(FIC) Kaleidoscope Kiss, PG, Chrno Crusade/Yami no Matsuei

[toreadore-rose.livejournal.com]

Title: Kaleidoscope Kiss
Author: toreadore_rose
Fandoms: Chrno Crusade/Yami no Matsuei
Rating: PG
Warnings: a little blood, nudity, kissing...
Pairings: Hisoka/Rosette (het)
Summary: a collection of moments with Hisoka and Rosette
Note: Yes the tence changes on purpose, Hisoka is remembering things from the ppast while other things happen in the present ^_^;



Breathing in, he can nearly taste it. The rushing surge, the blaring loud and coldly soft… everything that is mashed together and melted into a storm, everything that is hidden behind that sweet brave smile.

“You’ll be entertaining a new shinigami today, while Tsuzuki is still… away,” Tatsumi had said earlier in the week.

*Just say it, on the retreat,* Hisoka thought irritably, feeling his insides itch with agitation. Kyoto had been hard on Tsuzuki, and after a few too many days of listlessness everyone agreed that Tsuzuki needed some time away, to relax, to feel better, to gather himself. If he was going to agree Tsuzuki needed a break Hisoka thought he shouldn’t dance around saying it like it was something they all didn’t know.

He simply raised a sharp blond eyebrow, his acid-green eyes narrowing quizzically. Taking down his feet from where they were comfortably propped on the desk, Hisoka let his elbows fall onto his knees, his hands catching his chin as he slouched.

“So, who is it?” Tatsumi always felt so blank to him, Hisoka wasn’t sure if it was something that made him grateful or something that unnerved him. Either way it melted the headache wriggling between his eyes.

“… well, I suppose I should tell you she’s not really new. She’s been transferred here; it’s been hard for her to find a partner she can… work with appropriately.”

“Uh-huh, and you think she’ll work any better with me?”

But surprisingly enough, they worked together well.

Rosette Christopher was a girl of constantly changing emotions. One moment she would swing high with happiness only to simmer low with hallow hot anger the moment after. She’d laugh loudly when she stomped the gas pedal, sending the car blaring down the rode. She’d curve sharp into tight parking spots while Hisoka clutched the upholstery and clung to the rush of her thrill to ignore his own throbbing heart. He’d give a sore shaky laugh when car became still and the engine simmered down, coughing before it died.

“See? I told you I could drive,” she had said, a smile on her lips, the warm abrasive glow of pride over her face.

“Well, it’s got to take some sort of skill to move a car like that.”

Rosette loved cars, all the new faster better models then what she was used to. Hisoka, having not yet grown to terrified to kick her from the wheel, sat rigid in the passenger seat most of the time.

“We’re both technically to young to drive so its not like you can use that one against me, like the rest of ‘em did,” Rosette said with a violent twist of the wheel. The car dodged sharply to the side, casting dirty curls of rain water to lash onto the sidewalk.

Hisoka only glanced sideways, the moment he realized that she in fact died the same age as he did.

“How?” he heard himself say, stomach jumping, nails scratching hard against worn leather seats. His seatbelt cut hard across his chest.

“Oh you know…” she could smile as brave as she wanted, and the gleam in her eyes was rather convincing, but the instant dip of her mood, the cold that bit under Hisoka’s nails and made his eyes itch like they were numb, that told of genuine sadness. “I just… ran out of time…” her fingers, sitting perfectly through her white fingerless driving gloves, stroked fondly across the odd antique dead clock she wore around her neck.

Irritation. That didn’t answer anything. He wanted to know more.

The car jolted to jarring stop.

“Well, we’re here! Out, out, out!”

And as the crushed velvet sinks under him like fresh strawberry marshmallow, he can find it somewhere in her, that nervousness that was there at that moment, still lingering. His eyes crack open and he can see her gloves, folded neat on the table behind them, kissed with black burnt ash. They smell faintly of gunpowder. Her holster is sung haphazardly over the chair, holding a very comfortable very used pair of sleek silver guns.

They often go to target practice together. It’s not as impressive as what Rosette knows, not the lavish training facilities of the Mageline Order. She explained it to him once, after her lips almost pouted, plush, and he blew the smoke hissing from the tip of her gun. They had just taken down a nasty, hellish demon. The Order had artificial devils and mazes and headsets that let you speak directly to a crew in the control tower.

“But I like practicing with you better anyway,” she said dismissively, shoving a clip of bullets into her gun, grinning as he held it at arm’s length and gave a low impressed whistle. “We’re impressive, you and me!”

His fingers brush the smooth cold glass of the dead clock, hanging silent over her chest. She’s not an empath, but she knows something is wrong.

Rosette knows Hisoka can’t understand.

She had hauled his arm over her shoulder and eased him out of the practice area, down a soothing slope of grass, into a little nest of a clearing that was low enough to keep away the barking of gunshots and the hollers of victory.

She’d never seen marks quite like those before. Childish curiosity flickered across her deep blue eyes and she reached out as if to touch them, but Hisoka flinched violently, crumpling in pain.

“Don’t,” he spat, his eyes like battery acid.

“What’s happening to you?” her voice was soft with concern, pushed fast from her lips with urgency. She pouted as if he had kept a secret from her, her arms crossing over her chest. “You idiot, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“I-It’ll go away…”

“But what is it?”

“S-stop it.”

“Hisoka!”

“No!”

“Come on! I’m just worried about you for Christ’s sake!” Hisoka vaguely thought that for someone who used to be a nun, she certainly didn’t act like one. Then, she wasn’t a nun, exactly, she was an exorcist. He was still almost positive she shouldn’t be saying things like that. Although, being a shinigami, it didn’t really matter for her anymore.

“It’s just a curse! It… killed me. It still wont stop.”

“Oh…” her dark blonde almost bronzy eyebrows knit down, a frown on her lips. “Who…?”

“A man, a murderer. I saw something I shouldn’t have and…”

“Oh, Hisoka, I…” Rosette chewed her bottom lip, looking ather hands tangle nervously in her lap.

“It took three years to kill me, three years and I could feel my life ticking away each second.”

Her eyes shot up and her fingers latched tightly around her clock. It was that moment Hisoka knew, that at least on some level, they could understand each other.

“I-I… I know what it’s like, I guess. But mine wasn’t really…” the pad of her finger traced around the face of her clock, her head tilting to the side. Sunset-gold hair tumbled across her eyes. “I chose it, I guess.”

“You… what?” where was that feeling of connection.

“I had to… to save my brother. I made a contract with a devil… my old partner, when I worked for the order, when I was alive. The cost of which was… his power would feed off my life. The ticking meant I was getting closer to death…” her knuckles rolled against the glass of the clock’s face, her head tilting as her eyes shut, a lukewarm awkward smile on her lips.

*Did you hate the devil? Did it burn you up inside? Is it anything like how Muraki etched this curse into me? Stole my life? Still won’t take it away? Take it back?*

“Didn’t you-”

“I loved Chrno,” and that feeling of connection and understanding… it was fleeting and gone and leaving him empty. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Hisoka…”

“It’s the same, but it’s not,” he said vaguely, looking away, letting his eyes slant down to his fingers on the grass, letting his back sink against the tree. The curse marks were simmering, dulling, fading. They had caused him enough pain, loss, and were satisfied for the moment.

Rosette sat silent on her knees, fingering the shinny buckle that hung across her waist.

“… I could hardly stand having my life taken away by someone I loved. I… can’t imagine what it would feel like to feel the same loss… from a monster. I’m sorry… Hisoka.”

The curse bit meanly into his skin. He smiled so faintly he wasn’t even sure if the expression lifted his lips one bit. Her smiling back told him that Rosette could tell she had said just the right.

“So, wanna go blast the hell out of those targets now?” she asked with a devilish smile.

Breathing in, Hisoka can feel it so much clearer. The hair clinging to her neck, wet gold like a molten sunset, is covered in drops of water. They snake down her neck, shoulders, and her shivers make him cold. His fingers clutch her shoulders. She sighs and he breaths in too much, feeling as if air has left him. He feels wet like her, cold and dizzy and there are sharp pains over his wrists, his feet, and dancing in too-sharp pins and needles across his forehead.

It was only minutes ago.

Rosette screamed and there was a dull crash; her body hitting the bottom of the plastic hotel tub. Several quick snaps, a teasing flutter, and the shower curtain was over her shoulders like a shawl, her hands clutching tight at the flimsy plastic.

The door slammed open.

“Rosette are you-?” Hisoka’s cheeks had turned the color of Valentine’s Day roses, his eyes widening like round jade marbles. “R-Rosette?”

She held up her wrists to show him, the cross shaped gashes sliced deep into her flesh, pouring endless amounts of blood down her arms. It seemed to glitter, her blood, like a million tiny specks of ruby flowed through her veins. The wet crimson lines slithered over her skin as she bled over herself, like snakes, like something more familiar to him. The same crosses were cut into her gently shaking feet, and a cloud of little pin-pricks spilled threads of blood down her face. She blinked and her tears were blood, the water washing it down her face.

“S-sorry it just startled me…” she stuttered, pulling her arms to her chest as if her hands had been slapped, yanking the tacky yellow shower curtain around herself.

Whatever assignment had sent them to his little middle of nowhere hotel was suddenly so far away. It didn’t matter. Rosette was bleeding.

Rosette was scared.

“… C-come on,” the fear made his throat feel tight, gripped his words before he could force them out. He shook his head, forcing back Rosette’s emotions… but it wouldn’t leave. Her fear brought out his and that was something he couldn’t get away from.

Hisoka offered her his hand, jolting slightly when she took it, and lead her across the bathroom. Once she was wearing his soft black bathrobe, and once he had carefully wrapped each wound, he stood and starred at the girl kicking her feet back and forth on the counter. The mirror was foggy with steam behind her… Hisoka didn’t look like himself.

“What was that…?” They headed for the living room, where it was more comfortable. The soft couch cushions seemed to suck on them as they sat, pulling their hips down a little to much and bending them at awkward angles. Hisoka put his arm on the back of the couch to hoist himself out of the sinking softness; Rosette tucked her shoulder against his ribs.

“It’s… called stigmata. It means I was chosen by god…” she laughed, bitterness fluttering through her tone. “Funny, when the gates of heaven wouldn’t even open for me.”

“They couldn’t send you to-” Hisoka was offended, horrified by the thought that-

“No… but I made a contract with a devil, I don’t belong anywhere…”

“That’s not true,” his tone was flat, “You’ve been just fine working with me the last few weeks. So don’t say things like that.” He looked at the bandages, tinged pink.

Rosette looked up with wide, polished blue eyes.

And so it came to the moment, the now, the instant the kaleidoscope of his memories and her feelings would dance behind Hisoka’s closed eyes. The moment Rosette Christopher kissed him. The moment that would last longer then minutes that trailed one after another, collecting into hours; Hisoka’s hand fell from Rosette’s dead clock, finding her finger’s instead. Her emotions swelled and surged and hummed as their lips touched and as he breathed in… he could taste every single one.

His head tilted down. “Ah… dizzy…”

“O-oh…” Rosette leaned away, blush stinging her face. “I-I-”

“No,” Hisoka looked at her, blinking his smooth jade eyes. “It’s… its okay.”

“I forgot, I didn’t mean, I mean I was upset and I…” she gave an embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of her head, messing her wet clinging hair. “Your empathy, I didn’t…” she trailed off awkwardly, letting her words hang. “… What did it feel like?”

“… Like a kaleidoscope.”

“Huh?”

“Dizzying, a little to much… but …. Nice.”

Rosette’s smile was one of the most beautiful he had ever seen… perhaps because of the true serine calm he could feel ebbing away the tension under her skin.

“Well, I was going to say something that makes more sense like a sunrise or…” she teased.

“Please, I'm more original then that.”