Hisoka woke up alone. Grey Nagasaki dawn slid in through the window. Only to be expected. Typical of his lazy, useless partner. Tsuzuki had probably wandered off. Maybe it was report day at Hades.

Hisoka rolled back over, but couldn’t get to sleep. He was dead. He wasn’t supposed to need sleep, but even immortals tired.

A smell drifted in, tickling his nose, pulling him further awake.

“Good morning.” Tsuzuki sat down on the side of the bed and held the cinnamon rolls under Hisoka’s nose. Hisoka opened one eye.

Tsuzuki kissed the tip of his nose with cinnamon breath.