[Yami no Matsuei] "When Enemies Call a Peace" (PG)
Author's Note: Written for 
fic_promptly's Author's choice, author's choice, liquid courage and < lj user="adventchallenge">'s "ceasefire" Mild weirdness and Muraki being his politely bawdy self.
It wasn't a dive bar nor was it a swanky place where you needed to wear a suit and tie (or at least one that didn't look slept-in). It was the kind of bar Tsuzuki felt at ease in and he gravitated to this one in particular, whenever a case brought him to Tokorozawa City, a regular neighborhood bar where the barkeep took the time to get to know his customers and knew them all by their first name, where the hostess was chatty and friendly, just forward enough to warm Tsuzuki under his collar, but not so forward that he started getting warm in other places.
It was the kind of place Tsuzuki sought out when an especially hard case had left his soul aching and his mind and senses in need of some liquid comfort, to take the edge off the pain prickling in his soul. This night was one of those times: he had just come away from escorting a young girl across the divide between the mortal world and the realm of the dead, a young shopgirl overwhelmed by her work load at this time of the year, and by life itself.
It was not the sort of place where he expected to see, out of the corner of his eye, a tall, pale figure clad in a heavy white overcoat with a thick grey fur collar, entering the bar, brushing snow off his shoulders before removing his grey leather gloves. Tsuzuki tried to scooch down on his seat, but the intruder had already spotted him and approached, seating himself on the empty stool next to Tsuzuki.
"I'll have what the handsome young gent to my right is having," Muraki said, eying the white porcelain cup on the bartop before Tsuzuki. The barkeep nodded and reached for a bottle of sake, setting to work warming it.
"Drowning your sorrows in sake, or are you getting up the courage to seek some pleasurable company for the night?" Muraki asked.
Tsuzuki darted a glare at him. "Go away, Muraki," he growled. "It's none of your business why I'm here."
"Mmm, I'm sensing the former," Muraki mused. "Or is it another option? Is there a specific someone whom you're fond of, and you're lubricating your will before asking them to spend the night with you?"
"It's nothing like that! Go away and let me drink in peace," Tsuzuki growled.
The barkeep looked Tsuzuki's way. "This guy hassling you?" he asked.
Before Tsuzuki could reply, Muraki interposed. "We are old friends reconnecting, though I might add, we did not part on the best of terms, the last time that we spoke."
The barkeep nodded, but his eyes still looked suspicious. "All right: you need anything, you holler," he said, before moving on.
"That was a lie and you know it," Tsuzuki muttered.
"Having a good enemy is the next best thing to having a good friend," Muraki replied, lightly. Then his pale face grew serious, as he lifted his gaze to the holly garland festooned along the shelves of bottles and glasses behind the bar. "But it is a good time of the year for reconciliation and renewing connections, friendly or otherwise."
"What are you getting at?" Tsuzuki demanded, as the barkeep returned to refill his cup and to set a fresh cup before Muraki, leaving a heavy porcelain flask before them.
Muraki waited till the barkeep had moved on before replying. "I mean the connection between us, you and I," he replied, taking up Tsuzuki's cup and turning it several times before taking a sip from it. Clearly he had been trying to find the place where Tsuzuki's lips had touched the cup. "Like it or not, there is a strong tie between us. You were my grandfather's patient for eight years. I saw your face for the first time when I was a young man of twelve. You were my first love and for the past ten years, I have spent much of my energy trying to find you or keeping watch over you."
Creepy... Tsuzuki thought. Out loud, he said, "Oh yeah? Don't think that keeping watch doesn't work the other way, too." He pulled his cup away. "The Public Security Section is keeping tabs on you, even as we speak," he added, dead serious.
Muraki raised an eyebrow. "Even at this time of the year? It is Christmas, after all, a time of peace on earth toward men of good will."
"Not that there's any good will about you," Tsuzuki growled.
Muraki smirked. "Come, have there been any reports of me harrying anyone lately? I have been trying to keep to the straight and narrow, at least for this season. But it's hard when you're someone like me, whose life depends upon the lives of others." His pale face grew thoughtful for the first time since he had sat down. Tsuzuki noted this, that the other man's lean face looked more drawn than usual and his waistcoat looked slack when it usually fitted his trim figure neatly.
"Why are you telling me all this?" Tsuzuki asked, tiredly.
"I'm telling you all this because I would like to propose a ceasefire between you and I," Muraki said. "I give you my word, call off the watchers till Epiphany, and I shall harm no one."
"And how will we know that you've kept your end of the bargain?" Tsuzuki asked, skeptically.
"You won't find any evidence of my misdeeds: no souls will cross the barrier because of me."
"You expect us to believe that? You're good at erasing your tracks."
"There is an alternative: You could always come to my home and keep watch over me," Muraki said, his smirk returning.
"Oh yeah? And then you'd just decide to mess with *me*," Tsuzuki growled.
"Only if you want me to mess with you," Muraki added. Serious once again, he added, "I shall keep my hands in my pockets as part of the arrangement."
"It's not that easy: getting that kind of time off is a nightmare of paperwork," Tsuzuki sighed.
"So, perhaps you could tell them that you are dealing with a special case," Muraki replied, casually.
"I suppose I could tell my boss that, but I wonder if he'll even buy that," Tsuzuki replied, skeptical himself. "But you're serious: you won't harm anyone, me included?"
"It will be a challenge, yet a noble one. If you stay close to me, I shall be tempted -- your face was made for caresses -- but I think that I can manage to fulfill my promise."
"You'd better do more than think it," Tsuzuki replied, signaling to the barkeep for his tab.
"Like Ebeneezer Scrooge at the end of the book, I shall be true to my word," Muraki promised, reaching into his breast pocket for his checkbook. "Allow me to do the honors?"
"As long as you don't think that means you've got a license to mess with me later," Tsuzuki replied.
"You have my word," Muraki said, raising one hand as if swearing an oath.
fic_promptly's Author's choice, author's choice, liquid courage and < lj user="adventchallenge">'s "ceasefire" Mild weirdness and Muraki being his politely bawdy self.
It wasn't a dive bar nor was it a swanky place where you needed to wear a suit and tie (or at least one that didn't look slept-in). It was the kind of bar Tsuzuki felt at ease in and he gravitated to this one in particular, whenever a case brought him to Tokorozawa City, a regular neighborhood bar where the barkeep took the time to get to know his customers and knew them all by their first name, where the hostess was chatty and friendly, just forward enough to warm Tsuzuki under his collar, but not so forward that he started getting warm in other places.
It was the kind of place Tsuzuki sought out when an especially hard case had left his soul aching and his mind and senses in need of some liquid comfort, to take the edge off the pain prickling in his soul. This night was one of those times: he had just come away from escorting a young girl across the divide between the mortal world and the realm of the dead, a young shopgirl overwhelmed by her work load at this time of the year, and by life itself.
It was not the sort of place where he expected to see, out of the corner of his eye, a tall, pale figure clad in a heavy white overcoat with a thick grey fur collar, entering the bar, brushing snow off his shoulders before removing his grey leather gloves. Tsuzuki tried to scooch down on his seat, but the intruder had already spotted him and approached, seating himself on the empty stool next to Tsuzuki.
"I'll have what the handsome young gent to my right is having," Muraki said, eying the white porcelain cup on the bartop before Tsuzuki. The barkeep nodded and reached for a bottle of sake, setting to work warming it.
"Drowning your sorrows in sake, or are you getting up the courage to seek some pleasurable company for the night?" Muraki asked.
Tsuzuki darted a glare at him. "Go away, Muraki," he growled. "It's none of your business why I'm here."
"Mmm, I'm sensing the former," Muraki mused. "Or is it another option? Is there a specific someone whom you're fond of, and you're lubricating your will before asking them to spend the night with you?"
"It's nothing like that! Go away and let me drink in peace," Tsuzuki growled.
The barkeep looked Tsuzuki's way. "This guy hassling you?" he asked.
Before Tsuzuki could reply, Muraki interposed. "We are old friends reconnecting, though I might add, we did not part on the best of terms, the last time that we spoke."
The barkeep nodded, but his eyes still looked suspicious. "All right: you need anything, you holler," he said, before moving on.
"That was a lie and you know it," Tsuzuki muttered.
"Having a good enemy is the next best thing to having a good friend," Muraki replied, lightly. Then his pale face grew serious, as he lifted his gaze to the holly garland festooned along the shelves of bottles and glasses behind the bar. "But it is a good time of the year for reconciliation and renewing connections, friendly or otherwise."
"What are you getting at?" Tsuzuki demanded, as the barkeep returned to refill his cup and to set a fresh cup before Muraki, leaving a heavy porcelain flask before them.
Muraki waited till the barkeep had moved on before replying. "I mean the connection between us, you and I," he replied, taking up Tsuzuki's cup and turning it several times before taking a sip from it. Clearly he had been trying to find the place where Tsuzuki's lips had touched the cup. "Like it or not, there is a strong tie between us. You were my grandfather's patient for eight years. I saw your face for the first time when I was a young man of twelve. You were my first love and for the past ten years, I have spent much of my energy trying to find you or keeping watch over you."
Creepy... Tsuzuki thought. Out loud, he said, "Oh yeah? Don't think that keeping watch doesn't work the other way, too." He pulled his cup away. "The Public Security Section is keeping tabs on you, even as we speak," he added, dead serious.
Muraki raised an eyebrow. "Even at this time of the year? It is Christmas, after all, a time of peace on earth toward men of good will."
"Not that there's any good will about you," Tsuzuki growled.
Muraki smirked. "Come, have there been any reports of me harrying anyone lately? I have been trying to keep to the straight and narrow, at least for this season. But it's hard when you're someone like me, whose life depends upon the lives of others." His pale face grew thoughtful for the first time since he had sat down. Tsuzuki noted this, that the other man's lean face looked more drawn than usual and his waistcoat looked slack when it usually fitted his trim figure neatly.
"Why are you telling me all this?" Tsuzuki asked, tiredly.
"I'm telling you all this because I would like to propose a ceasefire between you and I," Muraki said. "I give you my word, call off the watchers till Epiphany, and I shall harm no one."
"And how will we know that you've kept your end of the bargain?" Tsuzuki asked, skeptically.
"You won't find any evidence of my misdeeds: no souls will cross the barrier because of me."
"You expect us to believe that? You're good at erasing your tracks."
"There is an alternative: You could always come to my home and keep watch over me," Muraki said, his smirk returning.
"Oh yeah? And then you'd just decide to mess with *me*," Tsuzuki growled.
"Only if you want me to mess with you," Muraki added. Serious once again, he added, "I shall keep my hands in my pockets as part of the arrangement."
"It's not that easy: getting that kind of time off is a nightmare of paperwork," Tsuzuki sighed.
"So, perhaps you could tell them that you are dealing with a special case," Muraki replied, casually.
"I suppose I could tell my boss that, but I wonder if he'll even buy that," Tsuzuki replied, skeptical himself. "But you're serious: you won't harm anyone, me included?"
"It will be a challenge, yet a noble one. If you stay close to me, I shall be tempted -- your face was made for caresses -- but I think that I can manage to fulfill my promise."
"You'd better do more than think it," Tsuzuki replied, signaling to the barkeep for his tab.
"Like Ebeneezer Scrooge at the end of the book, I shall be true to my word," Muraki promised, reaching into his breast pocket for his checkbook. "Allow me to do the honors?"
"As long as you don't think that means you've got a license to mess with me later," Tsuzuki replied.
"You have my word," Muraki said, raising one hand as if swearing an oath.