[The story isn’t really about a lake by the sea. Its referring to a title of one of the kkj chapters, “a fish swimming in a forest lake.” A fish that swims in a lake by the sea always looks to the sea as a symbol of freedom. However, if the fish enters the sea, the salt water will kill it, yet it cannot help be desire to be free. I’m not sure if that was what kkj was referring to though... Originally, this was going to be a big hunk of a one-shot. But, guess not. The title will make more sense in the next chapter... I hope...]
Revised! I’m not dead, really I’m not! I have been, sort of dead though. Erosion will come back eventually! I have that on a back up cd somewhere, my old computer crashed. Ack! I’m so sorry about that.
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A Lake by the Sea
by rubie
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[ concession - \Con*ces"sion\, n. [L. concessio, fr. concedere: cf. F. concession. See Concede.] 1. The act of conceding or yielding; usually implying a demand, claim, or request, and thus distinguished from giving, which is voluntary or spontaneous.
2. A thing yielded; an acknowledgment or admission. ]
The door opened on oiled hinges, and a blast of air conditioned air met his face. Hisoka paused, drawing a deep breath. The distinct scent of coffee clung to the air, mixed with the aroma of freshly baked donuts. Strange, he had never taken the time to notice before.
He padded soundlessly down the hall, keeping a hand on the wall. He didn’t need to worry though; the building was practically empty at that time of the day. Everyone was either in offices or on assignment.
The wall was smooth from its thick coat of paint. Hisoka could feel the gentle bumps and rises brush against his fingertips lightly, before his knuckles hit a block. A door frame. He stepped past it, mentally counting.
The fifth door was different: longer, grainier, sturdier. Hisoka could feel the presence of the people inside, a mass of emotions so muddled that he hesitated depicturing them. His hand found the smooth ring of metal. Giving it a sharp twist, he pushed open the heavy door. Voices drifted to his ears immediately, and Hisoka could pick out Watari’s cheerful draw entwined with Tsuzuki’s polite murmurs. His partner had changed through the past month, Hisoka noted ruefully. The occupants had not noticed him. Drawing a deep breath, he spoke softly into the crowded office.
“I’m going to retire.”
Abruptly, all voices silenced. Sharp eyes fixed themselves on the pale figure standing timidly by the stained oak doors. Konoe paused in surprise, folders slipping out of his hand to scatter papers across the floor. Tatsumi frowned, lips setting in a grim, demurring line. Tsuzuki froze, midway through an morning snack, staring at the frail boy in disbelief. Hisoka moved slowly into the office with a hand against the wall to guide his steps, sensing the disapproval thick in the room.
“Hisoka?” Tsuzuki whispered, snack forgotten as he shoved the plate aside. He stood hurriedly, disturbing the papers scattered across the desk. Silky white sheets fluttered lifelessly down. “Weren’t you suppose to be at home?”
Hisoka didn’t turn to him at all, his shoulders squared and his head held high. “I’m going to retire,” he repeated with more clarity.
“You’re serious?” Konoe asked, gaze fixed on the young man… still very much a boy.
Hisoka nodded without hesitation, as if he had spent hours before fighting himself, and victory was already firmly set in his mind. Tsuzuki paled, jerking abruptly as if he wanted to run forward but stopping himself at the last minute. He stared at Hisoka with stunned and incredulous eyes.
Silence again reclaimed the room, but the boy stood firm. Soft light filtered through the windows lazily, painting the whitewashed walls in smooth streaks. A breeze pulled sakura branches away from the bay windows of the Enmacho office, the morning sun drenched the room for a blinding minute. A glaring white settled on the pale boy, but his eyes registered the light with indifference. The room remained deathly still.
Watari exhaled sharply. “No way! You can’t do that. You’re giving up so suddenly.”
“I’m not giving up!” Hisoka snapped defensively, some of his rebelliousness returning at the accusation. He ran a hand over his emerald eyes in an action that seemed angry and weary at the same time, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I’m just accepting the truth. I’ve tried. You tried. And in the end, it brought us nowhere. I’ve been running in circles.”
“Hisoka, you can’t…” Tsuzuki began in a tone that was tight with anxiety. His voice sank into silence, the sentence hanging unspoken.
“Please reconsider, Kurosaki-san,” Tatsumi insisted. “I’m sure you’ll recover, just as Watari-san said.”
The boy shook his head, turning towards the sound of the older man’s voice. His jade eyes were glazed and unfocused, but lacked the uncertainty that resided there days before. “I thought about it a lot, and I don’t think I should stay. I haven’t been taking any assignments. I’ve been receiving pay that I don’t deserve. Everyone’s been constantly making concessions for me. I’ve been getting in everybody’s way. And...”
“That’s not true,” Tsuzuki forcefully interrupted, striding forward jerkily at Hisoka’s harsh words. Impulsively, he grasped the boy’s arm, but Hisoka reeled back so sharply that Tsuzuki flinched. But his grip didn’t falter on Hisoka’s thin shoulder. “We need you here. You’re my partner. What am I going to do if you leave?”
“You’ll find a partner that’s better than me. I’m not going to be very useful like this,” Hisoka stated simply. He pried blindly at Tsuzuki’s hand in an attempt to free his arm, but the older man’s grip only tightened even more.
“I don’t care,” Tsuzuki grimaced in frustration. “You’re my partner. You’ve been my partner for almost two years. You can’t just leave.”
He grasped Hisoka’s shoulder firmly, shaking the boy as if desperately forcing reason into his mind. His frantic expression betrayed how much Hisoka's annoucement had affected him, but the younger man was impassive.
“I can’t. I don’t have another option,” Hisoka whispered. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“Please, don’t," Tsuzuki continued, almost pleading as he stared at Hisoka. "I know this is my fault. I’m so sorry it happened, I should have been more careful. I’m so sorry you got hurt because of me. Hisoka. I wish I was the one hurt, not you. You didn't deserve it. Hisoka, please don't…”
Hisoka stiffened, tensing uncomfortably from the pain that he knew must have been in the older man’s gaze. Tsuzuki’s hand was trembling on his shoulder, the grasp so firm his hand was beginning to numb. Tentatively, Hisoka brushed his fingers lightly over Tsuzuki’s hand and pried his own arm free.
End of teaser
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Rewritten. Sorry for the very, very long delay. My muse died on me, so… umm… yeah. Plus, with college apps and SAT II's, it's been a pain.
This story is being revised though! Hopefully, it reads more smoothly. Tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is great.
