sweetdeath | [09 || it was easier to type when the puppy thing was a metaphor]

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[09 || it was easier to type when the puppy thing was a metaphor]

...this is kind of a fun curse! Except I can't open the door. Or, you know. Work can openers. Let's not talk about what trying to cook would be like --

Uh, sorry, I'm not gonna make it in to work!

Tatsumi, you still human-shaped? I've got a bunch of gourmet leftovers in the freezer, and if you could get some out and reheat it for me you can share 'em for dinner. I forgot to leave a bowl of dog food out last night, see.

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Right.

[Tsuzuki considered his own options. He could just accept that Tatsumi wasn't going to say anything. Or he could push. Or he could bite the man's ankle.

Being a dog really widened his repertoire.]

[Fine. He'd keep on with the cooking, and Tsuzuki would just wait there. More chopping, more sizzling, more silence - then it came to the moment that he had waited for. The food finally thawed. He had already had two plates out - but was the second one necessary? Shrugging it off, he simply portioned it all out and then had one plate before Tsuzuki and one on the nearby table.]

Here - be careful not to scorch your tongue.

Thanks!

[All conversation after that was cut off by Tsuzuki diving enthusiastically onto the plate of food. It was hot, but not too hot to eat. At least, not if he ate quickly and didn't mind a few moments of scorched tongue before it healed. It had been almost a full day since he'd last eaten. Conversation (and ankle-nipping) could wait.]

[Of course, he had dutifully given Tsuzuki a larger portion, not simply as a courtesy. Keep him occupied, keep him from asking anything more. He could only stare briefly at the black-dog form chomping on that dinner - such tactless eating was even more pronounced - before he returned to his own. Not bad, perhaps a bit overpriced, but what restaurant wasn't, really?

Once more, he looked to Tsuzuki. Why did it matter to him? No, he knew the answer - quickly did he shove that out from his mind.]

[One advantage of eating like a dog; it didn't take Tsuzuki long to make his way through the plate of leftovers. Licking his lips, he glanced up at Tatsumi. The other man's stubbornness was one thing - after a couple of decades, anyone could've figured out that wasn't going to change. Frankly, though, Tsuzuki thought it was past time Tatsumi have a life outside of work. They were friends, weren't they? And the younger man really was going to drive himself into a case of ulcers or possibly a nervous breakdown one of these years.

Besides, maybe it'd make him lighten up about paperwork deadlines and expense accounts.]

Thanks! That was good.

I'm glad you liked it.

[Strangely, his own appetite had decreased, but there was that nagging sensation in the back of his mind. Waste not, want not. It was just a small portion of it, and doggedly he swallowed it down. At the least, it wasn't Tsuzuki's own cooking. There was one advantage to clearing the plates, he noticed as he lifted Tsuzuki's bone-dry plate - it bought more time. He was certain to have more questions his way.]

[Tsuzuki heaved himself back to his feet, trotting after Tatsumi. If questioning wasn't going to make the man start talking, maybe being shadowed would. Now this, he had to admit, would have worked better without the dog curse. He'd just have to figure something out to replace the look of sadness and concern...]

[The domestic act of washing the dishes clean was something that seemed to soothe more than irritate - but then there was that black dog at his side, hovering like he knew would happen. But he could ignore it for a short time, anyway.]

Is there something else you'd like, Tsuzuki-san?

[Tsuzuki licked his lips. A glass of wine, maybe? But not knowing what kind of tolerance an eighty-pound dog had, he probably shouldn't.]

That's fine.

[He sat down again, regarding Tatsumi.]

...so are you going to answer my questions?

What questions?

[Sure, it was mildly childish, but the subject wasn't one that had to be discussed. He had the vague craving for tea, and it provided a good cover to shuffle about more in the kitchen.]

[Tsuzuki eyed the other man.]

What has you so tense, what's wrong between you and Watari, and why do you keep lying about it?

[Well, he hadn't technically asked the last question earlier... and knowing Tatsumi, he knew the answer already. Maybe pounding home the fact that he knew what those lies and evasions were would convince Tatsumi to knock it off, though.]

[There they were - questions even he didn't examine, and for good reason. Tsuzuki was a bit too brash considering the topic, but perhaps he had his own reasons. No, he did have those reasons, and he knew what they were. It wasn't grounds for further inquiry, however. So he averted Tsuzuki's stare, keeping to the dishes he now was drying.]

You already know the story.

[Tsuzuki nudged Tatsumi's leg with his nose, meaning reassurance this time instead of prodding. Knowing the story wasn't going to help them resolve it.]

...So, how about the second and third questions?

[Now he had no choice but to look at Tsuzuki sternly, even if there was an unplanned measure of uncertainty there. Tsuzuki couldn't understand the value of "no comment", could he?]

What more is there to say? He and I are just fine.

[Tsuzuki raised his head to meet Tatsumi's gaze squarely, serious for once.]

That's why you won't even talk about each other?

It's a bit awkward, but it will be fine.

[He could see that serious stare, even if it was coming from a dog instead of the usual form. And, well, it would be fine. It pretty much was already... wasn't it?]

You've made it into more of a bad situation than it is.

[Tsuzuki hesitated, lowering his eyes first. Maybe Tatsumi was right, and he was just blowing up the awkwardness into something it wasn't. Maybe he was just looking for something he could help with. He sighed, flopping down to lie on the floor and resting his head on his paws. His track record hadn't been good these last few months. He hadn't remembered being here before, hadn't been able to find Muraki, hadn't even realized right away when Hisoka left the city. Even compared to his usual record... not good.]

[There was that self-doubt flickering in Tsuzuki's mind. He didn't even need to see it on his face - it was as though Tatsumi had a distinct sixth sense about it. He knelt down, a soft and consoling smile meeting the canine look of doubt.]

I know you want to help - it's okay, though.

[He petted Tsuzuki quickly on the head, easily using the excuse that he was a dog for the moment for the otherwise inappropriate action. Then he rose and moved again to search for that elusive tea, hiding a mild grimace from Tsuzuki's all-too-perceptive stare.]

At least, it will be okay if he'll stop being so stubborn...

[Tsuzuki's relieved chuckle came out as a yip; he hopped back up, pacing Tatsumi's steps. The grimace escaped his eyes, though. All he could see from his angle was the underside of Tatsumi's chin.]

If you're looking for the tea, it's up on the top shelf in the cabinet left of the stove.

[Tilting his head to the side, he thought for a moment. What was Watari being stubborn about? Was there really anything he could do? ...Would Tatsumi tell him even if there was?

He knew the answer to the last one.]

Hey, Tatsumi, if you're going to pet me, the fur on the back of my neck really itches and I can't reach it with my claws.

Ah.

[At least Tsuzuki's help was useful. The tea in his hands, he looked once more to the black dog that substituted for his colleague.]

A scratch?

[He sighed, setting the tea down on the nearest counter. Well, if it would distract him.... So he knelt again and scratched right at the back of his neck. In some ways, it was easier to deal with Tsuzuki when he was a dog.]

[Tsuzuki leaned into Tatsumi's hand, eyes squeezing shut. His neck really had been itchy, and (surprisingly for someone whose idea of a pet was a piggy bank) Tatsumi was pretty good at scratching fur. His tail thumped against the floor of its own accord.]

...Ooh, right there, thanks.

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[09 || it was easier to type when the puppy thing was a metaphor]

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