Nightshift 49: Doctor's Office 3 [Dr. Kisugi]
[From here]"Fierfek," 622 cursed softly as he stepped through the door, sighing. There wasn't any reason to try and hold the door to head back, it wouldn't help them. Instead of a corridor, they'd just stepped through into one of the doctor's offices. It was better than being dropped right into a crowd of hostiles, that was for sure, but still, it
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Enormous bone-white columns rose all around them, but he could neither see nor hear the faintest trace of life. It looked like a government building of some kind, the sort of place that could never be big enough to house the egos of the small men inside. Yet, there was an undeniable elegance to it, something naggingly familiar - something wrong.
Could he be more of a fool? Too late, he forced his attention back to the shinigami.
"...What?"
Only to find he had been entirely forgotten. As Grell observed their new surroundings, Muraki observed Grell. His clothing had changed to something more suited to his station, if not his personality, but clearly that wasn't the only reason for his distress. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. This place was...
"...punish me for being away already!" Running off like a naughty child? Why betray the rules when he was so bored with what it accomplished? He clearly wasn't unhappy to be home. That, however, might have much to do with whoever this William was. Right now, he had concerns that were more pressing than a masochistic shinigami and his torrid love affairs. (Which was, admittedly, a little unusual for him.)
His hand slid from his collar to the side of his neck unconsciously, feeling for the warm, quickening pulse beneath his skin. Muraki almost laughed. Getting into Meifu alive had taken a great deal of work that the shinigami could never begin to appreciate. This little display of power was, in a word, impossible. A deception, then?
It was too bad his own dealings inside the Bureau had been so limited. He brushed his fingers against a pillar as he passed. To his human senses, it was cool and real. If it was an illusion, it was well crafted and, more importantly, accurate enough to fool a shinigami who belonged here. He would have slipped off on his own, but there was no telling if the first door he tried would become a portal into something worse than an empty afterlife. Might as well let the shinigami worry about that first.
He let Grell stalk off ahead shrieking, and started after him at an even pace.
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He whipped around suddenly and eyed the man behind him. Pulse, heartbeat, blood, very much a mortal and very much capable of being killed, but with a hint of difference, something off and something Grell could now sense very keenly without a single throb of the headache he'd been feeling all night. His powers were back in full force as if he'd been outright reinstated into the Bureau without so much as a slap on the wrist. Grell set the borrowed chainsaw on the ground and looked at his right hand for a moment.
It was here. His baby. His darling he'd worked so hard on. She was with him again. It didn't take much to pull her out and with a (possibly unnecessary) flourish the red and gold chainsaw sat lightly in his hands. "Well...this is unexpected. Home, but not home. With all my powers back and a little tagalong." Grell grinned wide, no longer afraid of flashing Muraki his sharklike teeth. "What do you think, dear? You're in the one place mortals are never allowed to be."
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How human it was, this desperate clutching at life. And he had thought all of his humanity long forfeit. Ha. Oh, this was rich. Had he been angry? Had he been afraid? Of what? Leaving this empty in-between place?
How had he forgotten? It wasn't about what you had. It was about what you could take and take and take.
"What do I think?" Muraki repeated, a quiet chuckle rising to the surface. "It could use a little... Well, 'life' is the wrong word, isn't it, my dear? The last time I was here, the place was simply," He smiled, sharp and fine. "Chaos."
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Although...something Muraki said was obviously wrong. There was no way he could have come here of all places. The death gods would have killed him instantly for intruding and Grell would most certainly remember. He would have joined the fray in an instant, all too ready to spill blood for whatever reason. Humans weren't allowed here, no matter what sort of power they had.
And Muraki was most definitely human, even if he had some fairly interesting powers.
"You must have visited a different branch, Kazuchi. Mortals don't dare tread here." William and the other supervisors would have thrown a royal fit. Of course, seeing William mad would have been absolutely delicious, but then he likely would have found some way to blame the intrusion on Grell being lax on duty. Which was a total lie! Grell was very good at his job. He was just sometimes a little too...enthusiastic about it. "And it's normally not this..."
Turning to the side, he clicked his tongue quietly in disapproval and then picked up the other chainsaw. "Quiet. Take this, will you? I'd hate to lose it." Flipping the thing around, he held the handle out to Muraki and smiled. "Try to use it on me, and I'll rip your soul out from your body before you can blink. Just a warning."
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"What branch is this? I'll have to take your word on the management. They may have been much more competent... Before everyone vanished, anyway. It's a shame no one came out to welcome you home. I wonder what you did to deserve it."
And what, now he was a baggage mule too? Shinigami. Really. Muraki accepted the chainsaw with a laugh, though Grell would never appreciate the irony of his threat. Muraki almost pitied him. No matter what he chose to do, he would end up empty-handed and alone.
"Already expecting the worst of me?" He asked, testing the weight idly. It might not be his first choice, but a weapon was a weapon. When things became difficult, it never hurt to diversify his skills. "I didn't step out of a bad slasher film. Rest assured, my lady, I wouldn't dream of using this on you."
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"London. And yes, they're quite strict on the rules and such. A bit too much sometimes what with 'file this, sign that' and doing everything in tripli--" Grell stopped midrant and leveled an unamused gaze at Muraki. Ha ha, funny. He wasn't really expecting a welcome after what he did, more like a severe beating from William and the feeling of his head being stomped into the marble flooring, but to have a mortal say that this emptiness was his fault? Hardly. There was no way Grell would do this. While he often complained about work, that didn't mean he didn't love it. What was a death god without all this, right?
Something was wrong and that just meant Grell needed to find out what. "Kazuchi...how cruel of you. As if I would turn on my fellows like that!" Only if said fellows were mortal and capable of being killed. He rather liked most of his coworkers. "And after getting a peek at what you are? I'm afraid the worst is exactly what to expect out of you."
Like his bad taste. Grell turned and stomped his foot, waving his chainsaw at Muraki. "BUT DON'T INSULT HER." Well, the other one was okay to insult as it was inferior, but his chainsaw? He clutched it to his chest and stuck his tongue out at Muraki. "She's perfect in every way. Customized to fit my hand and to sing with the perfect harmony with every soul I reap. Those old scythes are ugly and outdated. This is the future!"
Turning, he stalked off for a few feet, then stopped again and tilted his head toward one of the doors leading out of the lobby. No sound here either. "Hn...but you're right in a way. Everyone has vanished." Which was never supposed to happen. He continued onward through the lobby, heading off into a side hall. "Let's head on, shall we? Coming home means nothing if I can't at least find someone to speak with."
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Muraki met his gaze, his own amusement making up for Grell's lack thereof. "In that case, perhaps they've turned their backs on you. But it doesn't really matter now, does it?" The place would remain empty, it seemed, no matter what transpired between the two of them. If a living, breathing mortal wasn't enough to draw a shinigami out of Meifu, nothing was. At the insult, he placed his free hand against his heart. "In that case, I'll try not to disappoint."
Grell was almost to ridiculous to be taken as a serious threat. While he waved his chainsaw, the doctor watched impassively, resisting the urge to ask if Grell would like to be left alone with his 'scythe'. The English were strange to say the least. He waited, tapping his fingers patiently against his hip while the shinigami stomped off a few steps -- and abruptly lost steam.
The doctor shrugged and followed after him. It wasn't as if he had anywhere else to go. "In other words, coming home means nothing."
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Stopping in front of a door that would lead to the offices, Grell sighed and tapped the chainsaw against his shoulder. Muraki was right. Without the people here, there was no meaning to returning home. Even if he had his powers back and no longer had to muck through the mortal coil, there was just no fun in being here without anything to do. No work to flounce from, no Will to tease, nothing but silence and empty hallways and a mortal who shouldn't exist being here.
As he thought of that, he felt his anger rising and Grell pulled the chainsaw off his shoulder. There was no way this entire place was empty! Someone had to be here and all he had to do was draw them out! And the best way to do that?
With a quick pull, the chainsaw roared to life and Grell slashed as the doors in front of him, the blade biting into the thick wood, sending a shower of splinters everywhere. The door couldn't hold under the power of a deathscythe and as he cut through it, Grell kicked the thing in. "Come out wherever you are~! I'm back, darlings~! Did you miss me?"
The door fell in and Grell smirked wide, swinging the chainsaw like a purse as he walked through the doors and promptly felt darkness overtake him.
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