If a spirit is to remain grounded to the earth, it needs a tether. Done for a challange.
Muraki was nowhere to be seen. He knew the other man was there, because that was the way the memory went so naturally the dream would follow suite, but the doctor was nowhere within line of sight. He turned in a tight circle, green eyes glaring into the darkness, searching. There was nothing. Unsure of what else to do and wishing heartily the dream would run its violent, unpleasant course quickly and get it over with, he walked over to the cherry tree and leaned against the trunk and waited.
The dream didn't progress. The wind blew a soft snow of cherry petals across the grass. He thought he heard a mouse, somewhere. The more he looked, the more it seemed that there was a definite boundary out there in the shadows, a place where the dream actively ended. Tired of waiting, he pushed away from the featureless bark and stalked toward it. If the dream wasn't going to happen, he'd just go find one that would.
The bonds scrawled across his skin pulsed once in warning, then flared to life, dropping him to his knees halfway across the grass. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see through the thick film of red in front of him, couldn't feel anything except that same red crawling along his pulse points.
"You always were impatient, boy."
The hand that closed around his chin and tilted his head up was expected, the closeness of the white clad man standing over him almost welcome in its predictability. Almost. He focused, willing his eyes to see, forcing a reduction in his helplessness.
Silver eyes smiled down at him and he knew, the same way you do when the world around you snaps into focus and you're as aware as the sheets beneath you as you are your heartbeat and the world has sound again, that while the rest of the scene was memory, the man standing behind him was real. Despite the fact he'd been expecting this entrance felt like at least half an hour, he nearly screamed. The bonds pulsed again, tugging at him, binding his muscles together and stretching his veins until he was lightheaded. "W...what...?"
This wasn't right. This wasn't the dream. This was impossible.
Muraki laughed. "You mean improbable. Nothing is impossible."
He somehow knew that was a quote from somewhere.
"You need to read more, boy." The doctor smiled, his fingers caressing Hisoka's jaw line.
"You need to die." Hisoka's eyes narrowed, hatred following in the wake of the pain. To his mild surprise, the doctor flickered. For just a moment, he was almost not there, his form faded until it was little more than an after image on Hisoka's retinas.
Another surge of pain, sharper than before, and he was back, glaring down at his victim, fingers tightening painfully. "No you don't." The doctor knelt, a knee on either side of his victim, one arm snaking around the boy's waist, pulling him close. Lips brushed the shell of Hisoka's ear, teasing, as the other man whispered. "I'm almost ready to come back, boy. There are just a few more arrangements to make. Although I suppose I should thank you for keeping me here all of this time."
The bonds pulsed. Muraki set his lips against one running up the side of Hisoka's neck and suckled. Hisoka screamed. He didn't feel the hands pushing aside his robes. He didn't feel the skin pressing against his back. He didn't feel anything except his pulse, filling the inside of his skull with thick red.
"Nnnn..." He rolled over and threw an arm over his eye. It didn't work.
"Oh come on!" Tsuzuki poked him cheerfully. "Not even I'm this lazy."
"I don't feel good..." He felt drained, as if he were at the end of a particularly hard week. What's worse was that he was fairly certain he'd dreamed, but he couldn't remember what.
Tsuzuki frowned down at him. "But we've just been given a case...oh well, I can probably handle it myself. It looks fairly straight forward. Now that Muraki's gone, it should be safe."
"Yeah..." Hisoka replied absently. "Now that Muraki's gone..."
His bonds pulsed lightly.