Twice Shy

Comments: I started this around June 1, 2004. I feel disappointed, like I\'m going nowhere with this, so I thought I might as well post it up and ask for help. Granted, I have a rough direction in mind (glances at working title). Hijiri and demons don\'t mesh, do they? Suggestions, pointers, critique much appreciated. I want to see how this pairing could turn out. Thanks.

Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei belongs to mangaka Yoko Matsushita. This piece of writing belongs to me. And to borrow the words of the main werepup of the show, \"Ah \'ave no munny!!\" - not from this at least.

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Dr. Kazutaka Muraki scanned his new patient\'s file with his good left eye, ignoring a growing itch in his glass one. He had a few minutes to review the facts before actually meeting his next patient, the famous Hijiri Minase, who was currently the third-time winner of the International Violin Concours. He was also, apparently, the darling of all the nurses at Nagasaki University Hospital - after the good doctor himself, they felt the need to assure.

The section in Hijiri\'s papers that caught Muraki\'s attention described a transplant operation. According to his colleague\'s notes, there had been much cause for concern when a small wound was detected on the donor\'s cornea, but a suitable match was hard to come by. Nonetheless, Hijiri agreed to take the risk and subsequently suffered a few nights of unexplained bleeding from his left eye.

Muraki held up the cornea diagram and studied it closely. Against the light from the open blinds, he made out series of finally-incised glyphs that kissed the lips of the ragged circle in an intriguingly familiar pattern. To the untrained eye, the cuts could have been made by a surgeon’s scalpel. But the doctor was a clever man, and a master in diverse fields of study.

He was particularly adept with Demon cryptography.

\"The bearer of this contract, Tatsuya Otonashi,\" he paused as he translated the donor’s name, \"in order to achieve the status of violinist must give in exchange Kazusa.\"

Putting down the diagram, Muraki reread Hijiri’s papers for more on the mysterious Kazusa. So immersed in his inspection was he that he was shaken when he spied an entering brunet, who bore a startling resemblance to another boy he met long ago.

Four years before, with the full red moon as witness, Muraki met Hisoka Kurosaki. The unfortunate boy saw him stab a simple maid, whose death was otherwise of no consequence to either of them. When Hisoka ran, Muraki gave chase but had not the heart then to kill the doll-like beauty. Poor Hisoka was merely at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Beside a cooling corpse, in the back garden that was part of the boy’s ancestral home, the man, almost thirty, took the thirteen year old every which way on a bed of Sakura blossoms. His was not only the crime of lust.

The next morning, the boy woke up in his own bed, his doctor telling him he had collapsed due to an unknown illness. In truth, Muraki designed a spell upon Hisoka’s flesh that faithful night, sealed in his own virginal blood to take away memories he did not wish to have. Three long years later, the sorcery robbed Hisoka of his life. Now, Muraki wondered if he should have waited longer.

Hijiri was eighteen and exquisite. He had sable black hair, and green eyes like his blonde doppelganger, although Muraki was pleased to note that those rare gems were brighter than, and not as jaded as Hisoka’s.

Briefly, he wondered if the boy was still untouched.

While the doctor could not help but gape, Hijiri caught the look of recognition and identified it as such. A stranger\'s stare did not seem to bother him, since his face had been advertised in a number of cultural circles for the last year. If his dilating pupils presented any indication, Hijiri had no problem returning the favor as he approached the doctor\'s desk.

\"Good morning, Dr. Muraki.\" The boy took note of his opened medical report and saw no need to introduce himself. \"I\'ve heard quite a bit about you from the other doctors and nurses.\" The smile he gave the doctor was something akin to nostalgia although he was sure he never met the man before.

\"And I you, Mr. Minase. Good morning.\" The doctor returned his smile serenely, the picture of an immaculate angel in white with silver hair and eyes the color of lightning-laced storm clouds.

\"Please,\" he gestured to the chair opposite, which Hijiri promptly occupied. \"What can I do for you?\"

\"I... Nothing medical, really.\"

Muraki tilted his head slightly. \"Just a check-up then? And how may I be of assistance?\"

Hope, doubt and curiosity warred openly upon the boy’s face as he spoke. \"I wanted a word with you when I heard that... you used to work for the Kurosaki family.\"

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Edit: See why I posted the \'help wanted\' bit? Not sure where to go with this. -_-;