While their attention had been on the succubus a thunderstorm had started to gather in the distance.  Tatsumi could hear a soft roll of thunder as he stood and helped Watari to his feet. 

 

Still bent slightly at the waist, the scientist took a slow, deep breath then straightened to his full height, turning to look his partner in the face.

 

“You let her go.  Twice.”

 

Though softly spoken, Watari’s words were loaded for bear and Tatsumi released the younger man and reeled away from the unspoken implications.

 

“She would have traumatized Esoka-san.”  Tatsumi pushed his hands into his pockets and paced away from Watari, walking towards one of the garden’s trees.  Heat lightening illuminated the night sky a resplendent violet, followed by another rumble of thunder.

 

“She will kill another mortal if we don’t stop her now.”  Still aching physically and battling demons of his own, Watari pressed the issue.  They could no longer afford to pussy foot around each other.

 

We’re supposed to be stronger than this, Seii… we have to be stronger than this.  Watari thought to himself as he took a couple of steps towards his partner.

 

The wind picked up, carrying the storm still closer, whispering through the trees and brushed a cooling breeze across Tatsumi’s face.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the storm-laden air, smelling the ozone of lightening along with the moisture of the rain.  They were scents he remembered from his childhood, when the ability to pick up hints of an incoming storm could mean the difference between saving crops and loosing them to the fury of nature.

 

“Would that be such a bad thing, Yutaka?”  Tatsumi whispered eyes still closed.

 

Only a few feet away, Watari stopped and studied the older man.  Tatsumi stood, head cast back the wind ruffling his dark hair, blowing strands of it across his brow.  The question shocked the younger Guardian and it took him a moment to separate it down to its logical parts, so as not to respond to it from a purely emotional platform.

 

“Yes, Seiichirou, it would.”  When he spoke Watari’s voice was also soft, nearly blown away on the growing wind.  His long hair played across his face and he reached up, catching at the strands and pushing them out of his eyes, over his shoulder.

 

A brief flash of forked lightening erupted out of the sky, striking some distance away but the accompanying roll of thunder sounded closer, it’s deep bass rumble shaking the ground the two Guardian’s stood upon.

 

Watari didn’t like thunderstorms, especially the ones accompanied by strong winds and lightening.  They more often than not played havoc with delicate lab equipment and could knock power out for hours, ruining painstakingly put together experiments.

 

Yet, Watari’s unease went deeper than just the practical.

 

He found the very formation and unpredictable nature of a thunderstorm disquieting.  You could always see a thunderstorm coming, looming in the distance.  Could watch the way a sunny sky turned black as pitch, feel the weight of the air pressure as high and low air masses collided but you could never halt or escape their volatile encounter.  A thunderstorm could remind a person of their insignificance as it raged overhead, heedless of the fragile life beneath it.  

 

Hands still in his pockets, Tatsumi turned slowly towards his partner.  Opening his eyes, he faced the younger man, impaling Watari with the full force of his brilliant, storm-fraught gaze.

 

“Indeed?”  The question was asked in a low dangerous tone.

 

It took every ounce of Watari’s considerable nerve to stand his ground in the face of both nature’s and Tatsumi’s unpredictable anger.

 

“Yes, because the decision over who lives and who dies is being made by one who has no say in such matters.”

 

“But is the decision wrong?”  Tatsumi asked in the same low tone, advancing slowly towards Watari.  Behind the Kagetsukai another flash of lightening lit up the night sky.

 

Watari crossed his arms over his chest; the long tails of his coat whipping about his legs as the storm winds grew more intense.

 

“The decision is wrong at its foundation because the one making it has no right to implement it.”

 

“You’re not answering my question.”  Tatsumi’s eyes burned with furious intensity as he closed the distance pushing into the smaller man’s personal space, seeking to physically intimidate the other Guardian into taking a step back.

 

Though his heart pounded in his chest, Watari held his ground.  At that moment being so close to Tatsumi was like standing next to a live electrical wire.  The scientist could feel the full force of the older man’s ferocity; could taste the Kagetsukai’s closely guarded passion.

 

Unfolding one arm, Watari reached out and set his hand against Tatsumi’s chest, right over his heart.  Looking up into his partner’s tormented blue eyes the younger Shinigami spoke gently.

 

“Look inside, Seiichirou.  I am answering your question and you know it.”

 

For a moment the tension between the two men spiked.  Like a living entity all it’s own made up of the formidable melding of their combined wills, it twisted between them, threatening to spark but then, in the crash of thunder, it blew apart and receded.  In the end it was Tatsumi who gave ground, stepping back and moving away.

 

The storm was closer now.  The lightening strikes came nearly on top of each other and the thunder-cracking overhead made the Earth shudder below.

 

While Watari would have happily moved their discussion indoors Tatsumi appeared unmindful of the storm erupting around him and the elder Guardian continued to pace in tight circuits between the trees and his partner.  The desperate movements reminded Watari of the way a wounded tiger would stalk back and forth, seeking to leave the agony behind.  If concern for his partner alone were not enough to keep the younger Shinigami stationary, Tatsumi’s palpable grief called to Watari making him resolute in the face of the combined storms.

 

Watari bore silent witness to Tatsumi’s inner struggle, watching, as the older man became more and more agitated.  When Tatsumi finally spun towards him, shouting to be heard over a clap of thunder, Watari felt a sense of relief as the storm broke around him.

 

“Those lives were being wasted, Yutaka, wasted!”

 

“But that doesn’t give the Fenalla the right to just harvest them as if this hospital were her personal grocery store.”  Watari pitched his voice to carry but was careful not to yell back.  Reaching up, he swiped at his hair as a few strands flew across his face and caught in his mouth.  “Who knows what those people might have ultimately done with their lives?  They each had the right to live their lives.”

 

“And Kelly Esoka doesn’t?”  Tatsumi’s eyes flared a piercing sapphire blue as he bore down on Watari, once again seeking to intimidate the younger man physically.

 

And as before, Watari didn’t budge.

 

“The fate of Kelly Esoka is tragic, Tatsumi but that is her fate.”

 

“Her fate is a mistake!” Tatsumi’s voice rose once more.

 

“That is not for us to judge!” Watari fought to keep control of his own emotions but Tatsumi’s next words were like a blow in the scientist’s gut.

 

“Well, it should be!”

 

Stunned, Watari stared at the older man in wide-eyed shock.

 

“Seii…” The younger Guardian began in a hushed whisper, only to have Tatsumi spin away from him and pace towards the singular tall tree that dominated the center of the garden, courting a lightening strike.

 

Catching his lower lip between his teeth in a pensive gesture, the scientist took a step forward.

 

“Tats…” He began again, only to be interrupted by his partner’s charged outburst.

 

“It should be!  When mistakes.” Tatsumi spat the word out as if it were distasteful. “When mistakes like this are made it should be up to us to judge.  People like Kelly Esoka are innocents and where is the rightness in their deaths?  Where is the rightness in the fact that her son, who is most innocent of all, will grow up not knowing his mother and in the same breath people who are throwing away their lives on drugs and debauchery and pain towards others are supposed to continue?  What is right about that Yutaka?”

 

Watari stayed perfectly still as he watched Tatsumi.  The older man gesticulated with choppy, violent motions and the shadows, moving about the garden, writhed restlessly across the ground.  Watari spared the shadows a glance, watching their agitated movements warily.

 

They were responding to Tatsumi’s distress the way Suzaku or any of the other Shikigami would respond to Tsuzuki’s emotional breakdowns. Ready to protect their master from any perceived threat and not altogether under his control.   Watari bit his lower lip, tearing his eyes purposefully away from the threatening shadows and focusing on Tatsumi’s face.

 

“Tatsumi-san!”  The younger Shinigami snapped sharply, purposefully emphasizing the formal tone in the face of his meticulous partner’s lapse into informality.

 

It had the desired effect.  Tatsumi froze in place, his blue eyes bright and not completely sane but the shadows settled a little, licking around Tatsumi’s ankles and wrists.

 

Giving the shadows one last, quick, and cautious glance Watari turned his eyes back up to his partner’s face.  Finally he broke his unnatural stillness and took a slow step towards Tatsumi.

 

“Seiichirou, listen to yourself.  When we start believing that we have the right to judge one life over another, the even hand of Death is compromised.  Our very function is compromised because no longer do we protect the mortal world, but we bastardize it into our image of what we believe it should be and how is that the right answer?  Who says we’re infallible?  We never stop being human.”

 

Now, it was Tatsumi’s turn to hold his ground as his partner moved with slow but inexorable steps towards him.

 

“Kelly Esoka’s fate is frustrating, and no more so than for Kelly Esoka herself but think back to what the Fenalla said.  Esoka-san would not want to perpetuate her life this way.  It is contrary to the very person she is and what right do any of us, you, me or the Fenalla have to make such a decision for Esoka-san?”

 

“We, we could ask…” Tatsumi began, rocking his weight from foot to foot, a physical manifestation of his desire to find an acceptable escape for the emotional torment of an unanswerable question.

 

Close enough now to touch his partner, Watari reached out and lay his hand on the taller man’s forearm, stilling the rocking motion.  The first drops of rain were starting to fall and the storm’s winds blew the younger Guardian’s hair against Tatsumi’s shoulder, the silky threads tickling the older man’s neck.

 

“How would you do that?  Wrest her consciousness from the Fenalla, tell her of the people who have been murdered on her behalf, then put the decision on her?  Would you have Kelly Esoka make a decision she should never have been subject to?  And if she were to choose this… vampire-like life, how would you enforce that?  You know EnMaDaiOh would never uphold such a pact.”

 

Tatsumi felt his own emotional storm begin to abate as each one of Watari’s calm, logical words washed over him.  Closing his eyes, he turned his face back up towards the cool raindrops.

 

“EnMaDaiOh, would never abide such a decision, you’re right about that.”  Tatsumi took a deep breath and then opened his eyes and turned to look at his partner.  The Kagetsukai’s sapphire gaze still burned but with the resolution of duty rather than the desperation of emotion. “And you’re also right, that Kelly Esoka should never have to make such a decision.  That’s our job.”

 

“And may I mention that we do not get paid enough?”  Watari’s voice was gentle softening the irreverent words.

 

Tatsumi snorted softly and ducked his head slightly to the side as Watari’s hair flicked him in the nose.

 

“I know I pay you enough for hair ties.  ‘Taka, could you…” Tatsumi asked as he reached up to catch at a few wayward strands which were creeping across his cheek.

 

Watari chuckled and caught his hair in both hands, giving the whole mass a deft twist before stuffing it down the back of his jacket in a temporary hold. 

 

If Tatsumi were honest with himself, he would admit that he missed the warm touch of the playful threads.  They had felt gentle, comforting, but their touch, along with his partner’s nearness, stirred up emotions already too confused.  Tatsumi acknowledge that he was in no fit state to sort through the feelings Watari was reawakening within his heart, not yet.

 

The rain was starting to fall harder, working its way down past the collar of Tatsumi’s dress shirt and tickling a path along his spine.  Meeting his partner’s amber eyes, Tatsumi nodded silently.

 

Watari returned the nod, a portion of his hair already starting to escape the confines of his coat as he turned and began to walk back towards the hospital.

 

Once again, without words needing to be exchanged, the two Shinigami began to hunt their prey.

 

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