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tampered2006-09-11 02:28 pm
saccharine-end.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-09-11 02:28 pm
Log, Complete.
When: Sept. 9th, near midnight
Rating: PG
Characters: Seiichirou Tatsumi [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thrifty_shadow] and Asato Tsuzuki [saccharine_end]
Summary: Tatsumi discusses his...dislike of Tsuzuki being too trusting.
Log:
It had happened so fast Tsuzuki hadn’t been able to think.
A hand was pulling at his arm, jerking him non-too gently from the chair he’d been sitting in as he’d typed up another reply -it was fun having this kind of speaking access! And something didn’t feel right. Something ate at the back of Tsuzuki’s mind, louder than the clamor of his shikigami, almost desperate, but he couldn’t reach it, couldn’t touch it. It seemed cool, a frigid reality that walked hand-in-hand with the City. The thoughts were there, instantly reminding him of everything pre-City and now, what had happened to Rangiku, how’d he accidentally…
Tsuzuki blinked, picking up the flaring disturbance in the air, how Tatsumi’s fingers tightened around his arm as he led him away from the terrible device already rotting his brain, and he tried stopping it, pulling back and weighing the other shinigami down. But Tsuzuki knew Tatsumi wasn’t a fool, wouldn’t have been deterred with such a juvenile trick, and he allowed himself to be manhandled, afraid of what he felt, what was around him.
“T-Tatsumi, what…?” Even his voice sounded anxious, and…it wasn’t going to be pretty.
"I told you," was all Tatsumi said as he dragged him towards the sofas and threw him there. "Why don't you ever listen to me, Tsuzuki?"
The shadows followed their master, surrounding the two shinigami to prevent Tsuzuki from fleeing.
He ate a mouth full of cushions before he could even say anything, the couch far more unforgiving than it usually was, and he rolled around, fighting with some invisible opponent before flopping on the ground. Shaking it off quickly, Tsuzuki stared up at Tatsumi with a questioning look, emotions free in amethyst eyes.
“What are you…? Tatsumi, I…” He bit his lip, aware of what was coming. He just wasn’t sure he was ready for it.
"What did I tell you about last time? About not telling anyone else about us being shinigami?" Tatsumi paused, becoming suddenly aware of his rising voice. He continued in a quieter tone, "I was telling you, over and over again -- that man felt dangerous. Did you listen? You must think of it as a game. Just because that thing--" Tatsumi pointed at the abandoned computer. "--doesn't let you see actual people, hear them, doesn't mean you can freely divulge secrets like you just did! I've warned you over and over...."
Tatsumi let the sentence trail away. He didn't want to have to remind Tsuzuki again of Muraki.
It was a natural reaction to wince, visibly, rather quickly and with reflexes bringing his arms up and over his head, as if Tatsumi was going to hit him. And it was ridiculous, being afraid like this, but he could feel the other shinigami’s shadows, swirling closer and then away. Tatsumi was a formidable enemy when provoked, and Tsuzuki had done more than provoke. He’d ripped the hinges off the door.
“I know, but…I didn’t think it’d be so bad…Tatsumi….” Arms slowly lowering, he watched the other with relatively huge eyes, heart pounding.
"Like I said." Tatsumi's face hardened into a deep frown. "You didn't.... You don't think anything is bad until they're drawing blood from you, Tsuzuki." Muraki had been at the tip of his tongue again. Tatsumi wanted to say it again, to remind Tsuzuki where his foolishness had gotten him; asking death from his own shikigami. But Tatsumi held his tongue, keeping his tone quiet but deadly serious.
Why don't you ever listen to me? But you listen to Watari, to Kurosaki, to everyone but me.
This is about…I don’t know.
He’d almost voiced this confusion, still having trouble wondering why Tatsumi was so angry with him. So he’d made the smallest of slips. What of it? That didn’t necessarily mean they were going to be sought after, hunted, or threatened because he’d happened to mention being a shinigami. But Tatsumi was lecturing him, had dragged him away from the computer, thrown him on the couch…
Was Tatsumi afraid something bad would happen?
He immediately drew defensive.
“I…that’s not true! Tatsumi, I was just…” What had he been doing? Now, having Tatsumi face him like this, late in the night, Tsuzuki wasn’t so sure. Making friends sounded so ridiculous, and…
Looking up at Tatsumi, he swallowed. He was in so much trouble.
Tatsumi's eyes narrowed into slits, and his voice deepened, taking a dangerous tone, "You don't even remember, do you? Tsuzuki, do you remember what you got into trouble for before?" He purposely kept all mention of Muraki out again, but left it implied for Tsuzuki to hopefully pick up on his own. "I spoke with shinigami like Matsumoto-san, Tsuzuki. They're different from us. You may think this is nothing but I see the danger of.... announcing our abnormality. Our bodies have been modified, as you know. Enma knows what kind of hell that could get us into, Tsuzuki. There are... curious... people out there." People like Muraki. People who desire to hurt, who will wish for something to hurt without fearing for its fragility. People who want to inflict nothing but pain. "Why can't you ever understand that? Why can't you get it into your brain that strangers deserve to be treated with wariness? Instead, you throw yourself at everyone without any reservation at all while I stand here and worry and pick up the bloody pieces whenever you break down, unable to handle the stress you have forced yourself into!"
His mouth opened in lieu of immediate explanation, tongue moving to form the words he wanted to speak, but the sounds instantly died away at the shivering chime working over his soul. Tsuzuki instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the sharpest cold chill in existence wash over him as the hour struck midnight, turning over and over again in his mind the things Tatsumi had said. Was it really so wrong to be so…trusting? Why did the other think it so wrong to…
Tsuzuki shuddered as the noises continued, faint. Somehow, it rivaled that lonesome ticking, icy hot, and all he could do was stare up at Tatsumi, afraid, wondering about this feeling.
He’d felt it before. Hadn’t he…?
“Tatsumi, I’m…” He bit his lip. I’m sorry…
Tatsumi sighed and turned away, one hand rubbing at his forehead at the dull beginnings of a headache. "Nevermind," Tatsumi said defeatedly, knowing his friend would never understand his worry. He sighed again and muttered to himself with a bitter chuckle, "Sometimes, Tsuzuki, I wish... so that I wouldn't worry so much for you like I do... I wish I didn't have a heart..."
As soon as he'd finished the words, a sharp, blinding pain struck him in his chest. He let out a sharp cry and collapsed to his knees, clutching at his chest... where the heart should be...
Rating: PG
Characters: Seiichirou Tatsumi [
thrifty_shadow] and Asato Tsuzuki [saccharine_end] Summary: Tatsumi discusses his...dislike of Tsuzuki being too trusting.
Log:
It had happened so fast Tsuzuki hadn’t been able to think.
A hand was pulling at his arm, jerking him non-too gently from the chair he’d been sitting in as he’d typed up another reply -it was fun having this kind of speaking access! And something didn’t feel right. Something ate at the back of Tsuzuki’s mind, louder than the clamor of his shikigami, almost desperate, but he couldn’t reach it, couldn’t touch it. It seemed cool, a frigid reality that walked hand-in-hand with the City. The thoughts were there, instantly reminding him of everything pre-City and now, what had happened to Rangiku, how’d he accidentally…
Tsuzuki blinked, picking up the flaring disturbance in the air, how Tatsumi’s fingers tightened around his arm as he led him away from the terrible device already rotting his brain, and he tried stopping it, pulling back and weighing the other shinigami down. But Tsuzuki knew Tatsumi wasn’t a fool, wouldn’t have been deterred with such a juvenile trick, and he allowed himself to be manhandled, afraid of what he felt, what was around him.
“T-Tatsumi, what…?” Even his voice sounded anxious, and…it wasn’t going to be pretty.
"I told you," was all Tatsumi said as he dragged him towards the sofas and threw him there. "Why don't you ever listen to me, Tsuzuki?"
The shadows followed their master, surrounding the two shinigami to prevent Tsuzuki from fleeing.
He ate a mouth full of cushions before he could even say anything, the couch far more unforgiving than it usually was, and he rolled around, fighting with some invisible opponent before flopping on the ground. Shaking it off quickly, Tsuzuki stared up at Tatsumi with a questioning look, emotions free in amethyst eyes.
“What are you…? Tatsumi, I…” He bit his lip, aware of what was coming. He just wasn’t sure he was ready for it.
"What did I tell you about last time? About not telling anyone else about us being shinigami?" Tatsumi paused, becoming suddenly aware of his rising voice. He continued in a quieter tone, "I was telling you, over and over again -- that man felt dangerous. Did you listen? You must think of it as a game. Just because that thing--" Tatsumi pointed at the abandoned computer. "--doesn't let you see actual people, hear them, doesn't mean you can freely divulge secrets like you just did! I've warned you over and over...."
Tatsumi let the sentence trail away. He didn't want to have to remind Tsuzuki again of Muraki.
It was a natural reaction to wince, visibly, rather quickly and with reflexes bringing his arms up and over his head, as if Tatsumi was going to hit him. And it was ridiculous, being afraid like this, but he could feel the other shinigami’s shadows, swirling closer and then away. Tatsumi was a formidable enemy when provoked, and Tsuzuki had done more than provoke. He’d ripped the hinges off the door.
“I know, but…I didn’t think it’d be so bad…Tatsumi….” Arms slowly lowering, he watched the other with relatively huge eyes, heart pounding.
"Like I said." Tatsumi's face hardened into a deep frown. "You didn't.... You don't think anything is bad until they're drawing blood from you, Tsuzuki." Muraki had been at the tip of his tongue again. Tatsumi wanted to say it again, to remind Tsuzuki where his foolishness had gotten him; asking death from his own shikigami. But Tatsumi held his tongue, keeping his tone quiet but deadly serious.
Why don't you ever listen to me? But you listen to Watari, to Kurosaki, to everyone but me.
This is about…I don’t know.
He’d almost voiced this confusion, still having trouble wondering why Tatsumi was so angry with him. So he’d made the smallest of slips. What of it? That didn’t necessarily mean they were going to be sought after, hunted, or threatened because he’d happened to mention being a shinigami. But Tatsumi was lecturing him, had dragged him away from the computer, thrown him on the couch…
Was Tatsumi afraid something bad would happen?
He immediately drew defensive.
“I…that’s not true! Tatsumi, I was just…” What had he been doing? Now, having Tatsumi face him like this, late in the night, Tsuzuki wasn’t so sure. Making friends sounded so ridiculous, and…
Looking up at Tatsumi, he swallowed. He was in so much trouble.
Tatsumi's eyes narrowed into slits, and his voice deepened, taking a dangerous tone, "You don't even remember, do you? Tsuzuki, do you remember what you got into trouble for before?" He purposely kept all mention of Muraki out again, but left it implied for Tsuzuki to hopefully pick up on his own. "I spoke with shinigami like Matsumoto-san, Tsuzuki. They're different from us. You may think this is nothing but I see the danger of.... announcing our abnormality. Our bodies have been modified, as you know. Enma knows what kind of hell that could get us into, Tsuzuki. There are... curious... people out there." People like Muraki. People who desire to hurt, who will wish for something to hurt without fearing for its fragility. People who want to inflict nothing but pain. "Why can't you ever understand that? Why can't you get it into your brain that strangers deserve to be treated with wariness? Instead, you throw yourself at everyone without any reservation at all while I stand here and worry and pick up the bloody pieces whenever you break down, unable to handle the stress you have forced yourself into!"
His mouth opened in lieu of immediate explanation, tongue moving to form the words he wanted to speak, but the sounds instantly died away at the shivering chime working over his soul. Tsuzuki instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the sharpest cold chill in existence wash over him as the hour struck midnight, turning over and over again in his mind the things Tatsumi had said. Was it really so wrong to be so…trusting? Why did the other think it so wrong to…
Tsuzuki shuddered as the noises continued, faint. Somehow, it rivaled that lonesome ticking, icy hot, and all he could do was stare up at Tatsumi, afraid, wondering about this feeling.
He’d felt it before. Hadn’t he…?
“Tatsumi, I’m…” He bit his lip. I’m sorry…
Tatsumi sighed and turned away, one hand rubbing at his forehead at the dull beginnings of a headache. "Nevermind," Tatsumi said defeatedly, knowing his friend would never understand his worry. He sighed again and muttered to himself with a bitter chuckle, "Sometimes, Tsuzuki, I wish... so that I wouldn't worry so much for you like I do... I wish I didn't have a heart..."
As soon as he'd finished the words, a sharp, blinding pain struck him in his chest. He let out a sharp cry and collapsed to his knees, clutching at his chest... where the heart should be...