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"No!" Tsuzuki screamed, his knees nearly giving out as he looked about helplessly. Hy grabbed Tsuzuki's arm, shouldering the man's weight enough to give him balance.

"It's okay, Tsuzuki. He's a guardian. He'll be all right," Hy said. Tsuzuki shook his head.

"You don't understand. Muraki is powerful. He's vicious. He'll hurt him. The last time -- he sliced him to ribbons," Tsuzuki wailed. "Hisoka doesn't have a shiki to protect him. This is all my fault. He wants me. Why didn't he take me?"

"Because he's a coward, hiding behind someone you love to get to you," Hy spat angrily. "Hisoka said himself that he wants to be found. We'll find them, Tsuzuki, don't worry."

xxxx

Tsuzuki spent hours wandering the streets of the French Quarter, tirelessly looking into every open doorway, scanning every terrace and alleyway for something, anything that might provide him with a clue as to where Muraki had disappeared to. Hy had gone to retrace their steps, and to contact Jarrett and Josephine. Tsuzuki thought briefly of getting in touch with Tatsumi, but knew even he could be of little help in this situation.

He had nearly lost all hope, when his phone rang.

"Mr. Tsuzuki?" a woman's voice asked.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"This is Cassandra, from the other day. I saw the man in the photo you showed me, the one all dressed in white. He just left my shop and was headed towards Rue Street," she said. Tsuzuki thanked her and crammed the phone in his jacket pocket. Rue Street was less than a block away.

xxxx

Breathlessly, he caught a glimpse of Muraki sliding behind the wheel of a black car, pulling onto the street before Tsuzuki could catch up. Unable to fly in his present form, he did the only thing he could, hailing a taxi.

"Follow that black car ahead," he demanded the girl driving the cab.

"Really? Wow, that's like something from a movie," she said cheerfully, swiftly swinging into traffic at full speed, throwing Tsuzuki back against the seat.

"So, who're we chasing?" she called over her shoulder as she ran a red light, bringing the other car back into view. Tsuzuki sighed with relief, fearing they'd lost them.

"Um -- a guy. He took something I need to get back," Tsuzuki said, his purple eyes watching the road ahead intently.

"Uh-huh," the girl said skeptically, getting the message that further inquiry would be useless.

Now that they had caught up to him, the chase was rather uneventful. Muraki drove pretty sensibly for a psychotic murderer, Tsusuki noted, as they followed behind him across what had to be the longest bridge in the world. Tsusuki groaned impatiently.

"Calm down, cutie. We'll get there. Wherever there is," the girl said.

The landscape changed drastically, Tsuzuki taking in the part of the city that had been devastated by recent flood and storm. He thought briefly of Josephine at the Ministry office, realizing why she seemed so weary and overworked, this being her jurisdiction. This in turn reminded him of Hy and Jarrett. He pulled out the cell phone and called Hy, telling him what had happened, and giving him the closest description he could of his present location.

The black car began to slow, pulling into a row of damaged and run down houses.

"Pull over," he asked the girl, who complied, letting their target go ahead, parking at the other end of the street.

"Good luck, cutie," the girl said as he paid her, tipping her handsomely, knowing he'd took her well out of her usual section of town.


Tsuzuki proceeded cautiously, darting across yards and between houses until he was well in view of the stopped vehicle. Muraki was leaning over the open trunk, where Tsuzuki saw Hisoka laying unconscious. He was startled as the passenger door swung open, revealing someone he hadn't expected.

"Good work, Cassandra," Muraki said, caressing the side of the young woman's face. "This whole experiment has gotten more interesting than I even imagined."

Tsuzuki watched, the blood draining from his face, as Muraki looked knowingly in his direction before swinging the limp boy's body over his shoulder and carrying him into a small house at the end of the drive. Cassandra ambled towards him on shaky legs, reaching for his arm. Tsuzuki backed away from her.

"Now, now, Mr. Tsuzuki, I'm merely escorting you inside. You're not afraid of little me, are you?" she purred. Tsuzuki stared at her angrily, brushing past her towards the house.

"I'm not afraid of you. I just don't trust you," he said. The woman flew at him, her long fingernails digging into his sleeve.

"Then I must insist," she hissed, her eyes flashing red. Tsuzuki gave a heavy sigh, shaking her from him, retrieving a fuda from his jacket and spinning around to face her.

"Prepare to be exorcized, demonic spirit," he said, and began to chant an incantation. He stopped, upon hearing slow applause behind him, turning around.

"Always prepared for any scenario, like a good little boy scout," Muraki said, dropping his hands. "Your melodrama is highly unnecessary. If little Cassandra bothers you so much, I can fix that. Cassandra?" The bewitched woman turned to him expectantly.

"Yes, Master?" she asked. Muraki smiled.

"Die," the doctor commanded. The woman's eyes widened slightly, her mouth agape, as blood began to stain her lips. She slumped to the ground silently.

"Pity. She was a very interesting acquaintance. Did you know that she was in her sixties? No, you wouldn't, to look at her. Very clever, and very powerful woman. In fact, she was the one who taught me the marking curse I placed upon the boy. It must be that connection that is making it shine so prettily again," Muraki said, his silver eye gleaming while the other stayed concealed behind a lock of white hair.

"Where's Hisoka, you sick son of a bitch?" Tsuzuki growled through clenched teeth. Muraki sighed.

"Always such a one track mind with you during our all too brief meetings," Muraki said. "Very well. Follow me."

Tsuzuki followed Muraki into the house, always keeping his guard up. The front room was crammed with odd statues, jars of things he couldn't identify, and stank of stale incense. Hisoka was stretched out upon a dusty chaise lounge, his body stripped and the markings blazing a strange map of patterns across his skin. His eyes were open and glassy. He looked like a lifeless doll.

"He's never looked more beautiful, has he?" Muraki murmured, running a long white finger across his chest.

"Don't touch him!" Tsuzuki yelled, lunging at the doctor, who stepped out of his way, laughing.

"I've had him already, Tsuzuki. He is of no use to me," Muraki said, as Tsuzuki pulled himself up from where he'd fallen across the boy.

"What have you done to him?" Tsuzuki demanded, staring into Hisoka's blank eyes.

"He's very much alive, if that's what you're wondering. Why, I expect his mind is racing in a most claustrophobic little hell right now. He can hear and see everything," Muraki said. Tsuzuki shuddered.

"The toxin from the puffer fish," Tsuzuki said, looking up.

"Very good, Tsuzuki. I see we have done our homework. The dosage would have been lethal for a mere mortal, but he will recover," Muraki said.

"That's what you used on the victims. What have you done with them, Muraki? They're still alive, aren't they?" he asked, looking around the room for any signs of their presence.

"They were," Muraki said with a shrug. "I treated them to a traditional zombie death when I was through. The blame will all fall upon our Madame Cassandra, I fear. There have been superstitious rumors about her for years."

Tsuzuki caught a quick, involuntary glance from Muraki's eye towards a door just behind him. He quickly flung it open, and recoiled in horror. There, upon the floor, were the neatly stacked victims, their eyes glazed over with a white film, and their lips sewn shut. The floor was scattered with salt, which crunched beneath his feet as he turned on his heel.

Muraki was bent over the prostrate form of Hisoka, as he looked up at Tsuzuki.

"How sad to be used so early into existence. He'll never be entirely yours, Tsuzuki, no matter how badly you want him," Muraki said, his hair falling away from his mismatched eyes, watching him eagerly. Tsuzuki used all his self control, trying not to give Muraki the pleasure of feeding upon his anger.

"He was never yours, Muraki. You can't force anyone to be yours. I live for Hisoka alone. I belong to him, not the other way around," Tsuzuki said, focusing his gaze upon the staring green eyes of the boy before him. Muraki stood upright, bored with what he failed to manipulate.

"Tsuzuki, I am touched that my favorite playmates have come to visit me. It was an unexpected and delightful surprise, but I have other things to attend to," the doctor said, standing upright and turning towards the door.

"You're not going anywhere, Muraki. This ends here," Tsuzuki said through clenched teeth, reaching into his jacket. He froze, as an icy hand encircled his wrist with a steel-like grip.

"You're wrong, my darling Tsuzuki. We have many more rounds left in our game," Muraki said, turning the handle on the door. "Oh, and a bit of parting advice. Broken things should really be disposed of." And with that, he was gone. The clammy hand that held him relented, slinking lifelessly back to the floor.