Last bit of Mercy of the Fallen
Nov. 6th, 2005 05:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gaudiorHere for your perusal are cut scenes-- one of them a somewhat edited discussion I had with the excellent ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
walkerminion about life after the fic, the other the original epilogue, which turned out not to fit terribly well in the actual structure of the plot, but to be too much fun to delete. Enjoy! And thanks again to everyone who's been reading.
Their house is about half-ready when they arrive; basic furniture, some clothes and food and books-- though Kwannon sends them shopping on the second day, when they’re getting settled in. They have a lot of fun food-shopping. They hadn't been expecting to have fun that day-- at least, not the previous morning, when they woke up for the last time in Meifu. It's sometime halfway through buying china that it really hits them how their lives have changed, and they just turn to each other and sort of bubble over with relief and delight and anticipation and a little fear and a lot of excitement and just overwhelming joy. They get the really pretty blue bowls.
The house is pretty traditional in structure-- one-story, paper walls to stay cool and catch the breezes. It’s got a fairly basic layout-- main room (with a pair of futons in the closet), tea room off to the side, really well-stocked, roomy kitchen. And there's the not-at-all traditional room, which is a library, and all the walls are covered with bookshelves. It's got a seat in one corner with cushions, big enough to sleep in on nights when Hisoka wants to take some time for himself-- it takes him a while to get used to sleeping with someone, living with someone, all the time. He's happy about it, but it's strange. But good.
Their new coworkers are have a lot to teach, and they welcome new staff (might make their jobs ever so slightly less backbreaking. Ever-so-slightly). Tsuzuki gets the strange new experience of working with people who don't assume he's a slacker. Hisoka gets the strange new experience of working with people who don't assume he's just a kid.
Their first assignment is, Kwannon says, basic-- go cast out a demon that's possessing a boy in Tokyo. The thing that amazes them is that it *is* basic. They go, they figure out what the demon wants and how to get rid of it, they do so-- and the boy is *better*. And Tsuzuki just sort of stares, because he's taken an action, and it didn't end in blood-- it was scary in there for a while, but it turned out *okay.* And Hisoka shakes, because the boy was projecting his feelings pretty strongly, Hisoka was trying his damnedest not to feel them, and he got through the assignment-- and now the boy feels *better*. And so Hisoka's realizing that when people are feeling overwhelming fear and pain, he doesn't have to just try to block them out-- he can *change* them. That if he does something to make someone feel better, it will make *him* feel better. Still strange to not be sure whose feelings are whose, but there are ways of stopping horrible emotions other than trying to shut off from people. He hadn't known that before.
***************************************************************************
Potala was, in fact, fairly easy to find. If the JuOhCho building was the mirror of Tokyo’s Diet Building, Potala mirrored Okinawa. Waves crashed against the glistening white stones and coral-dotted beaches as they approached. They flew down gently, landing with soft thumps on a field of lush grass and pale blue flowers, startling a flock of white and crimson-coated deer. The deer trotted toward them, delicate legs dancing over the grass. They bleated quietly, nuzzling up against Tsuzuki’s hands, and Tsuzuki knelt with a laugh to pet them. “Hi again, hi again,” he said, scratching them behind their golden horns. He grinned up at Tatsumi. “They’re friendly.”
“So I see,” Tatsumi said, hiding a smile as a deer came up behind Tsuzuki-san and knocked him over on the grass. Tsuzuki fell cheerfully, flopping down full length to cuddle with the snuffling deer.
Kurosaki sighed-- not an impatient sigh, Tatsumi thought. Just a sigh. “The gardens go all the way along the coast,” Kurosaki said to him, pointing. “The office is up that mountain,” pointing inland, “and company housing is over this way.”
“And it’s really nice,” Tsuzuki put in from the ground. “Nothing like those closets the JuOhCho puts you in. Oh, and the gardens are great-- there’s a fountain over here that sings. Come take a look!” He got to his feet and led them off under the shade of hanging branches of trees. The deer followed, pushing over each other to be closest to his hands.
Kurosaki followed, a half-smile flicking over his face. “I’m amazed sometimes that we manage to get to work at all,” he said, with so little worry under his voice that it couldn’t really be called a complaint. “You haven’t even seen him with the lions yet.”
Tsuzuki laughed over his shoulder. “Hey, you like the lions, too. They like you.”
Kurosaki shrugged. “We get along,” he admitted. He looked over his shoulder at Tatsumi, and Tatsumi was reminded of how bitterly shy Kurosaki-kun had been when he first arrived in Meifu, saying exactly what the situation required, no more. Now he met Tatsumi’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re here, Tatsumi-san,” he said. “I’m sorry we’re interfering with your assignment.”
Tatsumi shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Kurosaki-kun. It’s more than worth it to know that you’re all right.”
Kurosaki-kun smiled at him, and that was an expression Tatsumi had never seen on his face. He seems relaxed, Tatsumi realized, finally able to put his finger on exactly how Kurosaki-kun seemed different. He hadn’t seen that before. Kurosaki-kun had learned to relax. And Tsuzuki-san...
Tsuzuki stretched, taking off his trenchcoat and draping it over his arm. “Way too hot,” he complained cheerfully. “Come on, let’s go home.” Kurosaki nodded, and Tsuzuki led them down a path of smooth white sand. “Though that’s the only real complaint I’ve got,” he said. “Other than that, it’s perfect. You should transfer, Tatsumi.”
Tatsumi raised an eyebrow. “Transfer, Tsuzuki-san?”
“You know,” Tsuzuki said. “Like we did. Come help us help people.” He took in Tatsumi’s expression. “Or not.”
“We’re here,” Kurosaki said. They had reached an area of one-story houses, roofed in red tile. A few people paused to greet them, and Tsuzuki waved back, calling out names and greetings. He led Tatsumi up to a small house surrounded by a flourishing garden. “Welcome in!”
“Excuse me for intruding,” Tatsumi said politely, removing his shoes. The interior of the house seemed caught in a war between chaos and order-- dishes neatly in the kitchen sink but unwashed, comic books on the table piled in straight stacks, an overabundance of summer flowers forced with stern dignity into an arrangement. Tsuzuki tossed his coat toward the corner, where Kurosaki caught it neatly out of the air and hung it up. “I’m home!” Tsuzuki said.
“Welcome back,” Kurosaki murmured. He caught Tatsumi’s expression and sighed. “Well, somebody has to say it.”
“Indeed,” Tatsumi said. It appeared that they were living together. He supposed it wasn’t his place to criticize that. It seemed, after all, to suit them both. “It’s a very pleasant house. My compliments.”
Kurosaki nodded. “Thank-you.”
Tsuzuki wiped sweat from his forehead. “Still way too hot,” he said. “I’m gonna go change. Hisoka, you want to make the tea?”
Kurosaki nodded. “Take your time,” he said. “We’ll be in the tea room.” Tsuzuki stepped toward him, then caught Tatsumi’s eye. Blushing slightly, he retreated into a back room, and Tatsumi wondered what he had intended-- whether he really kissed his partner as casually as that. Kurosaki caught his eye, and Tatsumi discovered again the familiar sense of exposure that he had often felt around Kurosaki. It was difficult not to be conscious of his feelings when he knew that they might be felt by another. The self-consciousness was usually eased somewhat by understanding Kurosaki’s inexperience, his lack of insight.
Tatsumi considered Kurosaki’s gaze, and was no longer certain of that lack. “How are your new duties finding you?” he asked.
Kurosaki shrugged. “Not bad,” he said. “It was a lot to get used to at first.” He opened kitchen cabinets to find tea supplies. “I thought we were busy back in Enma-cho, but here we’re working overtime every day.” The half-smile reappeared on his face. “Which isn’t exactly Kwannon-sama’s fault, but you can’t stop Tsuzuki.”
“Can’t stop him?” Tatsumi said. “From working? Tsuzuki-san?”
Kurosaki snorted, almost a laugh. “Think of work as like cake, and you get the idea.” He pulled down a ladle, looking thoughtful. “It’s different here, I suppose. We save people. It’s sort of the opposite of our old cases-- they start off dying, and end up basically all right. Doing that for people is... different.” He shrugged, voice going matter-of-fact again. “It’s nice to be able to use the empathy for something constructive.”
“Indeed,” Tatsumi said softly. Kurosaki’s empathic abilities had always seemed like a secret wound, he thought, something liable to strike him down at the worst possible moment. He had been aware of the liability whenever they went into the field. If he had learned to turn it to an asset... “It seems to suit you both.”
“Mm,” Kurosaki said. “Yeah. It does.” He pulled down an earthenware container of tea. “Though it’s strange not to see all of you.”
“You are much missed,” Tatsumi said. “Watari complains constantly that he has no-one to try his potions.”
“That’s too bad,” Kurosaki said, sounding amused. He turned back to Tatsumi, green eyes thoughtful. “He meant it, you know. About you transferring.”
“Yes,” Tatsumi said. “I know.” He glanced out the window where blooming plants pressed for admittance. “It’s... an interesting idea. But I’m not sure I would be of as much use here as I am in the Summons Department office.” He sighed. “In the end, I have never understood Tsuzuki-san’s hatred of the job, I suppose. Lives end. No-one is immortal. Does he really think it would be better for souls to wander aimlessly than for them to be called to judgment?”
“Maybe not,” Kurosaki said. “He just didn’t want to be the one who called them.” He took down a tea bowl, frowning thoughtfully. “He wanted to make everyone happy, all the time. Maybe that’s because he’d never been happy himself, so he didn’t know how happiness worked.”
“Kurosaki-kun...” Tatsumi said, “he’s happy now, isn’t he?”
“Not always,” Kurosaki said. “There are still some people we can’t save the way he’d like to. And he still has the same memories. But in general... yes.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in Kurosaki’s voice, reflected delight. “He’s happy.”
There was truth in Kurosaki’s voice, and Tatsumi could feel fifty years’ burden starting to lift away. It felt strangely unmooring. “Then I owe you thanks,” he said. “All my thanks. You’ve done what I couldn’t.”
“I didn’t do it,” Kurosaki said. “He’s the one who decided to come here. I helped, but he’s the one who decided to let go.” He studied Tatsumi for a moment. “I couldn’t make him happy any more than you could, Tatsumi-san. He had to do it for himself.”
“But you helped him do that,” Tatsumi pointed out. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but I do not believe he would have been in a position to make that decision without you.”
“Nope.” Tatsumi jumped at Tsuzuki’s voice behind him, but his former partner didn’t seem upset to hear them talking about him, just strangely solemn. He walked in, looking cool and comfortable in light summer clothes. “I wouldn’t have. I’d’ve gone to Hell. I figured I deserved it, you know?” Tatsumi frowned-- normally, for Tsuzuki-san to say something like that, he’d have to be upset enough to hurt something badly, probably himself. Tsuzuki shrugged sheepishly. “Which maybe I did, but... maybe I deserve this, too? Is what Hisoka says.”
“And I’m right,” Kurosaki said firmly.
“Yeah, well,” Tsuzuki said. “You usually are.” He met Kurosaki’s eyes. “You know me better than I do, you know.”
Kurosaki shrugged. “You taught me how.”
Tatsumi looked away, not wanting to intrude. But Kurosaki looked up, blushing very faintly. “Sorry, Tatsumi-san. The tea’s almost ready.”
“So I see.” He did see, Tatsumi realized. He saw why Tsuzuki-san had finally consented to realize his own value. “It’s all right, Kurosaki...san. Please continue.”
Kurosaki smiled.
walkerminion about life after the fic, the other the original epilogue, which turned out not to fit terribly well in the actual structure of the plot, but to be too much fun to delete. Enjoy! And thanks again to everyone who's been reading.Their house is about half-ready when they arrive; basic furniture, some clothes and food and books-- though Kwannon sends them shopping on the second day, when they’re getting settled in. They have a lot of fun food-shopping. They hadn't been expecting to have fun that day-- at least, not the previous morning, when they woke up for the last time in Meifu. It's sometime halfway through buying china that it really hits them how their lives have changed, and they just turn to each other and sort of bubble over with relief and delight and anticipation and a little fear and a lot of excitement and just overwhelming joy. They get the really pretty blue bowls.
The house is pretty traditional in structure-- one-story, paper walls to stay cool and catch the breezes. It’s got a fairly basic layout-- main room (with a pair of futons in the closet), tea room off to the side, really well-stocked, roomy kitchen. And there's the not-at-all traditional room, which is a library, and all the walls are covered with bookshelves. It's got a seat in one corner with cushions, big enough to sleep in on nights when Hisoka wants to take some time for himself-- it takes him a while to get used to sleeping with someone, living with someone, all the time. He's happy about it, but it's strange. But good.
Their new coworkers are have a lot to teach, and they welcome new staff (might make their jobs ever so slightly less backbreaking. Ever-so-slightly). Tsuzuki gets the strange new experience of working with people who don't assume he's a slacker. Hisoka gets the strange new experience of working with people who don't assume he's just a kid.
Their first assignment is, Kwannon says, basic-- go cast out a demon that's possessing a boy in Tokyo. The thing that amazes them is that it *is* basic. They go, they figure out what the demon wants and how to get rid of it, they do so-- and the boy is *better*. And Tsuzuki just sort of stares, because he's taken an action, and it didn't end in blood-- it was scary in there for a while, but it turned out *okay.* And Hisoka shakes, because the boy was projecting his feelings pretty strongly, Hisoka was trying his damnedest not to feel them, and he got through the assignment-- and now the boy feels *better*. And so Hisoka's realizing that when people are feeling overwhelming fear and pain, he doesn't have to just try to block them out-- he can *change* them. That if he does something to make someone feel better, it will make *him* feel better. Still strange to not be sure whose feelings are whose, but there are ways of stopping horrible emotions other than trying to shut off from people. He hadn't known that before.
***************************************************************************
Potala was, in fact, fairly easy to find. If the JuOhCho building was the mirror of Tokyo’s Diet Building, Potala mirrored Okinawa. Waves crashed against the glistening white stones and coral-dotted beaches as they approached. They flew down gently, landing with soft thumps on a field of lush grass and pale blue flowers, startling a flock of white and crimson-coated deer. The deer trotted toward them, delicate legs dancing over the grass. They bleated quietly, nuzzling up against Tsuzuki’s hands, and Tsuzuki knelt with a laugh to pet them. “Hi again, hi again,” he said, scratching them behind their golden horns. He grinned up at Tatsumi. “They’re friendly.”
“So I see,” Tatsumi said, hiding a smile as a deer came up behind Tsuzuki-san and knocked him over on the grass. Tsuzuki fell cheerfully, flopping down full length to cuddle with the snuffling deer.
Kurosaki sighed-- not an impatient sigh, Tatsumi thought. Just a sigh. “The gardens go all the way along the coast,” Kurosaki said to him, pointing. “The office is up that mountain,” pointing inland, “and company housing is over this way.”
“And it’s really nice,” Tsuzuki put in from the ground. “Nothing like those closets the JuOhCho puts you in. Oh, and the gardens are great-- there’s a fountain over here that sings. Come take a look!” He got to his feet and led them off under the shade of hanging branches of trees. The deer followed, pushing over each other to be closest to his hands.
Kurosaki followed, a half-smile flicking over his face. “I’m amazed sometimes that we manage to get to work at all,” he said, with so little worry under his voice that it couldn’t really be called a complaint. “You haven’t even seen him with the lions yet.”
Tsuzuki laughed over his shoulder. “Hey, you like the lions, too. They like you.”
Kurosaki shrugged. “We get along,” he admitted. He looked over his shoulder at Tatsumi, and Tatsumi was reminded of how bitterly shy Kurosaki-kun had been when he first arrived in Meifu, saying exactly what the situation required, no more. Now he met Tatsumi’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re here, Tatsumi-san,” he said. “I’m sorry we’re interfering with your assignment.”
Tatsumi shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Kurosaki-kun. It’s more than worth it to know that you’re all right.”
Kurosaki-kun smiled at him, and that was an expression Tatsumi had never seen on his face. He seems relaxed, Tatsumi realized, finally able to put his finger on exactly how Kurosaki-kun seemed different. He hadn’t seen that before. Kurosaki-kun had learned to relax. And Tsuzuki-san...
Tsuzuki stretched, taking off his trenchcoat and draping it over his arm. “Way too hot,” he complained cheerfully. “Come on, let’s go home.” Kurosaki nodded, and Tsuzuki led them down a path of smooth white sand. “Though that’s the only real complaint I’ve got,” he said. “Other than that, it’s perfect. You should transfer, Tatsumi.”
Tatsumi raised an eyebrow. “Transfer, Tsuzuki-san?”
“You know,” Tsuzuki said. “Like we did. Come help us help people.” He took in Tatsumi’s expression. “Or not.”
“We’re here,” Kurosaki said. They had reached an area of one-story houses, roofed in red tile. A few people paused to greet them, and Tsuzuki waved back, calling out names and greetings. He led Tatsumi up to a small house surrounded by a flourishing garden. “Welcome in!”
“Excuse me for intruding,” Tatsumi said politely, removing his shoes. The interior of the house seemed caught in a war between chaos and order-- dishes neatly in the kitchen sink but unwashed, comic books on the table piled in straight stacks, an overabundance of summer flowers forced with stern dignity into an arrangement. Tsuzuki tossed his coat toward the corner, where Kurosaki caught it neatly out of the air and hung it up. “I’m home!” Tsuzuki said.
“Welcome back,” Kurosaki murmured. He caught Tatsumi’s expression and sighed. “Well, somebody has to say it.”
“Indeed,” Tatsumi said. It appeared that they were living together. He supposed it wasn’t his place to criticize that. It seemed, after all, to suit them both. “It’s a very pleasant house. My compliments.”
Kurosaki nodded. “Thank-you.”
Tsuzuki wiped sweat from his forehead. “Still way too hot,” he said. “I’m gonna go change. Hisoka, you want to make the tea?”
Kurosaki nodded. “Take your time,” he said. “We’ll be in the tea room.” Tsuzuki stepped toward him, then caught Tatsumi’s eye. Blushing slightly, he retreated into a back room, and Tatsumi wondered what he had intended-- whether he really kissed his partner as casually as that. Kurosaki caught his eye, and Tatsumi discovered again the familiar sense of exposure that he had often felt around Kurosaki. It was difficult not to be conscious of his feelings when he knew that they might be felt by another. The self-consciousness was usually eased somewhat by understanding Kurosaki’s inexperience, his lack of insight.
Tatsumi considered Kurosaki’s gaze, and was no longer certain of that lack. “How are your new duties finding you?” he asked.
Kurosaki shrugged. “Not bad,” he said. “It was a lot to get used to at first.” He opened kitchen cabinets to find tea supplies. “I thought we were busy back in Enma-cho, but here we’re working overtime every day.” The half-smile reappeared on his face. “Which isn’t exactly Kwannon-sama’s fault, but you can’t stop Tsuzuki.”
“Can’t stop him?” Tatsumi said. “From working? Tsuzuki-san?”
Kurosaki snorted, almost a laugh. “Think of work as like cake, and you get the idea.” He pulled down a ladle, looking thoughtful. “It’s different here, I suppose. We save people. It’s sort of the opposite of our old cases-- they start off dying, and end up basically all right. Doing that for people is... different.” He shrugged, voice going matter-of-fact again. “It’s nice to be able to use the empathy for something constructive.”
“Indeed,” Tatsumi said softly. Kurosaki’s empathic abilities had always seemed like a secret wound, he thought, something liable to strike him down at the worst possible moment. He had been aware of the liability whenever they went into the field. If he had learned to turn it to an asset... “It seems to suit you both.”
“Mm,” Kurosaki said. “Yeah. It does.” He pulled down an earthenware container of tea. “Though it’s strange not to see all of you.”
“You are much missed,” Tatsumi said. “Watari complains constantly that he has no-one to try his potions.”
“That’s too bad,” Kurosaki said, sounding amused. He turned back to Tatsumi, green eyes thoughtful. “He meant it, you know. About you transferring.”
“Yes,” Tatsumi said. “I know.” He glanced out the window where blooming plants pressed for admittance. “It’s... an interesting idea. But I’m not sure I would be of as much use here as I am in the Summons Department office.” He sighed. “In the end, I have never understood Tsuzuki-san’s hatred of the job, I suppose. Lives end. No-one is immortal. Does he really think it would be better for souls to wander aimlessly than for them to be called to judgment?”
“Maybe not,” Kurosaki said. “He just didn’t want to be the one who called them.” He took down a tea bowl, frowning thoughtfully. “He wanted to make everyone happy, all the time. Maybe that’s because he’d never been happy himself, so he didn’t know how happiness worked.”
“Kurosaki-kun...” Tatsumi said, “he’s happy now, isn’t he?”
“Not always,” Kurosaki said. “There are still some people we can’t save the way he’d like to. And he still has the same memories. But in general... yes.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in Kurosaki’s voice, reflected delight. “He’s happy.”
There was truth in Kurosaki’s voice, and Tatsumi could feel fifty years’ burden starting to lift away. It felt strangely unmooring. “Then I owe you thanks,” he said. “All my thanks. You’ve done what I couldn’t.”
“I didn’t do it,” Kurosaki said. “He’s the one who decided to come here. I helped, but he’s the one who decided to let go.” He studied Tatsumi for a moment. “I couldn’t make him happy any more than you could, Tatsumi-san. He had to do it for himself.”
“But you helped him do that,” Tatsumi pointed out. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but I do not believe he would have been in a position to make that decision without you.”
“Nope.” Tatsumi jumped at Tsuzuki’s voice behind him, but his former partner didn’t seem upset to hear them talking about him, just strangely solemn. He walked in, looking cool and comfortable in light summer clothes. “I wouldn’t have. I’d’ve gone to Hell. I figured I deserved it, you know?” Tatsumi frowned-- normally, for Tsuzuki-san to say something like that, he’d have to be upset enough to hurt something badly, probably himself. Tsuzuki shrugged sheepishly. “Which maybe I did, but... maybe I deserve this, too? Is what Hisoka says.”
“And I’m right,” Kurosaki said firmly.
“Yeah, well,” Tsuzuki said. “You usually are.” He met Kurosaki’s eyes. “You know me better than I do, you know.”
Kurosaki shrugged. “You taught me how.”
Tatsumi looked away, not wanting to intrude. But Kurosaki looked up, blushing very faintly. “Sorry, Tatsumi-san. The tea’s almost ready.”
“So I see.” He did see, Tatsumi realized. He saw why Tsuzuki-san had finally consented to realize his own value. “It’s all right, Kurosaki...san. Please continue.”
Kurosaki smiled.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-06 11:28 pm (UTC)You are truly one of the best writers I have ever read, and I have been reading fic like the nerdtastic geek I am for years and years in more fandoms than Tsuzuki's issues (aka A WHOLE FARKING BOATLOAD). You have a sharp, clean narrative that flows wonderfully, with an attention to detail that brings everything together into vibrant picture. I love it! But what I am most impressed by is the depth of your characterization and how well you understand these characters, major and minor. You get us into Hisoka's head so well that we experience his fall, his upheaval, and his ultimate resolution with him; we feel his spectrum of emotions from pain to helplessness to happiness.
There is simply so much heart in your story that I cannot say enough about it (I am blabbering now; focus, self, focus!)! I love how you were able to bring everyone to a resolution in the end that fit each of them individually and what they needed. You didn't make the mistake some writers do of slapping redemption on someone, or keeping someone to the same villainized/heroized role. You took what what we love and understand in canon and furthered that understanding, moving these characters in new places and ultimately, to one where they can be happy, and not just as a plot device.
Thank you so much for these stories. They are my canon now, and I can't imagine it going any other way (well, that's a lie, I can always do that, but this is certainly the best :D). I am uplifted by them, and want to tell you how much I appreciate the thought and work that went into them. Simply put, you are brilliant, the end and good night. :))
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-07 05:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-07 06:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-07 01:28 pm (UTC)This story has been simply *amazing*, and I'm so sad to see it end! (What will I read in the mornings now? Guess you'll just have to write another one ... *hinthinthint*) I've enjoyed all your YnM fics to date, but I've got to say that this one is my favorite. The amount of research that you've done is incredible, and the story itself is just awesome. Everyone wins in the end - even Muraki. I never would've thought it possible. ^_^