Tsuzuki entered the room that now served as a shrine of sorts for Muraki‘s corpse. The late doctor’s possessions remained. The medical student who examined him had barely touched the body, let alone done an actual autopsy.
“Even dead you command respect.” Tsuzuki chuckled.
He came to the table holding the porcelain doll with its blonde ringlets and glassy stare. He considered tucking it in bed with Muraki, but the doctor wouldn’t want bloodstains on the pretty dress. Perhaps he would take the doll when he left as a memento.
Muraki’s body lay under a curtain of red roses; his white suit was soaked with blood.
“You look uncomfortable in your clothes. Did you go to bed wearing them, or were you up late working? I refuse to believe you don’t have any pajamas. Bet you have adorable fuzzy ones all over with kittens or lambs.”
Tsuzuki sat on the bed and clasped one large elegant hand, ignoring the coldness. “I'll wash and redress you in the morning. A white suit I think, for a change." Tsuzuki winked. He stroked the cold hand.
"Hisoka would be angry and worried if he knew I was here, so let’s keep it between us, shall we? What you did to him was disgusting, but no longer my business. You’ll be judged as we all are, and you’re not hurting him now, at least not directly.”
He lifted a rose and brought it to his face to inhale its sweetness. On a whim, he dragged the flower across Muraki’s face to pretend he was sharing the experience.
“Did you have something like this in mind for us, Kazutaka? I was scared when we played cards, but excited. It would have been difficult to go back to being enemies after we had sex together, though.
"I don’t know what sort of eulogy you would have wanted, but I doubt that anyone else would give you one anyway. For all that Tsubaki claims to love you, she’s terrified of death. She screamed when she saw you and even fainted. I think you would have liked that. Maybe even found it amusing. She’s too young to understand that love isn’t kindness, and that life is only good, because it ends.
"But your eulogy. You were intelligent and passionate. You challenged me with every meeting. You were harsh with people, but gentle enough to care for your porcelain dolls. Now that you’re dead, I can forgive you everything. We'll have our night together after all.”
Tsuzuki undressed and slipped into bed in his boxers. He curled up against Muraki’s body, and pressed a kiss to one pale cheek.
“You look restful, Kazutaka.” He murmured, gently stroking Muraki’s platinum blonde hair.
He closed his eyes and relaxed. Yes, he would take the doll. Without physical reference points memories faded and meshed. He didn't want to forget Muraki Kazutaka. He settled into a restful sleep.
Beside him on the bed a hand twitched, and then came to rest on his bare shoulder.
END