The only sound echoing within the small, utilitarian office was the sound of computer keys clattering away.  A comfortable silence had filled the small space, a silence that was broken by Watari Yutaka’s cheerful announcement.

 

“You’re brooding!”

 

The blonde Shinigami didn’t bother looking up from the computer screen as he made his statement.  This prompted Enma-Cho Secretary, Tatsumi Seiichirou to glance up from the file laid open in his hands.  Lifting an elegant eyebrow in an expression of disbelief, Tatsumi calmly addressed his companion.

 

“Have you acquired eyes in the back of your head Watari-san?  An experiment gone wrong, which you haven’t told me about, in excruciating detail?”

 

Unfazed by his boss’s dry, quelling tone Watari continued to work on Tatsumi’s stubborn computer.

 

“You know, if you would just break down and requisition new computers this wouldn’t keep happening.”

 

“If you and Tsuzuki-san would stop attempting to one up each other in the category of who can inflict the most structural damage on the building, perhaps we might have the budget for it.  However, between Tsuzuki-san and Kurosaki-kun’s expense reports and your laboratory failures…”

 

“Scientific setbacks.”  Watari seamlessly interrupted, stabbing an index finger towards the ceiling for emphasis without missing a stroke on the keyboard.

 

“Spectacular, laboratory ‘failures’.”  Tatsumi calmly emphasized the last word without raising his rich, cultured voice.  “Between their monthly meal expenses and your experiments, we are constantly operating in the red.”

 

There was a pause in the typing as preternaturally bright amber eyes darted across the computer monitor, translating the string of programming script that flashed along the screen.  Slender eyebrows darted towards Watari’s mussed hairline but then he grinned maniacally at the screen and re-attacked the keyboard.

 

“You have to expect these things, Tatsumi.  After all, the boy is still growing!”

 

Tatsumi issued an elegant snort and shot a wry glance over the top rim of his glasses in the scientist’s direction.

 

“Kurosaki-kun accounts for perhaps a quarter of the expenses.”

 

Watari’s fingers paused on the keys and he flashed Tatsumi a mischievous grin.

 

“Who said I was talking about Hisoka?”

 

For a beat, laughing amber eyes caught and held annoyed blue then Tatsumi shut the file folder he held in his hand with a snap.

 

“Have you fixed my computer yet, Watari-san?” Tatsumi’s voice was laced with icy reserve; the type of tone designed to bring even Tsuzuki to heel.

 

It hardly fazed the eccentric scientist who simply beamed at his boss and spun back to the computer.  His long, rich blonde hair was caught up in a haphazard ponytail and it swung heavily across his shoulder, landing against his chest with a dull thump. 

 

“Almost!  I think the problem is you click too fast.”

 

“I…’click’ too fast?”  Tatsumi pushed away from the file cabinet he’d been resting against and crossed to stand just behind Watari’s shoulder, watching the flow of computer script dance across the screen at an alarming rate.

 

“Yes, you open and close files too fast.  It caused the system to bog down and then crash.”

 

“Amazing.”  Tatsumi began dryly. “I don’t ever remember my computer having a problem before you installed that wonderful ‘upgrade’ of yours.”

 

Striking the enter key, Watari spun around in the chair and beamed up at Tatsumi.

 

“It is wonderful isn’t it?  Links everything together, sorts and cross references case files old and new, ties back to the Book itself and…”

 

“Crashes, regularly.”  Tatsumi finished.

 

Watari merely flicked his fingers in a dismissive manner, acting as if he didn’t even hear Tatsumi as he turned the chair and bounded to his feet.  With apparent heedlessness he careened into Tatsumi’s space, forcing the taller man to take a step back. 

 

“You don’t need to thank me again Tatsumi-san, I know how much you appreciate my work around here.”

 

Reaching up to reset his glasses on his face, Tatsumi used his hand to cover the affectionately exasperated twitch of his lips.   It never failed to amaze him that Watari could be as irrepressible as Tsuzuki.  At least Tsuzuki could be tempered with a carefully applied promise of food, or better yet dessert.  Enma-cho’s resident mad scientist didn’t appear to have any such controlling factor.  In fact, over the twenty-six years Tatsumi had known the hyperactive blonde, he had yet to discover any surefire method of quelling Watari’s boundless enthusiasm.

 

Features once again arranged in a stern frown, Tatsumi lowered his hand and fixed his intense blue eyes on his fellow Shinigami.  Watari had alighted on one of the rickety metal chairs that sat on the other side of Tatsumi’s neatly organized, but overflowing desk.   Seeing that Watari was showing no signs of leaving, Tatsumi raised an imperious eyebrow.

 

“Is there something further, Watari-san?”

 

Watari graced Tatsumi with a sunny smile. “Brooding.  You.  Why?”

 

This time, Tatsumi had no trouble holding his frown in place.  Behind him, a shadow thrown by the desk light snapped in an unnatural manner across the wall, then settled.

 

“I am not…”

 

“Yes, you are.”  Watari quickly interjected.  “It’s about that fax you got this morning.  Is it about Hisoka, or Tsuzuki?”

 

Watari was sitting back in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest tugging the folds of the lab coat around his torso.  A chill had run through the office when he pressed Tatsumi and while Watari refused to be cowed by the unconscious manifestation of the Kagetsukai’s power, he was keenly aware of its potential.

 

Handling Tatsumi Seiichirou was rather like playing in the ocean surf.  You were always aware of the potential power; could feel it, controlled and almost predictable against your skin.  But it only took an unseen storm, far out to sea, to turn the current deadly.  You never turned your back on the ocean and though Watari Yutaka appeared to play carelessly against the Kagetsukai’s emotional currant, he never ignored the effects some unseen emotional storm could have on the older Guardian’s temper.

 

Silence once again fell in the small office as the two Shinigami faced each other down.  It was an unconscious battle of wills and one that Watari came out on top of.  This time.

 

Tossing the file down on the desk, Tatsumi unbuttoned his suit coat as he sat down.  He leaned back with casual negligence in the leather desk chair and steepled his fingers together in front of his face, studying the scientist over the top of his neatly trimmed nails.

 

“There has been a sharp rise in the deaths of young people at Kazucota Hospital.  We have been asked to investigate the matter.”

 

“Kazucota… why does that name sound familiar.”  Watari’s slender eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful expression as he tried to place the name.

 

“Kazucota was the hospital that Hisoka died in.”

 

“Oh… well that would be why it sounds familiar then.”  Watari tugged on the lapels of his coat, shifting on the uncomfortable chair.  “It is a hospital Tatsumi-san.  Peoples’ lives both begin, and end there.”  The blonde Shinigami pointed out in a reasonable tone.

 

“Yes, but this seems to only be effecting people who still had strong flames on their candles.  They should not have been extinguished at this juncture in their lives.”

 

“Supernatural intervention suspected?”

 

“Unnatural at the very least.”  Tatsumi lowered one hand, lightly drumming the file folder with his fingers.

 

Watari tilted his head to the side, studying Tatsumi’s face, reading the minute shifts of expression that clued him into his boss’s thoughts.

 

“Are… are you going to give this case to Hisoka and Tsuzuki?  It is their district after all.”  Watari figured he already knew the answer to his question.

 

“I… I do not believe that would be wise.”

 

“Really?”  Watari asked in a knowing tone.

 

Tatsumi’s eyes snapped up, sparking an amazingly intense blue.

 

“There is another case that is better suited for their talents within their block.  This is a simple investigation.”

 

“A simple investigation which just happens to involve the hospital Hisoka spent his last pain-filled years in?”  Watari pushed along with apparent blindness to the unnatural stillness which had fallen over Tatsumi.

 

“Watari.” Tatsumi’s voice was calm, too calm.

 

Holding his ground in the face of Tatsumi’s icy demeanor, Watari shifted in the chair, reaching his hands back over his head as he linked his fingers together.  He waited in silence for Tatsumi to continue.

 

Frowning darkly at his blonde-haired companion, Tatsumi lowered his other hand, stroking his fingers across his tie.  He’d learned over the years that when Watari dug his heels in, the man could be more stubborn than Tsuzuki.  He’d also learned that like Tsuzuki, your best bet was to deal with Watari’s concerns directly rather then turn your back and have the matter come up at a later date from out of left field.

 

“This truly is a simple investigation into unnatural deaths.”

 

“But?”  Watari prompted.

 

Tatsumi’s hand stilled on his stylish tie and his eyes took on a far away look as he stared at a spot beyond Watari’s head.

 

“There is… Mmm… that is to say it’s a Gray Knight designation, Watari.”

 

Watari’s eyebrows arched upwards and he whistled softly.   A Gray Knight was the label given to a case when it had extenuating circumstances.  It was a warning to the Guardians assigned to the case file that all was not as it appeared and that there might not be one right answer.

 

Gray Knights were inevitably messy, fraught with emotional landmines for the Shinigami who worked them.  Often the detectives were called upon to make tough moral judgments and Watari couldn’t think of any Shinigami who didn’t carry the emotional scarring that a Gray Knight case could leave.  Scarring that would last the rest of the Guardian’s immortal life.

 

Lowering his arms, Watari sat forward, pinning Tatsumi with the full force of his focus.

 

“You’re going to investigate this yourself aren’t you?”  The question was dangerously close to being a statement.

 

Tatsumi sighed lightly and reached up, nudging his glasses more out of habit than necessity.

 

Watari read the unspoken answer within the motion.  Tatsumi had broken an important barrier when he’d worked the case involving Hisoka’s family.  The Kagetsukai had a weakness when it came to people he let close to him.  Tatsumi would go to any length to protect those he cared about, and Watari did not need Hisoka’s empathic ability to know that the older Shinigami was loath to give a Gray Knight to the still healing Tsuzuki. 

 

Regardless of how much pain being back in the field could potentially cause Tatsumi himself, the Secretary of Enma-cho would go to great lengths to shield Tsuzuki and Hisoka.

 

But, my stubborn friend, Watari thought to himself.  You will not take up this burden alone.  I won’t let you.

 

“Well then, when do we leave?”  Watari's tone was matter of fact as he caught and held Tatsumi's gaze.

 

“We?”

 

“Well, of course we.  We work in pairs Tatsumi.  Remember?  Pairs means ’two’ in case you’ve forgotten.  GuShoShin and his brother are tied up with annual inventory and I know you wouldn’t want to pull one of them off the project so that leaves me!”

 

Tatsumi frowned. “Watari-san…”

 

“I don’t have anything particular going on in the lab and the Sixth has been it’s usual quiet self.  Besides, you and I have worked together in the past.”  Watari let his words hang between them for a moment before he grinned widely at Tatsumi. “I’m your only logical choice.”

 

Tatsumi’s fingers reached for his glasses once again as he searched for a way out of Watari’s logic.  However, as hyperactive and absent minded as the scientist could appear, he had an innate ability to be painfully logical when he wanted to be and Tatsumi’s analytical mind quickly recognized the futility of arguing the point further.

 

“Very well.  We will leave in the morning.”

 

“Excellent!”  Watari exclaimed as he bounded out of the chair.  His abrupt action nearly knocked the pathetic piece of furniture over as he spun towards the door, hair and lab coat fanning out behind him, animated by the man’s inexhaustible energy.

 

All his banners flying.  Tatsumi thought fondly to himself as the door crashed shut behind Watari. Where the hell he gets all that energy…if I could bottle it, I’d make a mint.

 

Alone in the sanctuary of his office, Tatsumi leaned back in the chair and reached up to draw his glasses off his face, rubbing his thumb and index finger across his closed eyelids.

 

You would think a Guardian of Death could escape headaches.

 

The dark-haired secretary winced as a spike of discomfort danced between his temples.  For a brief moment he courted with the idea of calling Watari back to get a painkiller but Tatsumi couldn’t bring himself to face Watari’s knowing eyes again.  The blonde laboratory menace could be too astute for Tatsumi’s peace of mind.  Also of more concern lately was the sense of longing Tatsumi felt to share his concerns and troubles with the scientist.

 

Tatsumi had survived as a Shinigami for a hundred years as a self-contained island of a man, but recently he’d begun to feel the need for companionship.  A need he hadn’t felt since the disastrous attempt to partner with Tsuzuki.  There had been a relationship doomed from the start.  Despite their surface differences, Tatsumi was now forced to realize that he and Tsuzuki were too much alike to have done each other any good.  They would have wallowed in their combined guilt and beaten themselves bloody in their misguided attempts to protect each other.

 

When he’d walked away from Tsuzuki over fifty years ago, Tatsumi had closed his heart, sealing in his emotions and refusing to address the still very mortal side of his existence.  He’d buried himself in work and firmly denied any life beyond the gray walls of his office.

 

Just my luck that ‘life’ came to me, in the form of a bright haired lunatic who will not leave well enough alone.

 

The irony that the light sought out the shadows was not lost on Tatsumi.  In his brighter moments, he was amused by the way life and even the afterlife worked.  Very little went as planned and after a century of existence, Tatsumi was secretly pleased to learn that there were still surprises out there with his name on them.

 

Lowering his hand, he perched his glasses back on his face and drew the file to his lap.  He knew there was a list of reasons why he should turn the case over to Tsuzuki and Hisoka, the least of which being that Tatsumi himself had been out of the field for over half a century, the excursion to help Hisoka’s family excluded.

 

And you’re making another exception to your own rule Seiichirou.  What is the point of having rules if you’re not going to abide by them yourself?

 

Tatsumi snorted at his logical self and flipped the file open.  His decision to get involved, yet again, made no sense but Tatsumi couldn’t imagine handling the matter any differently.  Hisoka and Tsuzuki had enough current demons to battle.  If he could spare them the necessity of tangling with a Gray Knight, then Tatsumi felt he owed it to Tsuzuki to try.   

 

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