect you and your partner. Better be safe than sorry.

NOTES

(1) Chijou = Earth; Meifu = Land of the Dead/Hell; the Shokan (Summons’) division is where the Shinigami work.
(2) Kagankokushungei is Terazuma’s symbiotic Shikigami, i.e. the lion with red eyes he transforms into.
(3) Threewalls pointed out that in Vol 11 of the manga, Tatsumi’s e-mail address is given as 'koganemusi@xx...'; I think, however, that it’s less confusing with Tatsumi@Shokan.net, so I’ve kept it.
(4) Satomi-sensei is the doctor Muraki has contact with in the Kyoto arc. He works at Shion University and is a capacity in genetics – he wants to put a body together like Frankenstein – Muraki is supplying him with “parts”, until Satomi becomes a hindrance to his plans.
(5) Chuugoku (GokanChou) is the fourth sector where Terazuma and Wakaba work.
(6) Gensoukai (dream world) is where the Shikigami live.
(7) Genmai tea is green tea with rice pops; smells delicious and has a smooth taste.
(8) Daifuku: soft rice cake with sweet filling.
(9) “Love seeketh not itself to please” is the first line of William Blake’s poem ‘The Clod and the Pebble’ (from the Songs of Experience).
(10) The “dishonour” I mention is the elopement of Tatsumi’s mother with a man, who, unlike her, wasn’t of noble birth (theria.net).
(11) ‘To be or not to be’ obviously belongs to Shakespeare (Hamlet), but ‘To fund or not to fund’ is my baby ;D. I wasn’t able to resist.
(12) Lynn Dyre suggested the mass spectrometer as an appropriate scientific “gadget”. Many thanks for that! Information on the mass spectrometer – also used on the TV series “CSI – Crime Scene Investigation” comes from:
http://www.spectroscopynow.com/Spy/basehtml/SpyH/1,,4-1-1-0-0-news_detail-0-1902,00.html
http://www.thermo.com/eThermo/CDA/Products/Product_Detail/1,1075,18759-113,00.html
(13) According to a post online, a mass spectrometer of the kind used in “CSI” costs about USD 150,000 or EUR 115,700 or JPY 16,100,000 – Universal Currency Converter and http://www.sciscoop.com/story/2003/3/25/122245/139.
(14) Sake teppan: salmon strips fried (with little fat) on a steel-plate grill. At the restaurant where I ate it, butterfish and tuna strips were included, as well as fried bean sprouts. Miso soup is a soy paste soup with algae and tofu.
(15) “Wo Ai Ni” (‘I love you’ in Chinese) is a song performed by Toshihiko Seki, Watari’s seiyuu (i.e. voice actor). It’s soft, somewhat sensual, and stunningly beautiful. Toshihiko- san’s voice, that is, though the song’s lovely too ;D.