AUTHOR: Macx and Lara Bee

DISCLAIMER: not ours. Definitely not! We just play with them and hope we tread on no one's toes.

Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my our language; it’s German. This is the best we can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize <g> The spell-checker said everything's okay, but  you know how trustworthy those thingies are.....

ARCHIVE: yes

WARNINGS: violence

Additional warning: due to recent comments concerning our other stories we expressively want to point out that this is an AU, which means: we play with the characters of the canon manga and give them a little of our flavor. All background for Watari is made up; we repeat: it's made up! The mangaka gave no hint as to what his past was like, so we did it for her. This is *our* take. This is NOT canon.
 

TYPE: yaoi

RATING: NC-17

PAIRING: Tatsumi/Watari,  OMC/Watari (Flashbacks)

FEEDBACK: empty inbox seeks emails <g>
 
 

 The weekend had come and gone. Two days, and Friday evening for that matter, had been spent in the company of the man he loved. Watari Yutaka entered the Judicial Building of Meifu with a bright smile on his face, a bounce in his step, and the knowledge that his lover was feeling just as good as he was.

 Tatsumi had gone in early, as usual, and Watari had woken to the smell of coffee, warm food in the oven and a note that they would see each other later.

 He wasn’t fazed by the early hours; he had known Tatsumi for all his undead existence and becoming partners had meant getting to know him on a different level, already accepting what he knew about the man. Tatsumi was a work-a-holic, though not to the brink of complete exhaustion. He took his job seriously and he had a responsibility that warranted the overtime.

 Watari lived with it, and he lived well with it.

 Remembering the weekend he had to say they both lived well with it.

 It had been almost a year now since they had finally gotten together as more than colleagues, and it had been a year that had shown Watari a lot about the man who was both his boss and a friend. It had given him an insight into Tatsumi Seiichiro few people probably got. He suspected Tsuzuki knew more about the older shinigami than he let on, but that was only a wild guess. There was a depth to the Shadow Master that many thought unreachable, that they would never be allowed to look so deep, but Watari had. He had looked, he had seen, and he had understood. Like all shinigami serving Enma-Daiou, Tatsumi was a wounded soul that had been given a chance as an angel of death. Like Watari and Tsuzuki and Terazuma, and everyone else, his past was far from happy.

 Happy people didn’t become shinigami. Happy people went on, their souls didn’t cling to life. Watari had his own painful past to deal with and he had yet to let Tatsumi know more about him than the secretary probably knew from the files. Sometimes he wondered if Tatsumi would ask, if he would want to know; sometimes he dreaded it.

 But the past year had been good. It chased away his dark thoughts from time to time, had helped him recover from the demon attack on his mind, and it had given him a security like nothing else ever had. Tatsumi was safety, was warmth and empathy, and he was stability. Tatsumi meant the world to him and he would never willingly give him up.

 Whistling softly Watari entered the lab, looking around his home away from home, and clapped his hands together.

 “Okay, let’s get going!”

 003 fluttered from her perch on his shoulder to a new outlook, the computer screen, and hooted in agreement. He chuckled as large, yellow eyes watched him expectantly.

 “You think emails first, hm?”

 She hooted again, nodding her tiny head.

 “Well, let’s see what has collected in the inbox over the weekend."

 And he set to work.

###

 It was just after his first coffee break that Watari got a call from Konoe and the information that there was a case for him. Surprised by the fact that his usually so quiet and uneventful sector had apparently spawned a case worthy of a shinigami’s attention, Watari walked into the office. Tatsumi was already there, as not otherwise expected, and he flashed his blue-eyed lover a small smile. Nothing tell-tale, nothing private, just a warm smile that Watari would bestow on a colleague as a greeting. He got the same in return.

 “We have a new case,” Tatsumi announced, opening the manila folder lying on the desk. “And it looks like a big one. The soul in question appeared in the books this morning and apparently it’s a bit more complicated than just someone who’s not letting go.”

 Watari frowned, listening up. “Why? What’s wrong?”

 “The man’s name is Fujikama Yukihito. He’s the head of a large business company and was abroad for the last twenty years. He hasn’t been to Japan for all that time, spending his life traveling the globe. He came back this morning and we got notified of something quite outstanding: he’s dead.”

 Watari had frozen at the name, his mind flashing through memories of a similar name, of a man he knew, of places they had been together, of… his past. But the man he knew had died with him over thirty years ago; he was dead.

 Like this man should be.

A mere coincidence?

 Fate, he mused dimly.

 “His soul is still in the world of the living,” Tatsumi went on, “but according to the books we checked he isn’t alive and hasn't been for quite a while; decades actually. Because he was abroad we never got a notification of this irregularity, and the foreign offices missed him again and again.”

 “The foreign offices?” Watari blurted, surprised.

 That was new. Of course, they worked in cooperation and conjunction with every single department of the underworld, be it Europe, Africa, the Americas or anywhere else. Usually there was little contact. They all had their own problems and border incidents were rare; rare to non-existent.

 Tatsumi nodded, looking grave. “He set off alarm bells all over the world. He never stayed long enough for any guardian, whatever the department, to get a hold of him. Now that he’s back in his home land, he’s our responsibility, and since he’s landed in Osaka and is staying there, it’s your sector, Watari.”

 Watari nodded, more and more intrigued, his mind already starting to work on several hypothesis and possibilities. It sounded like the man in question knew that his soul was being chased by guardians and was evading them, but how should he? He was dead but unaware of it… but… if his soul was supposed to be dead, why was his body still working? A dead soul usually destroyed the body within a year of its death, making it unusable. The soul would then free itself and roam around, possess others, cling to life like a leech…

 Something was not right.

 Blue eyes met golden ones and Tatsumi smiled grimly. “You’re noticing the discrepancies already?”

 Watari nodded. “If he’s been traveling the world for decades… he can’t be dead.”

 “According to the books he is,” Konoe finally entered the conversation. “Investigate the case, Watari, and bring him to Meifu. But be careful.”

 The blond nodded. Of course he would be. Maybe there was more involved that the fervent wish to stay alive; maybe it was something demonic, too.

 “Tatsumi will be coming with you since you have no regular partner.”

 As if that would be a problem, Watari mused, happy to work with the Shadow Master again.

 Tatsumi handed him the file. “Read it. We’ll be off to Osaka in an hour. I’ve gotten us hotel rooms for the time being.”

 He nodded and flicked through the files, then froze as he looked at the picture of the dead man.

 Fujikama Yukihito…

 No… impossible!

 Watari felt his mind whirl. No, no, no! He was dead!

 I saw you die! part of him screamed. You died with me!

 Another part was simply numb.

 “Watari?”

 The voice came like from far away. He looked up, into the blue eyes that meant so much to him and that were nothing like the dark brown ones he remembered from another life.

 “Watari, you all right?” Tatsumi asked.

 “Uh, yes. I… I’ll see you in an hour.”

 And with that he was out of the office, almost running down the corridor, clutching the file.

########

 Osaka was beautiful this time of the year, but Watari had no eye for the brightly colored shops, the people moving all around them, chatting, shopping, going to or coming from work. He had no sense for the warm sun, the slight breeze, or looked at the flowers blooming in the small park he and Tatsumi had passed through on their way to the Fujikama Corporation headquarters in Japan.

 Fujikama Yukihito.

 The name was circling around and around in his head, the picture... especially the picture.

 It couldn't be him! he screamed at himself. He's dead. It's someone who looks like him, could be his twin, and has the same name, and... and who're you deceiving, Yutaka? Fujikama Yukihito should have died over thirty years ago, just like the namesake Watari had known, and he had evaded capture by any guardian all over the globe for the last two decades.

 But... why? How...?

 "Here we are," Tatsumi announced and drew him out of his thoughts. Sharp eyes behind thin glasses looked at his partner. "You okay?"

 "Yes, fine," Watari answered automatically as he looked up the skyscraper.

 So this was the place.

 Glass and steel and reeking of money. The Fujikama Corporation headquarters.

 "What's the plan?" he asked.

 "All we know about the man is that he evaded us and everyone else who could recognize his undead state, that he kept himself hidden and didn't return to our jurisdiction until now. It suggests he knows what he is," Tatsumi explained. "I want to know more about him, check him out, see if we can find any signs of devil or demon intervention. He might have sold his soul to darkness. If that's so, we need to free it and take it with us."

 Watari nodded slowly. "Won't be easy. He's a corporate head."

 Tatsumi smiled wryly. "I didn't expect it to be."

########

 No, he hadn't expected it to be easy, but he also hadn't expected it to be this hard. Not the case, which was getting more and more interesting by the hour, but his partner. Tatsumi had watched Watari ever since the other shinigami had started to behave so unlike his normal, cheerful self. There was hardly anything that got Watari Yutaka down, and a case had never been the reason for the blond to look like he was about to throw up or worse. Watari had few complicated cases, but he handled everything with a professional attitude.

 It was when he didn't find him in the hotel room they shared that Tatsumi truly began to worry. Especially since 003 was there, looking forlorn and lost. She landed on his shoulder, hooting softly and Tatsumi stretched out a finger and scratched the little bird.

 "Your master left you here all by your lonely self, hm?" he said and 003 hooted in agreement.

 That was definitely not like the scientist, forgetting about his little companion like that.

 "Let's go find him, 003."
 

 Watari was a hard man to chase when he didn't want to be found, and though Tatsumi followed every hint, he didn't catch up with him.  003, usually able to find her master wherever he went, was no great help. Either Watari knew a way to really ditch his little companion, or 003 thought he needed the head start for now. The receptionist had told him that his lover had left about two hours ago, asking for a few drinking establishment. That had gotten Tatsumi's alarms ringing. Knowing his colleague and lover he knew that Watari usually didn't drink, and with him being a shinigami it was almost impossible to get drunk in the first place.

 Hours later, after having visited pub after pub, he finally was back at the hotel, tired, angry, worried and strangely lost as to what was going on. 003 had remained with him all evening, silent, looking as worried as an owl could.

 Tatsumi walked into the hotel room again and there he was. Watari Yutaka. Reclining on one of the beds, dressed in only a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, hair open, the TV running. On the night stand were two bottles of alcohol, a third in his hand. One was empty, the one in his hand on its way to emptiness.

 "Taka?" Tatsumi asked.

 The golden eyes behind the glasses looked far from glassy and dazed from alcohol, but there was an expression in there that had Tatsumi wince.

 "What happened?" the Shadow Master asked.

 "Nothing." Watari's eyes were back on the flickering images on the TV.

 Tatsumi closed the door and locked it, then walked over to the bed and wordlessly grabbed the bottle Watari was still holding.

 Golden eyes glared at him.

 "I'm asking again: what happened? You don't drink, Yutaka."

 "So I do now. Give that back. I paid for it!"

 "No."

 The blond glared more. Tatsumi calmly held that furious look. When nothing else came forth from the Shadow Master, Watari slid off the bed, a lot steadier than one might think with one and a half bottles of alcohol in his system – shinigami could drink a lot.

 "Yutaka!"

 He stopped, back to Tatsumi, looking stiff and tense.

 "Ever since the briefing you've been... not yourself. What's going on? Talk to me!"

 "I can't."

 "If you can't talk to me... then to who?"

 Watari was silent once more, then his shoulders slumped. "The man... whose soul we're supposed to bring back... I know him. Fujikama Yukihito... I knew him once."

 Tatsumi frowned. "You do? How?"

 "It's been a while." Watari started to pace. "Too long. I had forgotten about it, or so I wished. I wanted to forget it because it was part of a life that ceased decades ago. I was young, idealistic..." He gave a short bark of laughter.

 Tatsumi watched his agitated lover pace across the room, totally ignoring even the little owl. 003 hooted in frustration and landed on his shoulder, clicking her beak softly.

 "All I ever did was make a fool out of myself. I believed that my life before death was just history... over. I've been dead for over thirty years and I never missed it. I never wanted to go back... because I thought he had died there, too. He was there, Tatsumi."

 The Shadow Master frowned, not yet clear about what Watari was going on about.

 "Taka, would you stop for a second, please?"

 Watari stopped, huge golden eyes regarding his lover. Tatsumi held them, expression empathetic and soft, but also firm enough to let the younger man know he wanted more than just a few rambled words.

 "You know Fujikama?" he questioned.

 A nod. Watari ran a hand through his unruly hair. "He was supposed to die thirty years ago."

 "That's already known. I've read the file, too."

 "No, you don't understand! He was supposed to die with me!"

 Tatsumi blinked, his mind already working overtime.

 With him? With Watari?

 "With you?"

 "Yes! In the same explosion! He was there! He was right there with me, Seii! How can he be alive today?!"

 Before Watari could continue his pacing Tatsumi grabbed his lover's arm and pulled him down onto the bed with him. He felt the tremors running through the slender form, felt the harsh pants, and Watari was too pale for his liking. It had nothing to do with the alcohol; this was more.

 "Explain."

 Watari inhaled. "Fujikama and I were... friends. We were on the same university, studying together and... we worked in the same company, even on the same project. We were heading for a major breakthrough when something went horribly wrong. I don't know what it was, but there had to be some miscalculation. One moment we were joking, then... there was just fire. It was hell. Yuki... he was there, too. I saw him through the flames. I saw his silhouette. It was the last I can remember before dying. I know he was there. He died! But... Tatsumi, he looks the same as back then. He hasn't aged a single day. "

 Tatsumi felt the body beside him shiver and he wrapped his arms around Watari in a protective gesture. His mind had already come to a conclusion he wasn't sure he liked. Yet he had to ask.

 "You were more than friends?" he asked quietly, still caressing the slender back in a calming way.

 Watari tensed and he pressed a little kiss on the tousled hair.

 "Taka?" he whispered, prompting him.

 "I loved him." Watari looked at him, eyes still haunted. "He was the first man I loved... Tatsumi, why is he still alive? That explosion... the fire... it was everywhere... he was right beside me that day and I was trapped in the flames. Why is he still alive? Why hasn't he aged? What happened back then?"

 Tatsumi pulled his younger lover close, stroking over the blond mane reassuringly.

 "That's what we're here for to find out, Taka."

 And they would. Holding the other shinigami, listening to his harsh breathing, just being there for him until he finally quieted down, Tatsumi wondered what could have really happened back then, thirty years ago. He knew Watari's file inside out, just like he knew everyone else's. He knew how his lover had died, that the building had been completely destroyed. No one could have survived.

 No one.

 But someone had, someone by the name of Fujikama Yukihito.

Who happened to be his lover's lover.

 Tatsumi could think of a few explanations as to what could be the reason, and he knew none of them would be preferable to the other. For now though he had someone to take care of. Tomorrow was another day and they could start unraveling the mystery.

########

 Tatsumi woke to the absence of his lover. The bed was empty, the spot where Watari had fallen asleep in his arms, drained of emotions, was cold.  The Shadow Master listened for running water from the bathroom and heard none. There was no noise from any corner of the room, which meant Watari wasn't here.

 He slowly got out of bed and made sure that he wasn't mistaken, and he wasn't. Watari had left the hotel room.

 A frown creased his smooth forehead and he slowly got dressed after a brief shower. There was no note, nothing, as to where his lover might have gone.

 He called the front desk to see if there had been any messages, but he got a negative on that, too.

 Oh, Taka, he thought with a sigh. Please don't tell me you did something foolish!

 Knowing Watari he just might have; to prove something to himself or to Tatsumi.

########

It was stupid. It was an idiotic idea, but that idea had kept him up all night after dozing off from exhaustion in Tatsumi's arms. Lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft breaths of his lover, Watari had wondered what to do.

And then it had struck him.

 Watari knew he shouldn't do this, but there was something inside of him driving him on to do it anyway. Tatsumi just wanted to protect him, but he didn't need protection. He was a shinigami, this was his job, and his old life was... dead. History. He was no longer the young, idealistic science student who had fallen in love with his friend. He wasn't the man who had died so suddenly, so violently in a lab fire. He was a shinigami, a guardian, an angel of death, and he had a job to do.

He could do this job, had done it to Enma-Daiou's satisfaction for thirty years, and this little... incident wouldn't give him bad marks all of a sudden.

Leaving the hotel, actually sneaking out of the room, Watari had soon realized that he was acting like a child. As if he had to prove something. Maybe he had, but to whom? Himself? Tatsumi?

His lover from thirty years ago was alive, had survived the very same fire that had killed Watari Yutaka, and now he was here to get him. But not only that. He would also get some answers as to what had happened that day.

 Materializing in the main office of Fujikama Yukihito was no problem at all. There was no need for subtlety; the job required to get the man and that was what they would do. No sneaking into the corporation to find out more, no second thoughts like Tsuzuki mostly had about a person. Find the man, get the soul, bring him to Meifu.

 That was all.

 Watari steeled himself for what he would find and was surprised that the office empty of human life. Well, so much for that plan. It would have been too easy to just come in here, grab Fujikama and leave. Go somewhere to get answers, to catch up on those missing moments when he had died and Fujikama had lived. Somewhere their paths had gone different ways and Watari was desperate to find out when and why.

Did he regret dying? Yes, sometimes. Sometimes every shinigami wondered what could have been, if it might have turned out different, if there had been a way to stay alive. Watari's death had been an accident, not self-inflicted. Today he would be well in his fifties, maybe running a lab, maybe more. He might be famous or just an old eccentric, with young staff shaking their heads.

He smiled slightly.

Yes, sometimes he wondered.

And sometimes he didn't. Most of the times, really.

 Oh well...

 He looked around and sighed, ready to leave.

 "I've been expecting you," a voice suddenly startled him and Watari froze.

 He had appeared invisibly, but had dropped the pretense when there had been no life sign. Whirling around he found himself face to face with a man he had loved over thirty years ago.

 "Hello, Yutaka. Long time no see. You haven't changed a bit."

 White teeth flashed in a suntanned face; dark brown eyes glinted. The man before him was Yukihito... his Yukihito from so long ago. His friend, his study buddy, his lover... the man who had died and still lived.

 "No greeting for an old friend?" Fujikama went on, coming closer. "You disappoint me, Yutaka."

 "It is you," Watari whispered.

 "Of course it is. Who did you expect?"

 "You're dead."

 A grin. "Sorry to disappoint you. I'm still alive. I can't say the same about you."

 Watari couldn't help but stare. It was him, ran through his head over and over again. It was Yukihito. It was him... him! How could he have survived? How could he still be so young today?

 "I've to say I didn't expect it to be you on the first attempt," Fujikama went on. "With eighteen of you running around and collecting wayward souls I had thought more of a trial and error game. As it is, you're right the one I've been wanting to see, koibito." He chuckled softly. "My lucky day."

 "You... you expected me?" Watari stuttered, caught by surprise.

 "Of course I did. You're a shinigami after all and only you guys would be coming after me. I was counting on that. Well," he shrugged and stopped in front of the blond, "time to get on with business, right? You came here for a purpose, just as I was hoping, but it's not like our business coincides. You, my dear Yutaka, are going to pay for my debts."

 Before Watari could react the other man stepped back and snapped his fingers. There was a rush of power, a brief but intense pain, and he was flung back until he was stopped in mid air. Watari heard himself gasp, felt a binding spell wrap itself around his arms and legs, and he cried out in pain as the bonds dug into his skin.

 "Too tight?" Fujikama asked, sauntering closer again. "I thought you liked those games."

 "What are you talking about? What's going on, Yukihito?" Watari yelled, ignoring the pain. "You died in that fire like I did! You're dead!"

 "No, I'm very much alive. I made a deal, Yutaka," Yukihito said, smiling coldly. "A deal for my life, my eternal life. Your soul for my immortality. Your precious, innocent soul. So warm and loving and trusting. You were a genius in the lab, a science nerd, but you never had a clue about life, right?"

 He laughed and Watari could only stare at the man he had once loved.

 "Too bad you hung onto life so badly as you did. You gave Enma-Daiou a chance to grab you, make you into an immortal as well." Cool fingers traced his jaw in a mock pretense of a lover's caress and Watari jerked his head aside. "Death becomes you, my lovely angel."

 Watari felt sick to the core. "You're mad, Yuki!"

 "No, I'm an opportunist, a realist. I didn't want to fall victim to mortality, but I also didn't want to sell my soul, so I sold yours. Easy enough. The devil was quite disappointed when Enma grabbed you, but he's a patient being."

 Yukihito circled the trapped shinigami and Watari had to turn his head to keep track of the man.

 "He's been waiting and waiting, and since he couldn't get a hold on you, we struck up a plan. I return to Japan and wait for one of you guardians to become aware of me. Baal was watching over me every single second since I set foot on japanese ground and he is watching me still. He knew you were here the second you made an appearance in Osaka. I would have taken every one of you, but as luck wants it that it is you and that blue-eyed bureaucrat you call a partner. I'm only interested in you, my dear Yutaka, in your wonderful soul. My payment for the gift I've been given. I shall live forever while you... well, your genius will perish. You have such a wonderful mind." Fujikama walked up to him, now very close. "And such a handsome body. It was so refreshing to listen to you, and it was so easy to get you working on something profitable. Or to get you into bed. You were so easy, Yutaka."

 Watari felt the blood leave his face. "You used me?"

 "I always used you, my little lamb. Did you think I would hang out with such a nerd as you were in college? That I would suffer your babble for nothing? You were my brain, Yutaka. You made everything I am today possible!"

 Fujikama reached out and cupped Watari's face. The young shinigami felt nausea rise.

 "You were very good in bed, too."

 He had loved the man! He had loved and adored him. He had been his first, and Watari had thought... had wanted...

 Gods, he had been such a fool!

 "I can see it's finally settling in," Fujikama chuckled. "Took you only how long? Thirty years? Well, Yutaka, it took me less time to build this little empire with your research, your experiments, your legacy. At first I doubted that your death had been such a good idea; you were so full of new ideas. But then... you were too innocent to work with me, to see the truth behind my ideas. You had to die."

 He leaned forward and brushed their lips together. Watari felt like throwing up. His whole body was shaking with rage and disbelief.

 Yukihito had used him. All of him.

"I'd love to renew our acquaintance, koibito," the soft voice purred in his ear, a hand slipping between his spread legs, cupping and squeezing his most private parts, "you always had an agile tongue. But unfortunately we won't have time for this."

 Terror finally kicked in, stoking the power that churned inside him, but he couldn't break the binding spell. He remained frozen inside the intricate web, spread-eagled, the pentagram pulsing behind him.

 "You don't have to wait much longer. I'll just be calling my dear demonic friend and then you two can have a chat. He's been so looking forward to your arrival, Yutaka. So very much," Fujikama breathed.

 "Take your hands off him!"

 Watari looked past his ex-lover, the man who had sold his soul to a devil, and felt relief and worry rise inside him.

 "Tatsumi!" he breathed.

 Fujikama turned, exuding coldness. "Ah, the partner has arrived. Just in time for the show."

 He raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

 "Let the games begin."

########

Tatsumi didn't know whether to be angry or worries as he had dressed hurriedly, passing the shower, and then simply transported to the Fujikama building. He knew his lover was out to get answers, was determined to end this case and find maybe his peace, though for them peace was always hard to find.

He had expected a lot of things when he had arrived, but not the nightmare he now stood right in the middle of.

His lover and partner, caught in a binding spell, spread-eagled and looking horrified and nauseous in one.

"Ah, the partner has arrived," the undead laughed. "Just in time for the show. Let the games begin!"

The attack came out of nowhere. From one second to the next the room was filled with dark crackling energy, forming itself into the ugly appearance of a very pissed off devil. It was a high level one, one of power. Larger than Tatsumi, winged, with a long, spiked tail, it looked more animalistic than humanoid.

 The Shadow Master stared at the manifestation, but before he could even think about reacting the tail whipped around, shoving him out of the way and slamming him into the next wall. Tatsumi cried out in pain when he felt ribs crack and break under the impact. He sank down, curled up on the floor, breathing hard, trying to get past the pain. He felt blood stain his fingers where the spikes had ripped into him, and each breath hurt.

Watari, Tatsumi thought, fighting not to lose consciousness. Yutaka!

 "Finally," the devil snarled. "Finally I get my payment."

Tatsumi clawed his way upright, but the devil had just waited for it. He whipped out his tail once more and Tatsumi left a deep dent in the wall. He coughed up blood, the glasses shattering on the floor, and fell to his knees.

The devil pounced, the heavy, monstrous form landing on the stricken shinigami. It laughed and it sounded like sandpaper on stone. Razor sharp talons dug into Tatsumi's shoulders, into the soft flesh, tearing muscles and tendons.

The Shadow Master screamed in pain.

"Puny creature," it whispered, the breath hot and putrid. "I wish I had time to play with you a little, but alas, there is my true meal."

With a sickening sound it withdream the knife-like claws, blood gushing from each deep puncture wound. Then it turned to the bound shinigami.

Still conscious despite the pain, more terrified than ever in his long life, Tatsumi had to watch as those talons descended onto his lover's unprotected body, aiming for the heart.

No, the thought. NO!

Gathering his powers as good as he was able to in his condition, he sent his shadows toward the devil. His power fluctuated, his body protested the use of so much Shadow Magic, but he had to protect Watari, at any cost. His healing abilities were stopped mid-mend as his shadow magic required all his energy, and the pain was mind-numbing. He knew he was losing blood from wounds that should be closed by now, from injuries that were threatening to kill him. But it was either regenerate or lose Watari.

He couldn't accept the loss.

 The shadows screeched toward the devil, Tatsumi running on instinct alone as he let them lose – only to run into a wall of blinding white light. Pure... bright... like nothing he had ever seen. Tatsumi whimpered as he turned away, the brilliance burning itself into his eyes. He more felt than saw his shadows dissipate, felt his power severe with a snap, and he moaned as it rebound into his abused system. Hearing the devil roar in fury and denial he blinked through the tears into the wavering light that was surrounding the black screeching figure.

 For a brief second Tatsumi thought he saw something within the light but before he could even blink it was gone, silence falling into the room like a blanket.

 A silence that was only broken by his harsh, pain-filled breathing. Fujikama was gone and Watari...

 "Taka!"

 Clutching his broken ribs, hands slick with blood, his clothes soaked, Tatsumi tried to get to his feet. His body protested each move, he felt the healing power tentatively continue its work, but each steps, each twitch, tore already closed tissue apart, making it all the harder. He staggered to the other end of the room where Watari was lying in a corner.  His lover had curled up in a fetal position, eyes closed, hair looking as singed as his clothes, but there was no blood.

Tatsumi fell heavily to his knees.

"Taka?" he breathed.

 Golden eyes blinked open, owlishly looking at him,

 "Seii?"

 Tatsumi touched the pale face with one shaky hand, absently noting the blood on his fingers.

 "You're bleeding," the blond murmured, catching the hand.

 "I'm fine," was the automatic answer.

 "The devil!" Watari suddenly blurted, looking around.

 "Gone. Like Fujikama. He escaped in the confusion."

 Watari sat up completely, running a careful eye over the other man. Tatsumi could tell he didn't like what he saw.

 "What happened?" he asked.

 "We were saved by an angel."

########

Watari sat on the couch of his home, leaning against his lover, almost as if seeking shelter, and he didn't care what it looked like to anyone. There was no one here who he felt ashamed in front of. Tsuzuki and Hisoka knew that Watari and Tatsumi were an item. And they had both seen them go through hell before. Watari didn't think of himself as weak for needing the reassuring, solid contact Tatsumi provided, and the Shadow Master had no problems showing his affections either.

 They had come a long way.

 "An angel," Tsuzuki murmured, intrigued. "Are you sure, Tatsumi?"

 Tatsumi nodded, caressing Watari now and then. "I know what I saw. You would have been, too, Tsuzuki. There's no mistaking it. The being that protected Watari and drove off the devil was an angel."

 "Don't angels need a body, just like devils?" Hisoka wanted to know.

 "Yes. Like demons they can't exist outside a corporeal form for very long. They seek a vessel."

 Tsuzuki looked at his friend, frowning thoughtfully, and Watari sighed.

 "It's not me," he said, sitting up a little more. "I checked. I think I'd know. Like a demon, an angel leaves a mark on the vessel's body."

 "You bear none," Tatsumi agreed.

 Watari gave him a little mischievous smile. "You should know."

 Blue eyes briefly danced with shared amusement. "Yes, I would."

 "If it isn't Watari, and I think we can exclude Tatsumi, too," Hisoka spoke up, "then what was it? And why Watari?"

 "I wish I knew," the scientist muttered.

 There was a soft hooting noise and 003 rubbed her head against his cheek in a comforting manner. He reached up and scratched her belly with one finger.

 "For an angel to protect someone, it must be serious. Guardian angels are assigned to a person as long as their service is required," Hisoka said. "I read about them in the library," he added when Tsuzuki shot him a quizzical look.

 "Who assigns them?" the older shinigami wanted to know.

 "The Lord of Heaven."

 Silence reigned and Watari felt it rest heavily on his soul. He had been assigned a guardian angel... why him? Why would he be special enough to have a guardian angel? Well, he could think of a reason or two, but they certainly didn't involve Heaven ... or did they?

 "The Lord of Heaven gave me a guardian angel," he murmured, shaking his head. "It can't be. It must be a mistake. Maybe the angel was there by accident..."
 He didn't buy his own explanation and from the looks the others didn't either.

 "Maybe there's a way to find the angel," Hisoka finally said. "I'll pay the library a visit. We can find devils, so why not angels?"

 Tsuzuki nodded and rose. Hisoka did the same and the two younger shinigami left their friends. Watari just lay against Tatsumi again, sighing softly, arms curling around the other's waist. He felt very alone and insecure all of a sudden, and the well-known warmth and protection his lover's body provided was more than welcome - a secure anchor in a world that had suddenly taken a very sharp leap to the left.

You were so easy, Yutaka ...
 
 

 Tatsumi wrapped his arms around the form of his lover and leaned back, stroking over Watari's back. He had healed quickly after he had finally let his immortal body run its course, let the healing power do what needed to be done. There was still a twinge now and then, but he would be back to normal in another day or two.

 Watari was breathing against his neck and shifting slightly, one leg gently pushing between his thighs and Tatsumi almost moaned when he felt an unmistakable hardness. Watari's hold on him tightened, his fingers sliding under his shirt and resting on his bare skin, but otherwise the scientist kept still.

 Tatsumi slowly ran his finger through the silky blond mane and pulled Watari's face toward him, gently pressing their lips together. He felt Watari sigh into the kiss and all but melt into his embrace. Tatsumi  rolled them both around carefully, deepening the kiss in the process, and Watari responded in kind.

 Tracing his fingertips lightly over Watari's skin Tatsumi slowly unbuttoned his shirt, nibbling at his lover's earlobe and working himself down his neck. The blond sighed again, arching into his body in a silent request, and Tatsumi answered it by sliding the shirt off his shoulders, placing Watari's hands above his head on the pillow. Looking down on his lover, Tatsumi felt himself fall all over again for this man. Tousled blond mane, golden eyes clouded with desire that was directed at him, breathing hard, Watari was a sight to behold. And this man was protected by an angel.

 Whoever sent it to you, Tatsumi thought as he bent down to remove the pants, or for whatever reasons – I'm going to be entirely thankful.

 Trailing down the lines of muscles on his lover's ribcage, seeing the stomach flutter when he hit an especially sensitive spot Tatsumi watched Watari close his eyes, his legs falling open. The Shadow Master smiled, pressing his lips on the knee next to him and working himself slowly north. Watari made a soft sound and spread his legs even farther, exposing himself completely. Tatsumi caressed the soft skin of his lover's inner thighs with his fingertips, nipping and kissing himself upwards until he reached the hip. Looking up he looked into a pair of golden eyes watching him and Tatsumi slid up the slender body, claiming those kissable lips again. This time Watari  did moan, arms and legs closing around his body.

"Seii," he whispered hoarsely, an Tatsumi knew what Watari needed right now.

 His own clothes followed Watari's, and he rested between his lover's thighs again, hands roaming over Watari's body, teasing every spot he knew until the other man was reduced to a whimpering puddle on the bed.

 "Seii, please..." Watari finally moaned, and this time Tatsumi didn't let him beg twice.

 Sliding into his lover's body he heard Watari taking in a deep breath, hips coming up to meet his. Watari pulled him down onto him, sobbing slightly when he hit that spot inside him with every slow and deep thrust, loving how Watari arched, loving every sound he made during their lovemaking, and knowing that, even after this time, it was him causing it.

 Under him Watari trembled and writhed and Tatsumi concentrated on giving his lover as much pleasure as possible, making him forget, at least for the time being, what had happened during the last days. And when Watari finally dug his fingers into his back, head falling back on the pillow and sucking in a lungful of air before he let it out with a harsh sobbing sound, Tatsumi allowed himself to get lost in the same pleasure, driving them both over the edge with a few last deep thrusts.

########

 It had been ridiculously easy to find Fujikama again, Tatsumi thought as he strode through the streets of Nagasaki. The man was old, had made a deal with the devil, but he wasn't all that smart when he was running. It had been a matter of following very obvious clues and in the end it had taken just a single strike to take him down. Fujikama Yukihito had been nothing but a mortal who had thought he was smarter than Enma-Daiou, who had thought he could cheat death when he was already on top of the list. He had lost that bet. Not only had the devil been chased off and was no longer protecting him,  but his own soul had now been sent straight to his Judgment.

Tatsumi stopped at a park and watched some of the young couples, the children at play, and he smiled briefly.

 It was over. At least for Fujikama. He still didn't know what they could do about the fact that a contract had been made with Watari's soul as merchandize to be traded between a human and a devil. Maybe with Fujikama now serving his life sentence in Hell, the devil would be off, too. He doubted it, though. Devils loved their contracts and this one would just lay in wait for another chance.

 Watari still had to work through the shock of it all, but he was getting better. Tatsumi sighed and resumed his way.

 This would need time. And a lot of thinking. Especially since between Fujikama and the devil a third factor had come into play as well – the angel.

########

Watari had gone to the library to read up on angels. What Hisoka had found had been interesting, but he felt it was important to get all the information there was. If he had a guardian angel, if there was some heavenly being assigned to him, he wanted to know why. And he needed to find it. He wanted to talk to the angel, ask it why him. It had to know. And it was a good task to silence a certain voice he hadn't heard for a long time.

You were very good in bed, too...

Watari took off his glasses and rubbed over his tired eyes. Feathers tickled at his fingers, and they were gently nipped at. Watari smiled at the little owl who hooted softly and he stroked over her head gently.

"Yes, maybe you're right, 003. I'm a scientist, and I have research to do." Putting back his glasses he reached for the first book.
 
 

It was an hour into the research, with Watari buried with his nose in books upon books and 003 dozing on a shelf, that a huge explosion rocked the library. Books tumbled and foundations creaked. Watari was almost thrown off his chair and there was a protesting hoot from 003 who had nearly been hit by a tumbling book.

 "What the...?"

 And then the alarms started to screech. The intruder alerts.

 There was a sudden rise in demonic aura energy and another explosion shook the building. Watari stumbled to the reading room, but he never made it that far. The door exploded inwards, off its hinges, actually tearing them out of the concrete walls. Watari was slammed into the book case behind him by the blast and quickly got to his feet, the demonic aura rising exponentially.

 There was a loud snarl.

 A fetid stench reached his senses.

 Coughing through the smoke and the dust, he looked around and met a pair of deeply red glowing eyes.

 "Shinigami," the devil growled over the din of the alarms.

 Watari's eyes shot open wide in shock and he scrambled back. A devil! The devil! The thing that had tried to kill him before!

 Baal - here!

 In Meifu!

 An energy blast raced toward him and he sprinted out of the way, the shelves around him exploding into a shower of burned paper and metal debris.

 "You are mine!" the devil screeched.

 Watari was flung forward as the creature hit him again and he felt bones crack under the impact. Pain shot through his leg, his back, and he spat blood.

 "I waited long enough," Baal whispered, towering over him, baring long fangs. "You will be a very tasty meal."

 Watari could only stare at his opponent, the pain radiating through him, and he reached for his innate shinigami power to at least give a little bit of a fight. There were no inanimate paintings or statues in the library and the books were burning. What little he could use he would, though.

 The devil's front paw slammed down on him and he cried out as he was pinned to the ground.

 "Don't even try any of your weak magic on me, shinigami. You lost. You lost a long time ago, but today I came to collect your soul."

 Breathing hard, vision swimming, Watari still gathered what he had and was just about ready to fling it at Baal when 003 shot through the burning room, screeching.

 And then there was the light again. Blinding white, brilliant, burning, absolutely pure. It engulfed the little owl, she was its center, and Watari gaped at the transformation he was suddenly a witness of. The pain was secondary to the sight of the angel appearing, of the pureness, the caressing softness, the wonder of seeing the heavenly being.

 It stretched its wings – no longer small and stubby. The fawn color turned white, the whole animal morphing into a human form.

 Still small, child-like, with large wings, long hair, and an innocent face.

 A child, Watari mused distantly, stunned. A child... a guardian angel... his guardian angel... his... owl?

 "003," he whispered, pain coming back again.

 "You're too late, angel!" Baal roared. "He's mine! Mine by contract!"

 The angel looked at him, huge blue eyes taking in the so much larger creature of darkness.

 "There's nothing you can do. You surprised me the first time, but you know he's mine!"

 White wings opened and the child-like being raised its arms a little, gathering energy.

 "You can't win!"

 Watari cried out in pain as the claws pushed down, bones creaking in his body. Bright spots burst in front of his closed eyes and he fought for air, felt one claw dig into his skin, breaking it, drawing blood.

 "Get your filthy claws off him!" a new voice yelled and there was a rush of power.

 One second Watari was trying to breathe, the next the pressure was off his chest and the devil screamed in rage. Leathery wings snapped open, fangs and claws flashed, and then it attacked its new opponent. Watari coughed and tried to sit up, the fires still burning around him, the air thick with smoke, but he felt nothing of it. He was encased in a cool whiteness, in a protective shield, and when he looked around he saw the angel stand behind him, smiling serenely.

 She was a child, he mused again. At least she looked like one. A little girl. Maybe she wasn't even female, but he thought of her as a girl. Just like he had thought of 003 as a female owl.

 003...

 ... his guardian angel.

 Her wings were forming a canopy, her hands slightly elevated, and she watched him with a warm, affectionate expression.

 The thunderous explosion not far away made Watari turn his attention to the outside and he gasped.

 The library was in ruins or close to it. Fires burned, walls were collapsing, and in the middle of the ever-bigger growing arena two combatants were going at it with no holds barred. Watari had never seen Tsuzuki use the darkness that was his heritage, that was his demonic side. He had never given it much thought. He didn't care what Tsuzuki was; the man was his friend and that was enough.

 Now he looked at the black-clad shinigami, saw the burning, violet eyes, saw the cold expression, and he could almost taste the power the man wielded, even inside the protective bubble.

 This wasn't like the fight against Sargatanas; back then Tsuzuki had called Byakko. This time it was just him. Long coat flowing around him like a living being, alive under the energy the man had at his command, he was a fearsome image. So unlike the lovable man they all knew.

 Baal attacked again and again, drawing blood, getting wounded in return, and around them the destruction grew. The library ceased to exist, turned into a crater, and Watari was safely ensconced, just watching.

 Tsuzuki jumped out of the way of a new attack, landing in a crouch, and Watari gasped softly as he felt the power gather once more, like collecting an incredible large amount of water in a tiny chalice. Tsuzuki looked up, eyes like ice, face blank. Watari tensed, ignoring the protest of pain from his body at the move. The devil rushed forward, lunging at the shinigami –

 -- and was caught in a blast of epic proportions. Like a straw puppet running into a flame thrower the creature of darkness was suddenly demolecularized, barely able to scream in pain and fury.
 
 

Silence descended, only broken by the pinging and crackling of the cooling ruins around them. The protective shield was lowered and Watari fell back against a barely burned shelf, one that had been within the barrier, holding his ribs, tasting his own blood, his head swimming.

 Power wafted around him, dark power, but he couldn't even gather the energy to flinch any more. Blurry eyes took in the black-clad figure approaching, his senses felt the dark power caress him, as if checking him, and there was a soft hooting noise all of a sudden.

 "003," he murmured, coughing.

 His body was already healing, but it would take time. Tsuzuki knelt down next to him, the expression of before gone. The cold mask of a warrior had made way for the warm, worried, wide-eyed young man everyone loved so much.

 "Yutaka? How are you?"

 Watari smiled a little. "Alive."

 Tsuzuki gave a wry chuckle. "Yeah."

 "You destroyed the library," Watari said faintly. "Again."

 "Wasn't me," the other replied. "At least I didn't start it." Suddenly those violet eyes were serious again, glancing at the little owl perched next to Watari. "It's her, right? I can still feel her somehow."

 "Yes," the blond murmured, confusion and shock still apparent in his voice, "003... my guardian angel... But why?"

 People were running toward them. There was Tatsumi all of a sudden, white as a sheet, blue eyes wide and filled with fear, a fear Watari had rarely if ever seen there before.

 "Taka!"

 Tsuzuki made room for the terrified man and was joined by Hisoka. Watari just fell into his lover's arms, closed his eyes, let Tatsumi's strength support him.

 It was over.

 But in a way, it had just begun.

########

'An angel.'

Touda's voice was flat, but his disbelief was quite palpable for Tsuzuki. The shinigami sat with his back against a tree, contemplating the sky, the cherry blossoms swaying in the gentle breeze.

'Yes, an angel. She saved Watari again.'

'And she hid in the bird.'

Again, it wasn't really a question.

'Yes. But we can't talk to her. She's still there, with Watari in the hospital ward, but she hasn't said a word.'

'Celestial beings usually don't,' the serpent muttered.

'Met many?' Tsuzuki teased.

Touda chuckled. 'In my time, no. I think Genbu did once. I understand they had a nice chat.'

'So you guys could talk to her?'

'Yes. And before you think about it, it's a bad idea to have me in Meifu, Tsuzuki, and you know it.'
Tsuzuki leaned a little against the dark presence he shared a bond with. 'I know, Touda. I'd love to have you here, but it would be better not to set everyone on high alarm.'

'Agreed'

'You think Rikugo would come?'

The black serpent laughed softly. 'Oh Tsuzuki. You're our master. You can call us whenever we are required by you.'

Tsuzuki watched the clouds. 'Yes, I know, but Rikugo has a lot on his mind and I don't want to bother him with this. I'm not calling him for a fight.'

Touda looked at him, long and hard. 'You truly are amazing,' he murmured, then added louder, 'I'll tell him to drop by ASAP, okay?'

'Thanks, Touda!'

########

It wasn't any less spectacular to have the earth shikigami arrive in Meifu, but at least he wasn't setting off any alarms like Touda would have. Or any of the four Gods. Rikugo, in his full get-up with his multi-layered robes and his flowing cape, was still a sight to behold. He might not be one of the four Gods, but he was a shikigami and he was powerful.

"Thanks for coming," Tsuzuki said and smiled widely at him.

Rikugo bowed a little, answering the smile. "It's my pleasure, Tsuzuki."

Both men walked through the Judicial building, drawing more than a casual look, and Tsuzuki headed straight for the medical wing where Watari and his guardian angel still were. They had long contemplated where to set up this 'meeting' and Tatsumi had voted for Meifu, instead of the other option, which had been bringing 003 to GensouKai.
 
 
 

 Rikugo stood in front of the little owl that was perched on the back of a chair, watching him with wide, yellow eyes. The astrologer gazed at the tiny being, then bowed lightly, one arm laid across his stomach.

 "May I talk to you?" he asked, voice soft and even.

 Tsuzuki watched his shikigami, noticed the subtle way the powerful being paid respect to what was a heavenly guardian. It was a respect among equals, a respect he paid without being forced to.

 003 blinked, then the white light was there. Not as brilliant as before, not as blinding, but it was pure and white and wonderful. Cool and warm in one, enveloping the tiny owl and transforming her into the child-like being that was Watari's guardian angel.

 Watari looked at her with wide eyes, stunned and amazed and filled with disbelief. Tatsumi was still at his side, close enough to touch, one hand resting on the small of his lover's back.

 Rikugo smiled again, hands folded within his robes.

 "I'm honored," he told the celestial being. "May I ask you a few questions?"

 The angel bowed her head in turn.

 "Why do you protect Watari Yutaka?"

 There was no audible answer, but something told Tsuzuki that Rikugo heard one. The astrologer's eyebrows climbed slowly, then the onyx eyes fixed on the shinigami in question.

 "She tells me that her assignment was voluntary. She was never ordered; she wanted to protect you. The Lord of Heaven made the request and she took it."

 "But why?" Watari asked.

 Rikugo looked at the angel, tilting his head. "She said it was her choice, nothing else. I think she doesn't know the reason." Rikugo looked at the girl. "Am I right?"

 A smile crossed her features.

 "She just... followed orders?" Tsuzuki blurted. "But.. she's been with Watari since he came here!"

 "She was told it might be a long-term assignment. She still wanted it. She chose her appearance, too."

 Watari shook his head, stunned. "No... I'm not that special!"

 "Apparently you were." Rikugo gave the young shinigami a smile, then suddenly turned back to the girl, eyebrows dipping. "But she has to leave now. Her task is over. The devil was destroyed. You no longer require her as a guardian angel."

 Watari opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut again, visibly sinking into himself in defeat.

 "I understand," he whispered. "Thank you. I... I don't even know your name." He gave a little laugh of embarrassment. "I always called you 003..."

 Rikugo smiled as he heard the answer. "She likes the name, Watari."

 "But... it was just a funny little pet name! She's a celestial being!"

 Onyx eyes met golden ones. "They don't have names like you and I, my friend. For her, this is her name."

 Watari looked at the girl, then smiled as much as he could.

 "Well, it's been fun, 003. Thank you for everything. I will miss you."

 The small angel walked over to him and he went to his knees to be at her level. Small arms suddenly curled around his neck and he instinctively hugged her back. White wings fluttered closed around them for a second, then the girl drew back, her expression sad.

 "Bye," Watari murmured, eyes swimming.

 She tilted her head, still smiling, then her form condensed into a ball of light, which turned into the familiar form of the tiny owl. She circled the room once, then headed out the window.

 Tsuzuki looked at the empty spot and felt his heart ache at the pain radiating from his best friend. Watari was keeping it together but he had just lost something very, very precious to him. 003 had been his constant companion, had been more than a simple pet.

 Now she was gone.

 Rikugo joined his master, placing a hand on one slender shoulder.

 "She won't return, right?" Tsuzuki asked softly.

 "No," was the equally soft answer. "Guardian angels work assignments, like you shinigami. When it's over they leave. She was here longer than any of her kind has ever been with a soul assigned to an angel. She was very much attached to Watari, but she has to obey the Law. We all have to."

 Tsuzuki nodded. He gave the astrologer a thankful smile. "Thanks for coming here, Rikugo. I appreciate it very much."

 "You called. How could I not obey?"

 Tsuzuki gave him a scowl, but when the taller being smiled at him, disarmed the words, he relaxed a little. Rikugo briefly caressed his cheek in a loving gesture, then drew back.

 "I will leave now if there is no other service you require," he said formally.

 "No. Thanks again."

 And Rikugo was gone. Tsuzuki watched Watari and Tatsumi, as Tatsumi drew his younger partner into his arms, holding him, soothing him, and he smiled dimly.

This would be bad for Watari. Very, very bad.

########

 Tatsumi walked through the empty corridors of the office. He hadn't seen Watari the entire day and given the events of the past days he was sure it wasn't a good sign. Especially since 003 had said her good-byes just the other day. Arriving at the lab the Shadow Master was surprised to find it empty – Watari wasn't in his usual hiding place, and that made him officially worried.
 
 

 Tatsumi found Watari half an hour later in the garden where the scientist was sitting under a large Sakura tree, arms wrapped around his knees, staring off into space. His hair fell wildly around his shoulders, unbound, unkempt, and his glasses were perched haphazardly on his nose. Tatsumi could almost feel the pain radiating off his lover and it was close to instinct to go to him.

"Taka?" he asked softly.

Golden eyes rose to look at him and Tatsumi winced at the forlorn, beaten expression in them.

"Oh, Taka," he whispered and sank down to his knees next to the younger shinigami.

"She's gone," Watari whispered.

003. Tatsumi had known from the moment the guardian angel had disappeared that his lover would have a problem with it; it was quite expected. The owl had been with Watari for all his life as a shinigami, had been his companion, his friend, his confidant. She had been everything to Watari that he had needed, even when he had found a lover and partner in Tatsumi. She had been a silent observer, had listened to him when he had felt the need to talk, better than any psychologist would have ever been. She had been his life line before he had put down roots in Meifu - and he missed her like he would miss a family member.

The Shadow Master touched one arm and rubbed gently over it, then, as Watari leaned into his caress, he pulled him into his embrace.

"She's gone," Watari whispered again. "Just like that."

Tatsumi was silent, just holding him. His fingers carded into the wavy blond lengths, stroked over the trembling back.

"She was always there for me, Seii. Always!" Tears glistened in the golden eyes. "She was there ever since I came here. From my second day on. She was just there, even when I ... I never knew..." The tears spilled over and Tatsumi tightened his hold, closing his eyes in shared pain. "She just came to me and I never knew what she was, Seii. She protected me."

Hands clenched into his shirt, fisting into the fabric and ruining it. Tatsumi didn't care if he looked like he had slept in his clothes to the others; he didn't care if anyone missed him at work; he didn't care about anything but the man in his arms. Watari needed him and his job be damned.

What you do to me, Taka, he thought briefly, smiling humorlessly.

He held his lover for a long time, listened to his sobs, his cries, his suffering words. He knew this wouldn't just pass in a day or two. 003 had been an integral part of Watari's life for thirty years. Now he knew the truth about the tiny owl, about what she was, and she would never return.

It had broken something inside Watari.

Tatsumi hoped time would heal the wound.

########

And time passed.

Watari Yutaka went to work every day, from nine to five, but he wasn't the loveable screwball everyone knew. Gone was the bright smile, the light in his eyes. There were no new experiments, no excited chatter about this or that, no budget requests, no ominous sounds or smells coming from the lab. There was only a man going to work, completing tasks, and also one single assignment which he didn't talk about with anyone. Not even Tatsumi, who had given it to him. Tatsumi knew he had completed it without much fuss, had brought the lost soul home, and had handed in his report. Typed, not scribbled. Detailed and precise.

Tatsumi's worry multiplied with every day. After a week it was reaching a first peak -- Watari had declined an invitation from his lover. Tatsumi watched the younger man leave the office after work, something inside of him yearning to take the pain from his soul.

After the second week Watari's behavior hadn't changed, but he was a bit more sociable now and then. The smiles were painful, conversation was almost agony, and Tatsumi was slowly reaching the end of his patience. It was then that he walked into the lab and found his lover staring at the computer screen, looking small and lost and so very much alone.

"Taka?" Tatsumi asked.

Golden eyes flew up, wide, almost dilated, in a pale, haggard face.

"Seii?"

It was a cry for help.

"Yutaka." And then he held him in his arms, Watari crying softly.

He embraced him, held him tightly, and pressed a little kiss on the tousled hair.

"It's okay, Taka," he murmured. "It's okay to mourn."

"She isn't dead!"

"No, she isn't. She left and you're alone."

A sob tore from the too thin body.

"But you have to go on, Taka. Let us help you. Let me help you," he whispered.

The tear-stained face looked at him and suddenly Watari lunged forward, kissing him. Tatsumi caught the desperate man and weathered the assault, holding, supporting, kissing him.

"Help me," Watari begged brokenly. "I can't go on like this. I miss her so much!"

Tatsumi sank down on the ground with him, cradling his suffering lover. "I know, Taka, I know."

########

He gazed at the sleeping man next to him, let his eyes roam over the slender form, followed the line of muscles under the deceptively smooth looking skin. Each breath was soft and deep, a sign of his sleep. Blond hair lay in a tousled mess and Watari would probably complain about it in the morning, but Tatsumi didn't care. His lover would never cut off the long strands and if he should ever be tempted, Tatsumi would try and convince him not to do it. He loved the feeling of the silky mass underneath his touch.

Watari's face was relaxed, free of the lines of pain that resided there when he was awake. Tatsumi had taken care to chase away the memories with his touches, caresses and kisses, concentrating only on the pleasure he could give the man he loved so much. Watari had truly lost himself in his pleasure and had surrendered to the Shadow Master's manipulations, crying out his release.

Tatsumi sat up and smiled at the sleeping form. Maybe sex wasn't the ultimate healing power when it came to personal loss, but at least some of those bottled up emotions had been released in the climax. He hoped Watari would let him in more, would let him help ease the pain of 003's loss, and one day Watari would be back to his old self.

########

More days passed into weeks and while Watari put up a better front, inside things were getting worse. He knew he was playing a role and he also knew that he wouldn't be able to stay in that role for much longer. Tatsumi didn't believe him anyway, but he left him his space and the time he needed, but for how much longer? It had been a month now and it wasn't getting better. They met up for the weekends, had fun, had sex, but Watari's past was more and more taking over.

Watari wrapped his fingers around his already cold coffee mug. He hadn't taken a single sip from the bitter brew, just prepared it automatically because that was what he always did at this time of day. He had had a wonderful evening with his lover, Tatsumi being more gentle than ever, and he had melted into his touch, needing it more than ever, almost craving it.

You were so easy, Yutaka.

Watari squeezed his eyes shut against the sharp sting that suddenly appeared.

You had been desperate, face it, Yutaka.

Desperate to have something that would take his mind off of things ...

I thought you liked those games.

With a desperate sob Watari flung his mug against the wall and buried his face into his hands, as his mind started to wander again, back to a time he had thought forgotten...
 
 

Watari stood hesitantly in the doorframe to his dormitory room, the room that would be his home away from home for the next years; which he would have to share with another student. He felt a little intimidated by the huge campus and the fact that almost every student was at least three years his senior. The disadvantage of being a genius, he sighed. But he would manage, get used to it. Like he had managed everything else his parents had come up with, fulfilling their every expectation. He was a good son.

"Stop staring and come in, kid," a male voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and Watari looked up to see who was talking to him - and froze.

Dancing brown eyes, sparkling with little flecks of gold, a dazzling smile directed at him... Watari couldn't help but stare at the apparition of male beauty standing in front of him.

"Kid?"

"Don't call me kid. I'm Watari Yutaka."

"Hm. So you're the whiz kid I'm gonna share a room with from now on, huh?"

A hand was stretched into his direction.

"Fujikama Yukihito. I'm a freshman like yourself, so most likely we will have the same classes."

Watari took the hand and shook it, finding himself a little overwhelmed.

"So, which one would you like?

"Huh?"

"Bed. Which one?"

Oh. Right. Bed.

"The one at the window."

"Good choice. I already took the other one. So, about those classes..."

Watari unpacked his things and listened to Yukihito asking him about his classes, answering automatically. And those brown eyes were resting on him the entire time.

Strange.
 
 
 

Watari stepped out of the shower, toweling off his damp hair when he spotted Yuki sitting at his desk, groaning.

"I'll never get this stuff into my head 'til tomorrow. How the hell do you manage that, Yutaka?"

Watari smiled and bent over Yuki's shoulder to glance at what his roommate was working on.

"Those equations? It's easy once you get the general drift. Look..."

Watari grabbed a pen and started to scribble down the solutions, explaining while he went. Looking up he glanced directly in a pair of deep brown eyes, and found his breath catching in his throat.

"Y-Yuki?"

"You really like this stuff, don't you?"

"Sure."

"And you're good at it." There was a thoughtful tone in his roommate's voice, and brown eyes roamed over his body for a second. "I think I can get it from here. Thank's, Yuta."

"Anytime, Yuki."
 
 
 

Watari stumbled back into his room, still shaking with laughter. Being with Yuki, going out into town with him was a guarantee for having fun, though the other students usually were making fun of him, and of Yuki for hanging around with him. But Yuki didn't seem to care, and Watari felt somehow grateful. It could have been some really lonely years otherwise.

Yuki closed the door behind them, chuckling.

"I've never seen Sen make such a dumb face. Kid, you drove him off real good."

Watari grinned. "Learned from the best."

Walking further into the semi-lit room he stepped onto something hard and unrelenting and stumbled with a sharp yell of surprise. Strong arms wrapped themselves around his middle before he could hit the floor, steadying him.

"Kid, be careful where you're going. Don't want to hurt something now, don't we?"

Dark brown eyes, almost black, looked at him, as Yuki had caught him, was still holding him, and Watari froze. It felt... he didn't know what it felt like but he could very well sense the heat rushing into his cheeks.

"T-Thanks, Yuki. I'm all right now," he managed to stutter. But his roommate wouldn't let go.

"Say, Yuta... have you ever - been with someone?"

"What?  Y-Yuki, I'm... no, of course not. I'm only sixteen..."

"So what? I'm nineteen."

"Yuki!"

Watari's face was burning with embarassment now.

"Did you at least kiss someone?"

Watari just shook his head, unable to voice the answer with his body still pressed flush against the other boy's.

"That can be changed."

Amber eyes widened in absolute shock when soft lips brushed over his, the hold of the strong arms around his waist tightened.  Gasping he felt an inquisitive tongue invade his mouth, waking sensations he hadn't felt before - and which were quickly starting to rush through his body, concentrating themselves in his groin. Oh gods... his roommate was kissing him. His very male roommate was kissing him! And he liked it ... very much so. Was responding ... reacting ... no! Before he could push against the other boy's chest Yukihito seemed to sense his discomfort, letting him go. Large brown eyes looked at him, reflecting some uneasiness of his own.

"Now you know my secret, Yutaka. I love men."

"Yuki ... "

A hand cupped his face gently.

"Sshh... don't worry. I won't touch you again. Not unless you ask me, that is."

Watari gaped.
 
 
 

Watari pulled the blanket closer around his nude body and shivered. Not that it was cold in his room, no. Something else was bothering his mind lately, very much so. It was a little taller than him, had a pair of dancing brown eyes and a smile that melted his heart. And a well defined body to go with it. He had felt that body pressed against his when Yuki had kissed him, and ever since that day he had been restless. His hands wandered over his skin and he bit his lower lip, trying his best to suppress the moan that threatend to escape. Damn, but the memory of that kiss alone was giving him ideas, making him all hot and bothered within seconds. And the object of his wet dreams was sleeping in the bed right on the other side of the room every night, was stepping out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around slim hips...

This time the moan did escape as he let his hands slide over his thighs. Damn!

"Yuta."

Damn!! Yuki had heard him.

"Hm?"

"Either jerk off in the shower or let me lend you a hand, but stop torturing a man, will you?"

Watari froze, feeling his heart hammer in his chest at the sleepily uttered words, the image that arose, the idea...

"Yuki?"

"What?"

He slowly lifted his blanket.
 
 
 

Watari's body jerked against the bonds holding him down, and he gasped into the gag when he felt them bite into his flesh ever so lightly. Yuki smiled at him, his lover kneeling between his wide spread thighs, fingers dancing over his skin as he pushed the hard toy deeper into his body. Watari moaned, the mixture of pleasure and pain almost too much. A part of him asked himself why the hell he had agreed to this again, why he allowed his lover to play with him this way. Simple - because he loved Yuki, and Yuki loved to tie him down every now and then, enjoyed the sight of him bound and helpless. Yuki had been his first, and ususally he was a gentle lover, bringing him to heights he had never believed possible. They had been together for four years now and Yuki had taught him everything he knew, and some things they had discovered together.

Watari glanced at his lover and hissed when Yuki pinched his nipple painfully, and dark eyes glanced back, shining with love and desire. Watari supressed a yelp of pain when Yuki pulled out the toy, roughly entering him without any further caress, and started to move with deep, hard thrusts, fingers clenched into his hair.

"God, Yuta," he moaned into his ear, increasing his speed, "I love you. You're perfect..."
 
 

...Watari pressed his hands onto his revolting stomach and stumbled into the bathroom.

You were so easy, Yutaka ...

#########

Tsuzuki wasn't blind when it came to his fellow shinigami, or his shikigami, and right now he was very much aware of Watari's deteriorating state, even though the younger shinigami was putting up a good front.

Tsuzuki was a master of fronts. He knew. He saw. And he wanted to help.

He just hadn't thought that it would be in a bar, in the evening, over a beer.

Tsuzuki and Hisoka had come for drink to their favorite place and Tsuzuki had been ready for an easy, relaxed evening. That idea was interrupted when Hisoka let his eyes wander around the room.

"Tsuzuki, look. Isn't that Watari over there?" Hisoka pointed to a corner of the bar where a man sat hunched over a glass, the long blond hair a dead giveaway.

"Huh? You're right. What is he doing here?"

Tsuzuki felt worry bloom inside him immediately again. Ever since the devil's attack and 003's disappearance the scientist had drawn away from his colleagues, but everyone had had sympathy for the other shinigami. Everyone of them had times when they wanted to be alone, even Tsuzuki. But the dark haired man also needed everybody around him to be happy, and seeing a friend and colleague that way - he just couldn't stand aside and watch. A hand on his arm stopped him, serious green eyes glanced at him.

"Don't corner him," Hisoka said quietly, and Tsuzuki smiled warmly at the other shinigami. He was glad Hisoka had understood him again.
 
 

"Hey, Watari," he greeted the blond man, slipping into the barstool right beside him. "Long day?"

"Kinda," Watari said levelly without so much as looking at him, and that alerted Tsuzuki even more. A monosyllabic Watari was a deeply disturbing sign.

"Looks good. Whatcha havin'?"

"Beer."

Untouched, Tsuzuki noticed. He ordered one for himself, and tried to start a light conversation, which didn't rouse a reaction whatsoever out of his companion. Tsuzuki sighed inwardly, when Watari took a large sip from his drink.

"Did you realize," he muttered, "how everybody always uses me?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Smart, Asato, really smart.

"I'm easy, Tsuzuki. You've seen that, too, haven't you? Always been. Wiz kid, highly talented, fulfilling daddy's and mommy's every expectation. Failure is not an option, Yutaka. Make your father proud, Yutaka."

Shock coursed through Tsuzuki at the acid tone of voice. He had never seen Watari that sarcastic.

"I've graduated from the university when I was nineteen, did you know that, Tsuzuki? Of course you didn't. And I started to spread my legs for that bastard when I was sixteen. Because I loved him, yeah, right. "

"Watari..." Tsuzuki started, but the other man didn't even see him.

"He never beat me, that I  have to give him. He just liked it - experimental?"

Tsuzuki swallowed hard at the image this implied.

"But he wasn't satisfied with using my body, Tsuzuki, he had to use my ideas, my research, even my soul. He used me, and when he had made the best of me he threw me away. And do you know the best, Tsuzuki? I asked for it. Every goddamn time I *asked* for it."

"Yutaka, you don't... "

"And even after I'd died I asked for it. That's why I'm easy, Asato. That's what I am, what I always will be."

"But Tatsumi never ... "

There was a snorting sound and for the first time Watari looked Tsuzuki directly into the eyes. The man was stone cold sober.

"He will, Asato. One day he will," Watari said, and there was a deep sadness and resignation in his voice that made Tsuzuki shudder with fear for his friend.

The scientist slipped from his chair and disappeared into the crowd before Tsuzuki could recover from his shock.

"Tsuzuki?"

Hisoka appeared at his side, expression worried. Most likely the empath had picked up his emotions - he must have radiated them for Hisoka to read through the entire establishment.

"He's not doing good, Hisoka. Far from it."

Serious, green eyes regarded him silently, then Hisoka nodded. "What can we do?"

Tsuzuki's expression was thoughtful. "Not much, actually. Be his friends, I suppose. Wait for Yutaka to need us. Right now... we can only keep an eye on him."

########

Tsuzuki kept a close eye on his friend, but Watari didn't relapse into the stranger he had met in the bar. He was slowly but surely turning back into the person he knew. But there was an addition to him now, a strange undertone, that Tsuzuki didn't like. He wished 003 was still here because the little owl had always been the first confidant. Watari mourned her and Tsuzuki understood that only too well. Should he ever lose one of his shikigami... it would devastate him. 003 had been as close to Watari as... as Touda was to Tsuzuki now. Losing Touda...

He pushed that thought aside.

There was a little shift and Touda's presence in the back of his mind grew.
'Won't get rid of me that easily,' the fire shikigami rumbled.
Tsuzuki chuckled slightly. 'I know. Glad of it, too.'
Touda brushed over him, a gentle hug, then left again.
The shinigami felt strangely better after the brief contact and smiled. He just wished there was a way to make Watari feel like it, too.

########

Three weeks had passed and the healing had begun. Slow, step by step, and with a lot of help from his friends. Watari smiled a little to himself as he sat under the Sakura tree, a book in his lap, enjoying the warm day. The lab had seemed too stuff to stay any longer and he had excused himself for the lunch break to spend it here. Tatsumi had offered to come with him, a warm expression in his blue eyes, but Watari had declined.

His lover had been there for him in the last days, had held him when the emotions had overcome him again, had chased the shadows away, had listened to him as he talked, and he had never told him he was being silly over a little owl. Watari hadn't told Tatsumi about what else had been plaguing him – the memories of Fujikama, of times long past, of times when a young and naïve science geek had been used by his older roommate... Watari felt ashamed of himself, of those memories, but he couldn't deny that back then he had truly loved Yuki.

He had.

Really.

Honestly.

And Yuki had sold his soul.

So Watari buried those memories again, pushed them into the darkest corners of his agile mind, and turned to something safer – mourning his little owl.

003 had been so much more than a pet for him. She had been his first friend in Meifu, had gone with him through thick and thin, and Watari knew that he would always treasure those three decades, no matter how long he still lived. She had been into his mischief, his experiments, had been with him on cases, had listened to his excited talks, the techno babble, and to his musings about one Tatsumi Seiichiro. 003 had helped them establish their relationship, too. She had always been there.

Always.

A knot formed in his throat and he swallowed.

Get a grip on yourself, Watari! he thought angrily. Face it, she's gone. She was a guardian angel and she did her job. Thirty years as a volunteer. She protected your ass and she's off to the next assignment! You know how those works, shinigami!

It helped a little, but the heavy feeling stayed.

He had never been this screwed up throughout an assignment and his cases hadn't been light either. It was never easy to bring a soul in, a soul that believed it was still alive. It always hurt to kill someone, even if he was already dead. Loss was everywhere he went because he was an angel of death.

Watari sighed and tried to bring his morose thoughts back from the darkness that always threatened to consume him.

Was this what Tsuzuki had felt?

No, probably not. It had been worse for the other shinigami. A lot worse. And he had survived.

Take his example, Yutaka, Watari thought firmly. Tsuzuki had gone through so much more...

I can do it.

There was a soft rustling noise in the branches above and he automatically looked up up. Something moved in the old tree, there was a sound like tiny branches breaking, and with a hoot of surprise and a flutter of wings a small, fluffy ball of feathers crashed into his book.

Watari froze, eyes wide, mouth agape.

The fluffy ball shuffled on the white pages, rearranging tail feathers, wings and feet, then a pair of huge yellow eyes looked into equally huge golden ones.

"No," Watari breathed.

Impossible. This had to be a dream. Or a bad joke.

Dream, he decided. He had fallen asleep and was dreaming of his first encounter with his little pet owl.

The tiny apparition hooted, hopping up and down excitedly.

"003...?"

Another hoot and she clicked her beak.

Watari reached out with one trembling finger and stroked over the soft feathers. The owl made appreciative noise of content. The blond scientist started to smile.

Enjoy the dream, Yutaka. When you wake up reality will come get you.

003 nipped at his finger and hopped onto his hand, fitting into his palm as snugly as she had always done.

She hooted softly, looking at him expectantly. When Watari didn't react any more than to keep on petting her, 003 bit his fingers.

He yelped as pain shot from the abused finger tip, and golden eyes stared at the animal.

"003..." he gasped.

The bite had hurt... he had felt it and not woken from his dream.

So it wasn't...

He wasn't...

He wasn't dreaming!

She was back!

"You... you're back?"

--Hoot--

"And you're... you?"

A pair of yellow eyes looked at him with an expression that said it all. Who else had he expected?

Watari felt tears shoot into his eyes and he hugged the little fluff back to his chest, drawing a surprised owl squeak.

"You're back," he whispered again and again. "You're really back!"

003 nuzzled his cheek and hooted softly.

#########

It was the second time in a month that Rikugo made an appearance in Meifu and again heads turned as the tall, slender figure walked past the employees of Enma-Daiou, following his friend and master to the lab where he was already expected. It had been a matter of good manners not to enter Meifu within the walls of the Judicial building. Tsuzuki had asked Touda again to relay his wish to Rikugo, and the astrologer had followed the indirect order. He was simply intrigued by the fact that the angel had come back to Watari.

Angels were celestial beings, like shikigami were magical, and like their counterpart's, the shinigami, an assignment ended and they went on. Neither went back to a prior case to visit. Not even when the assignment had lasted this long.

They were already expected and Rikugo's eyes were drawn to the tiny owl perched so easily on Watari's shoulder. She looked at him, tilting her head a little.
Rikugo bowed his head in respect. "May I talk to you?"

003 hooted and the blond head snapped up, onyx eyes widening in surprise.

"Rikugo?" Tsuzuki asked carefully.

The astrologer stared at the owl in shock.

"She... she said she's no longer an angel and therefore can't talk to me as before."

"What?!" Watari exclaimed.

Rikugo listened to the explanation, unable to truly comprehend why. Finally he nodded and turned to the blond shinigami.

"003 has voluntarily given up her status as an angel to return here, Watari," he told the shocked man. "She wants to be with you, not be assigned to a new person as a guardian, because she believes her place is with you."

"Enma's name, no!" Watari blurted. "She can't!" He reached for the little bird on his shoulder and cradled her in the palms of his hands. "You can't, 003! You're a guardian angel and other people need you!"

"You need her more."

"No! I mean, I miss you, but you... there are humans who need you in the world of the living!"

003 clicked her beak and hooted again.

"Like I said, she gave up her status as an angel. Permanently."

Rikugo gazed at the tiny animal in fascination. He hadn't known angels could do that. They could ascend, just like shinigami, but for one to voluntarily give up all that and become...

"Oh my," he murmured.

"What is it, Rikugo?" Tsuzuki wanted to know.

"Watari, you command no guardian spirits, do you?" the shikigami asked.

"Uh, no," was the confused answer.

"You do now. 003 has become one of us. She is a shikigami."

Watari had to sit down and Tatsumi stepped up to his lover, resting a supportive hand on his shoulder. The shinigami was still cradling the owl, which hooted excitedly.

"It was the only way she was allowed to come back, to be here where she wants to be. Her wish was granted and she is now a shikigami. Curious." The astrologer tilted his head, fascinated. "I didn't know an angel could be changed into one of us. May I?" he asked of the owl.

003 hooted her agreement and the shikigami opened his other eyes.

He heard a soft indrawn breath, aware that few were immediately comfortable with his different appearance, but he only looked at the little owl. Finally he closed the eyes again and inclined his head in a thank you.

"She is a true shikigami," he told the others. "There is nothing of the angel left. I doubt she can take a human form like we can, but she might in GensouKai."

Watari had paled considerably. "She can't give up everything because of me!"

"She already has."

"No!"

003 fluttered onto his shoulder and nuzzled him, her beak clicking.

"She will stay with you as long as you want her," Rikugo translated, smiling.

003 was radating the loving aura of a mastered shikigami. She had never been challenged, hadn't even been born like them, but she had chosen this path and would remain with her 'master' as long as he would have her. Looking at the shell-shocked young man, Rikugo knew that nothing could make Watari give up his long-time companion.

"Do you want her?" he asked out loud, forcing Watari's hand.

"Yes!" was the immediate answer. "But the price..."

"Has been paid in full already. She has made a deal and you should honor it, Watari Yutaka."

Eyes bright with emotions, the shinigami took his owl into his hands, sniffling a little. "Oh, 003... You shouldn't have. I'm happy you're back, but to give up everything for me..."

"She loves him," Tsuzuki whispered and Rikugo heard the warmth, smiling at his master.

"Unconditionally," he agreed. "She volunteered for this assignment without knowing who her charge was, but she grew fond of him, learned to love him, and finally she couldn't let him go. As a shikigami I know what she feels."

Onyx met amethyst and Tsuzuki swallowed, looking a bit embarrassed.

003 nuzzled Watari, then hopped over to Tatsumi, pulling at his hair as she sat on his head, looking happy, pleased... at home. The Shadow Master chuckled and plucked the new shikigami out of his hair. He pulled Watari close, brushing a kiss over the still very pale face, then he placed 003 on Watari's shoulder where she belonged.

Tsuzuki and Rikugo quietly left them alone and walked out of the building. Tsuzuki looked thoughtfully at the blooming trees.

"Tsuzuki?" Rikugo asked after a while.

"Just thinking. It's good to have her back. Watari was really missing her."

"She missed him, too."

And he could relate to the feeling. Thinking of the theoretical situation that he would be separated forever from his master made Rikugo ache. A bond between a shikigami and his master had only two ends: the master's death or the shikigami's decision to tear away from a weakening master. Rikugo would do everything to protect this young man at his side, he would never attack him, and the other eleven felt the same. He understood Watari's pain and he understood 003's decision to come back, even if it had meant sacrificing her celestial existence. She was now a guardian spirit and a member of GensouKai. She would probably never see her new 'home', but she belonged there and was one of them.

########

Shadow Master Tatsumi stretched his aching back and glanced at the clock on his desk, blinking when he realized it was almost past office hours - and he hadn't seen neither hide nor hair from his lover the entire day. Thinking of it - ever since 003 had returned a week ago Watari had been a little laid back, silent. He had thought that after the reappearance of the little owl Watari would return back to his old cheerful self, but something seemed to be on his lover's mind still, and it worried the Shadow Master. Tatsumi shut down his computer and left his office, heading toward the direction of the lab with every intent to drag his lover out of there.

It was empty.

Oh no, Tatsumi thought, remembering only too well how he had found Watari the last time.

Just when he was about to leave a large red envelope with his name on it caught his eye. Frowning Tatsumi picked up the envelope, reading the card that it contained and frowned even deeper. After a short glance at his watch the Shadow Master decided to do what he rarely did - teleport home.
 
 

Exactly two hours later an elegantly dressed man with intense blue eyes stepped out into the streets of New York, looking aroud as if he were searching for somebody. He raised one eyebrow as a black carriage stopped in front of him, the driver greeting him.

"Mr. Tatsumi?"

"Yes?"

"If you'd get in, sir, I'll get you to your destination."

"Thank you."

The ride through the evening streets of New York was rather peaceful, though Tatsumi wished he'd had his lover at his side. It didn't take too long before the carriage stopped at a large hotel and its name alone made Tatsumi's bookkeeper heart ache.

"This is your destination, sir," the driver said.

Tatsumi thanked the man and wanted to get out, but the door was already pulled open by the uniformed man who was standing guard at the hotel's entrance. Tatsumi nodded his thanks, entering the large lobby.

It was a dream of mahogany, expensive carpeting, marble and glass. Uniformed employees moved purposefully through the reception hall, showed guests to the elevators, carried luggage and helped out those who wanted some touristy ride, a cab or a limousine.

"Mr. Tatsumi, sir?"

"Yes?"

Tatsumi turned and came face to face with a man in his mid-forties in a clean-cut black suit with a matching, maroon tie and a whit eshirt. His dark blond hair was combed back and the smooth face suntanned. Blue eyes smiled at him.

"I'm Roger Thomas, the manager. Welcome to the Regency, sir. Your baggage has already arrived. This is Henry, our lift boy. He will accompany you to your destination. Henry, the penthouse."

Tatsumi felt overwhelmed as he thanked Thomas. He did his best to suppress his surprise at all of this, just went with the flow, but he would certainly have a word or two with a certain shinigami about wasting money.

Henry was a young man, maybe early twenties, with a ready grin and bright brown eyes. Like all employees he was uniformed. Henry showed him to the elevator and accompanied him to the penthouse, which could only be reached by inserting a key in a lock inside the elevator car.

Very exclusive.

Very... expensive.

Tatsumi pushed away that thought. The book keeper was off work.

But damn if this didn't cost Watari a fortune!
 
 
 

Tatsumi closed the door of the penthouse behind him and only then took the time to look around, take in his surroundings. The suite was large, to say the least, almost as big as his entire apartment combined with Watari's. There was a couch three times as big as his own, a bar at the far end of the room, a desk with an integrated computer screen. The entire suite spoke of taste and wealth.  What the hell was his lover thinking?! Speaking of which - where was Watari?

"Yutaka?"

No response.

Stepping further into the room Tatsumi caught a flash of movement - curtains shifted by a soft evening breeze, due to the wide open balcony doors.

Tatsumi went out onto the balcony, following the faint sound of - violin music? Blinking, the Shadow Master recognized the sound of his favorite violin concert, and he followed it around the corner - who had ever heard of hotel balconies so large they had corners - and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him.

"Seii."

There, bathed in the soft lumiscence of the setting sun, stood his lover. Dressed in black pants and jacket over an anthracite silk shirt, the stubborn strands of long golden hair tied back in a pony tail, only a few strands, still refusing to obey, were moving slightly with the breeze. The balcony was lit by what appeared to be hundreds of candles, creating an unearthly - and quite intimate - atmosphere. It was breathtaking. Golden eyes were looking at him with an unreadable expression, as Watari handed him a glass of Champagne.

"Taka, what ... ?"

"Shh ... " Soft lips brushed over his as Watari claimed his lips gently, and he could taste a faint trace of Champagne.

"Starting without me?"

"Just a little. I'm glad you came, Seii. Let's eat."

It was then Tatsumi noticed the elegantly laid out table in the middle of the balcony, the fine china, the sparkling cystal ...

"Taka, what's this all about? You don't have that much money to waste ... "

"I don't want to talk about money right now, Seii. Please, take a seat. The soup is getting cold."

"Tak..."

Watari sealed his lips with another kiss, gently pushing him into the chair.

"Please, Seii. I want to do this. I've been thinking about this for quite some time now, and I want you to enjoy the evening."

And Tatsumi couldn't do anything but obey.
 
 

Eyeing his dessert cautiously Tatsumi hesitantly took his spoon. It had been a delicious menue, starting with a light clear ox tail soup, followed by snails in herbal butter, steamed salmon and vegetables with an excellent Chardonnay, Coq au vin accompanied by a tasty Pommard, and was now ending with a light Crème brulée and Amontillado Sherry.

"You're looking suspicious, Seii. What's wrong? The dessert won't jump you."

"No." He put his spoon aside, regarding his lover. "Taka, this is a wonderful evening, and I enjoy it very much, but I'd enjoy it even more if I'd know what this is all about. You're not going to ask for my hand in marriage, are you? Because my father's long time gone now."

Watari laughed, but the sound made something inside Tatsumi shiver with suspicion.

"Yutaka ... "

"All right." Watari was serious all of a sudden, looking at him with huge golden eyes, the lights of the candles bathing him in a soft light and making the golden depths sparkle. Tatsumi was ready to eat him.

"I love you, Tatsumi Seiichirou. Happy anniversary."

Anniversary?

"Anniversary?"

Watari smirked mischiviously.

"Don't tell me you of all people forgot? One year today, Seii. I'd never have believed you'd stand me for a month, let alone ... one year. And after everyting that happened during this time, you've been with me through the proverbial good and bad times ... no, I don't ask you to marry me, Seii, but ... how about the honey moon? This suite is ours until Sunday night."

"Taka ... I don't know what to say."

"How about 'yes'?"

"Yes."

Tatsumi stood, and Watari almost flew into his arms, lips meeting his halfway.

"I love you, Watari Yutaka. Never forget that, will you? Now, about this honeymoon idea of yours..."

The cool night breeze extinguished the last candle while a little fluffy owl the size of a tennis ball landed on one of the chairs, turned its head toward the still open balcony doors and clicked its beak in satisfaction at the soft sighs, gasps and exclamations of two people making passionate love.