kinkfest | Bad Medicine (Yami no Matsuei, Muraki/Tsubaki)

Title: Bad Medicine
Author/Artist:

veleda_k
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~2470
Prompt: Muraki/Tsubaki, illusions kept - What I am to you is not real /What I am to you / you do not need / What I am to you is not what you mean to me / you give me miles and miles of mountains / And I'll ask for the sea
A/N: Many thanks to the brilliant

ravenbell for betaing.

Muraki stared at the at the corpse lying on the operating table. Now it was nothing but an empty husk, when only hours before it had been a lively young woman, a young woman who had laughed and cried, and at the end had screamed, fought, and cursed at him. How easy it had been to snuff out her spirit. Human life was so fragile.

Muraki moved quickly, packing away the organs that had once belonged to Eileen. The heart was promised to Tsubaki, but there was plenty of demand for other organs on the black market. And of course there was the matter of his own private research.

He brushed aside the corpse's hair and let his fingers linger over it's still cooling cheek. "You're going going to be a part of great things, my dear." Muraki tidied up the scene of the crime, hiding the body away before shedding his bloodstained coat and leaving the operating room. Kakyouin was hovering outside the door, looking anxious. He had refused to go inside while Muraki worked. Pathetic man. Did he think that his conscience would stay clean as long as he didn't have to see that deed? He would learn.

"It's done," Muraki said with a nod. "Is Tsubaki-hime ready?"

"Um, yes," Kakyouin said. He smiled fondly. "She's very excited,"

Muraki brushed past, not bothering to respond. He walked briskly to Tsubaki's room, knocking lightly before opening the door. Tsubaki was sitting on her bed, the thin hospital gown making her look even paler and more delicate than usual. She looked at him apprehensively. "Doctor."

Muraki smiled at her, and she immediately smiled back. Like a puppet, it was easy to elicit the desired response by pulling the correct strings. "Are you ready?" Visibly steeling herself, Tsubaki nodded. "Excellent," Muraki said. Her helped her up and gently led her to the operating room.

"I wish that I could see Eileen," Tsubaki told him softly.

"I know. However, we don't want you to catch any germs. You won't even be able to see your father."

"I understand." Tsubaki was silent for a few moments. "I'm scared," she finally admitted.

"That's perfectly understandable." Muraki stroked her hair. "But I promised to take care of you, didn't I? Don't you trust me?"

"Of course! I trust you completely!" She looked up at him with wide, sincere eyes. "I'm sorry, I'll be good."

"Of course you will." Muraki opened the door to the operating room. "Now, you're going to go to sleep, and when you wake up, it will be the start of your brand new life." Tsubaki smiled at him adoringly, and Muraki wondered what her expression would be if she knew that her savior had murdered her best friend in order to give her life. Yes, he would have to see that one day. However, at the moment he had surgery to perform.

Muraki frowned as her made his way to Tsubaki's room. Kakyouin was becoming a problem. The man thought that the whole messy business should be over and done with now that he had what he wanted. What selfishness. As if he could wipe his soul clean by ending it here. Whatever Kakyouin thought, it didn't matter to Muraki. He had come to far too be stopped by the whining of a weak old man.

Muraki rapped on the door. "Tsubaki-hime? It's me." He waited until Tsubaki gave her permission to enter. She was sitting up in bed, half covered in blankets. With her pale skin and white nightgown, she looked as fragile as a china doll.

She beamed at him. "Hello, Doctor."

He smiled back. "I've brought you your medicine."

The first time Tsubaki had taken her medicine, she spat out the first sip. "This tastes awful!" she cried. "I can't drink it!"

Muraki had knelt beside her. "Tsubaki-hime, if your don't take your medicine, you'll die. I don't want that to happen." It was true, after all. She was useless to him dead. "Please drink it for my sake." That was all it had taken. From that day forward she took whatever Muraki gave her without complaint or question. Eventually she even learned to hide to hide her displeasure completely, her face expressionless and her movements automatic.

This time was no different. Tsubaki drained the cup without a word. Muraki hid his anticipation behind a mask of professional warmth. It should only take a few moments for the drugs to take effect. He had slowly been increasing a careful cocktail of drugs into Tsubaki's anti-rejection medicine. At first, the effects had been mild— the girl might find herself becoming a bit dazed or perhaps unusually sleepy, but nothing more— but Muraki had steadily intensified the mix and the final result was in front of him. Tsubaki stared ahead uncomprehending, her eyes as blank as glass. She was a marvelous creation, but she wasn't quite complete. Muraki leaned forward like a trusted conspirator. "Tsubaki-hime, I'll tell you who the donor of your heart was, but don't tell your father," he whispered in her ear. "For that heart... Eileen had to die." Tsubaki let out a small gasp and her eyes widened. Her expression was a marvelous mixture of betrayal, pain, and disbelief. In one instant, the poor thing was broken completely, and she had never looked more beautiful.

"It was your father's idea," Muraki continued. "And I killed her myself. Your father will never tell you, but I think that you have a right to know. It's your fault that she's dead after all." Muraki reached out and caught one of the tears falling down Tsubaki's cheek. "My poor dear," her murmured with something almost like fondness. "There's no need to cry. You still have me." He tenderly eased the trembling girl backward. "Sleep now," he commanded softly.

Muraki tucked Tsubaki in snugly and left the room. This was only the first step. Next would be observing the effects of the hypnosis. Tsubaki should have no conscious memories of their conversation, but subconsciously the truth would fester and grow like a noxious weed. He would allow Tsubaki's anger and guilt some more time to ripen before moving to the next stage. He was eager to begin. To create an alternate personality, personally designed by him— the potential was enormous. Muraki walked the halls feeling the kind of satisfaction that could only come from a job well done.

Sitting at his desk, Muraki looked up when he heard the door open. "It ends now," Kakyouin said without preamble. "I want out."

Muraki's interest was mildly raised. Kakyouin had never been happy with their arrangement, but it seemed that he had finally reached a breaking point. He shook his head, his expression composed. "I'm afraid that that's not possible."

"The hell it isn't! I never wanted any of this! I only wanted—"

"To save your daughter's life," Muraki finished for him. "A noble goal indeed." His eyes sharpened. "But miracles aren't cheap. I gave you what you wanted. Isn't it only fair that you return the favor?"

"Not like this! You're carving up children!"

"I've been carving up children since the very beginning," Muraki replied pointedly. "It didn't bother you then."

Kakyouin spluttered. "Well, it's over now."

"And if word of your involvement in this messy affair got out?"

"Don't try that, Muraki. If I went down, you'd go down with me."

Muraki nodded, acknowledging the point. "There's still one thing that you've failed to consider."

"And what's that?"

Muraki directed his gaze behind Kakyouin. "Come in, my dear."

Tsubaki stepped in shyly. "I heard shouting," she said. "Father, are your arguing with Dr. Muraki?"

"A minor disagreement," Kakyouin quickly assured her. "However, I've come to the conclusion that it would be better if we found a new doctor to look after you.

"No!" Tsubaki flung herself between them. "Father, you can't!"

"But my dear, you're much stronger now. And we can find another doctor."

Tsubaki shook her head fiercely. "No one could look after me the way Dr. Muraki does! He cares about me!"

"I know that Dr. Muraki has been very good to you." Kakyouin tried to placate her. "However, you have to understand--"

"No, you don't understand! You don't understand because you never have time for me. But Doctor Muraki does!" She burst into tears. "If you take Dr. Muraki away from me, I'll... I'll die! I really will!"

Muraki watched the unfolding melodrama with interest. Since he first placed her under hypnosis, Tsubaki had only grown more dependent on him. Muraki hypothesized that she was subconsciously seeking out the only person who shared her terrible secret and had been willing to tell her the truth. How amusing that she would place all of her faith in the man directly responsible for her pain.

Kakyouin hung his head and wrapped his arms around his daughter. "Don't say such things. If you want Dr. Muraki to stay that badly, then he will. Won't you?" Kakyouin looked up and met Muraki's eyes.

"Of course." Muraki's tone was pleasant, but he didn't bother to hide the naked triumph on his face. She's mine now his expression told Kakyouin. If you try to get rid of me, you'll accomplish nothing except breaking the heart you gave your soul to acquire. "Why don't you let me take you back to your room, Tsubaki-hime? I'm sure that you've had quite enough excitement for one day." Tsubaki meekly allowed herself to be to be led along, smiling timidly up at Muraki. "There's nothing to worry about, my dear," he assured her. "You'll always have me to look after you." And the foolish girl, blinded by her love, saw no sign of the plans and machinations that were turning in the doctor's head.

Muraki scowled as he checked the readings on his latest experiment. Another failure. It didn't matter what he tried, cell regeneration had simply stopped occurring. Initially it had been encouraging to see even the slightest results, but they were no longer enough.

Muraki had made significant advances aboard the Queen Camellia, but it seemed that it was time to move on. He pondered his next move. He would need a more advanced laboratory, one specifically designed for his unique research. Perhaps he would get in touch with Satomi. He would have the equipment and space that Muraki required. And who knew? Perhaps the old man himself would prove of some use.

Yes, it was clearly time to advance to the next stage, which meant that the Queen Camellia, and the people within her, had reached the end of their usefulness.

It would be simple enough to kill them all. Poison would be quick and efficient. As the only physician aboard, he could pronounce it disease and end the matter. But that lacked artistry. Muraki was well aware that he had a fondness for the dramatic, and he couldn't resist this chance to indulge in some theatrics. Besides, the Queen Camellia deserved a grand send off in return for all she had given him. After cleaning himself up, Muraki made his way to Tsubaki's room. She was the central piece in this game.

Muraki had created Eileen partly to sate his own curiosity, but why do anything for only one reason? He would unleash Eileen and grant her the opportunity to wreak her vengeance. The wronged woman, seeking to balance the scales--what a terribly romantic notion. If Muraki was the King of Swords, then Eileen would be Justice. And wouldn't it be all the more beautiful when she ultimately failed?

Muraki had no intention of dying at the hands of a shadow.

However, all of that was in the future. It was not quite time for Eileen to awaken. But it would be soon, very soon.

He opened the door to Tsubaki's room as he had done so many times before. "I've brought you your medicine." And just as she always did, Tsubaki smiled, thanked him, and obediently drained the cup he gave her. Muraki waited for her to enter the trance, then began to fill her mind with schemes and rage, spun so carefully and delicately that Tsubaki would remember nothing and Eileen would never guess that the plan wasn't hers. Once Muraki was satisfied, he sent the girl to sleep and exited the room silently. Events had been set in motion and there was no stopping them now. But that was all right. Muraki had never been the type to regret.

It was Eileen Muraki shot, Eileen who fell, but it was Tsubaki who looked up at him with relieved, exhausted eyes. "Doctor, you're alive." She smiled. Muraki was a bit surprised. Her ridiculous devotion was stronger than even he had anticipated if it was strong enough to survive even this blatant betrayal. "Doctor, I love you."

Yes, he had noticed that. Muraki smiled as he plucked the camellia from her quivering chest. "But I don't love you."

"How can you say that!?" the boy exclaimed. "Tsubaki-hime is in love with you!"

"Love is nothing more than a byproduct of infatuation," Muraki stated matter-of-factly. He wondered at the boy's shock. Surely he didn't expect any kindness or gentleness from the man who raped, tortured and murdered him. Then he noticed the grief in the boy's eyes and the way he cradled Tsubaki in his arms and the pieces fell into place. It seemed that Tsubaki was not the only one suffering from a foolish infatuation. You're full of surprises lately, aren't you boy? he thought with amusement.

Tsuzuki attempted to rush at him, but stopped when the ship was rocked by a loud explosion. Right on time, then. It was time to make his exit. Tsuzuki pursued him—a delightful thing—leaving behind Tsubaki, the boy, and the gun that Muraki had just happened to leave behind. The bullet he fired had probably hit Tsubaki's lung. It wasn't a pleasant way to die; the poor girl would drown in her own blood. He wondered what the boy would do.

Tsuzuki was as easy to distract as ever, and Muraki left him behind with only a little regret. There were steps to take before he could claim Tsuzuki permanently. Rushing things would do no good. Safely aboard his helicopter, Muraki wondered if the boy and Tsubaki had finished their little lovers' tragedy. He wondered if she had died with his name on her lips. She had impressive willpower, in her own way, to hold on to her illusions even if the face of death.

Muraki stared at the camellia he had taken from Tsubaki. The cut flower would soon be as dead as the girl who had been named for it. People, like flowers, withered so easily.

Muraki tossed the flower away and gave the matter no more thought.