Title: Crooked Smile
Fandom: Yami no Matsuei
Pairing: Hinted Tsuzuki/Hisoka
Rating: PG for dark-ish themes
Genre: Certainly angsty.  A little dark.
Summary: Hisoka broods over his real feelings for Tsuzuki's false ones in the middle of a park.
Notes: This is the first fic that I've finished in the longest time, and even though it's merely a oneshot, I'm just proud that I finished something again.  This fic was requested by kohakutenshi on LJ, who demanded these themes: Hisoka watching someone, with rain and the color green implemented.  And I'll have you know I wrote this damn thing by candle light.  Thanks goes to tammaiya on LJ for unintentionally inspiring my writing urge again with her latest piece of fiction as well as beta reading it.  She gets the uber heartage.

I'd also actually prefer any review to go here, JUST because I like collecting them all in one place.

If you're too lazy though, go right ahead and just comment here.  Thank you for any reviews in advance.

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You don’t seem to be aware of my existence.  You’re ten meters away, and I’m not even here.

You really can’t help it, though.  Despite all of your powers, and despite how much stronger than me you are, you don’t have the gift or curse of Empathy.

Oh, you have empathy.  But not Empathy.  They are distinctly different, because one is normal and human, while the other is chaotic and monstrous.  You’ve asked me if you’re human, but you have some of the most human emotions I’ve ever seen.  More normal and intense than most humans.  It's just that you only express them when you’re backed into a corner and feel like you have no choice.

I know if I was lying there right now, with anybody standing close to me and thinking the thoughts that I’m thinking right now, my dreams would be troubled.  I wouldn’t be laying still like that.

…If I ever lay still while sleeping.  Do I?  I’m afraid if you have ever watched me, then I haven’t.

Even if no one were watching me, though, I could not imagine myself sleeping like that.

You’re in the middle of a park, damnit.  Doesn’t the way the sun speckles down on your face through the tree branches bother you and make you cringe?  What about the way a person occasionally walks by, glancing at you and wondering if you’re homeless?  Are bugs crawling on you right now?  I don’t think I would like sleeping with bugs crawling on me.  Not to mention the fact that this grass is prickly.  I’m resting my hands on it now, and it’s not very comfortable.  Green, so green.

Not the grass.  My jealousy.  You have no idea.

I hate you for all the things you can do.  Especially these silly little things, like napping beneath a tree.  I hate the way you can burst out laughing at just about anything, or how you can consume sweets with the stupidest expression I’ve ever laid eyes upon.

But I’m not stupid.  I’m not jealous because I think you’re happy.

I’m so jealous that you can do all of that while hurting.  You can ruffle my hair and grin, and I can feel my heart breaking from the hatred and pity.  Pity.  How dare you invoke such a disgusting emotion.

When you wake up, you’re probably going to whine about me being late for our meeting here, but then you’ll probably get excited about something.  Anything.

I’m an hour late for God’s sake.  Yell at me, why don’t you?  I only remember one real time that you expressed your anger.  So intense, and so raw, and so painful.  So REAL.  Why can’t you do it again?

I can’t hate you for not sharing your secrets with me.  After all, I’m guilty of the same crime.  But at least I don’t go so far to pretend.  You always know when I’m angry or depressed.  You just don’t know why.

And even if you hide it, I can tell when you are angry or depressed.  I just can never tell when you’re truly happy.  You smile so much that I’m getting comfortable with it.  I’m afraid that I’ll reach the point where soon that smile of yours will begin to fool me.

I wonder if that’s when I’ll stop hating you.  Start loving you.

The rain’s starting to fall now.  I hate sun showers.  They’re depressing.  They just butt into your sunny day and get your clothes all wet.

I hate wet clothes.  Have you ever tried to peel off wet jeans?

I know I’m smirking when you wake up with a mouthful of water, gagging and coughing.  It’s not until you scramble up and cling to the tree trunk for salvation that you notice me.  Could you sense me?  Or was it not until you saw me staring at you through the rain?

You call my name.  Surprised?  Did you think I would never show?  That I’d forgotten you?  You’re so dense that it causes me pain.

I consider just walking away as you walk towards me and the awning I'm under, but I don’t want to walk in the rain right now.

Wet jeans and all.

So I just stand up, not amused as you try to scold me for being late but end up failing as it turns into a ramble about tiny little birds that you saw hippity-hopping earlier.  I knew that’s what would happen.  I totally called that one.

Did my bored expression scare you off?  I’d say that you give up too easily, but I know I’m way worse.  At least I admit I’m a hypocrite, though.

There’s a long silence as you shake out your coat and push your bangs back.

Your smile is crooked.

“How long have you been here?”

Just like everything else connected to you.

“Not long.”

Just like me.

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