Author's Note: Contains drug use and death, might be triggering for some people. See if you can spot the obvious Pink Floyd reference/overall theme.
Hatori groaned softly as he walked down the halls of the main Sohma estate. He held a hand up to his forehead, the aftereffects of last night were beginning to bother him. He shook his head, shoving his hands down into the pockets of his doctors coat. He needed to wake up, he needed to perk up. Today would be another long, exhausting day of dealing with problems that were not his own, and very minuscule problems at that.
Finding his keys deep within one of the pockets, he fumbled around to find his office key. Sighing quietly, he listened for the familiar click. Unlocking the wooden door, he walked in and shut it behind him. The doctor walked over to his desk and examined his papers from the last few days. Hatori couldn't quite remember yesterday, or even the day before. He frowned. Was his memory beginning to slip? Sitting down at his desk, he exhaled and folded his hands on his desk, thinking. Glancing back down the pages with his messy handwriting scribbled on them, he could read that he examined Akito yesterday. This meant he would be free of Akito's name calling and hair pulling for the day. Akito violently hated the exams Hatori was forced to give her every other day. This gave Hatori a bit of relief, as he was feeling a bit sick. The dragon wasn't sure if he could face that torture today.
Sitting in the silence, Hatori began to progressively feel worse. His mind was wandering off to nowhere, no cohesive thoughts were forming. Was his habit beginning to take his mind from him? The stoic man frowned again, reaching down to the bottom drawer of his desk. Pulling out a small, unlabeled, orange bottle, he twisted it open. Pouring out about three or four white pills, he sighed. Tilting his head back, he swallowed them dry and winced a bit at the bitter aftertaste they left behind. As he screwed the cap back on, he knew that they would help him feel better. He just needed to give them time to kick in. Tossing the orange bottle back down into the drawer, he shut it closed with his foot.
Groaning softly, the headache he was dealing with was beginning to grow more aggressive. The pain was getting unbearable. A twinge of panic began to wash over Hatori. He didn't want this pain, he didn't want these thoughts. He glanced down at the notes on his desk again. Could he…? Without having to see Akito, today should be relatively quiet, right? Hatori had never done this in his office during work hours. Only when he was home alone. However, today… Today was going to be excruciating if he didn't do something. The dragon looked over at the door. Walking over, he locked it, checking it twice to be sure that no one could enter. With a shaky sigh, he walked over to his medicine cabinet. His eyes wandered over the bottles of pills, the syringes, the liquids. A certain clear bottle with a white label caught his eye. His drug of choice.
Biting his lower lip, he looked away shamefully as he pulled out the bottle, the off-white liquid inside sloshing around a bit. His delicate fingers reached for a syringe as well. Sighing again, he stuffed them into his coat's pocket, and shut the cabinet door.
Hatori strolled back over to his desk and set the bottle and needle on it. Removing his doctors coat, he carelessly hung it on the back of his chair. Sitting back down, he leaned back, eyeing the bottle closely. This was a habit, he noted. It was a habit now. Every few days, he was coming back to this drug… This euphoric feeling. Morphine, opium fueled relaxation. He shuddered slightly, remembering the feeling. Yes, he needed that. He needed it now. His wanton for this drug was shameful to him, but the need was growing too strong. It was overpowering. Looking down, he unbuttoned the buttons on the cuff of his sleeve. Rolling his sleeve up, he exposed his left arm. The telltale pinpricks left behind from his past endeavors made him feel a bit sick, and the doctor coughed a bit. The tiny black dots were staring at him, judging him. Frowning, he reached up and his nimble fingers began untying the Windsor knot around his neck.
The brown tie slunk off his neck with ease as he tugged at one side of it. Hatori quickly got to work tying the silk thing around his upper arm, just above his elbow. This was infuriating, embarrassing. Working through his shame, he tugged the knot tightly, restricting the blood flow to his arm. He groaned softly at the pain, telling himself that it would be fine soon. He grabbed the syringe and unscrewed the cap off of the clear bottle. Dipping the needle down into the liquid, he made sure the syringe was full when he pulled it out. Holding it up to his eye, he thumped the glass container of the syringe lightly with his fingers, watching the air bubbles rise to the top. He sighed and prepared himself. His headache was growing. He needed this now.
Looking down at the vein in his arm beginning to bulge out, he lined up the needle with it and turned his head. Hatori didn't want to watch this, no, he couldn't. He never could. Injecting the serum into his arm, he shuddered again. Tugging the needle out of his arm, he moved to set it on his desk. However, as the morphine flowed through his veins, he was suddenly halted. Hatori's green eyes shut and his head tilted back. The euphoria was beginning. His body went limp. The syringe dropped from his hand and crashed to the floor, the glass part of it shattering. Hatori couldn't even hear the noise of it if he wanted to. The dragon sat still, feeling himself slip away.
Suddenly, there was a knock.
Hatori jolted awake. (Was he even asleep?) What time was it? Had it been minutes or… Hours? He couldn't tell. His head was spinning and he was trying to make sense of what happened. He had been lost in thought, but he was almost positive he wasn't thinking about anything. His body felt wildly relaxed, but also very sick. Coughing a bit, Hatori held in a few gags. His stomach wasn't feeling well, and his headache had been replaced with vertigo. The pain was gone, but a pressure was there now. It was growing more and more every second.
Sitting up, he fumbled over himself, trying to answer. "Just a moment." He called, brushing his bangs out of his face. He looked down and tugged the tie wrapped around his arm off. Setting the expensive tie on his desk messily, he quickly unrolled his sleeve, not bothering to button it up again. Hatori smoothed a bit of his hair down and stood up, trying to make it to the door. He tripped over himself once or twice, but ultimately made it safely. "Yes?" He asked in his usual cold tone, looking down at a little blonde boy. Momiji.
"Guten tag, Hatori," Momiji said cheerily, though the boy was sniffling.
"Good… Afternoon, Momiji. How may I help you?" Hatori asked, wondering if he guessed correctly. He had no clue what time of day it was, and his head was spinning too quickly for him to bother taking an educated guess.
Momiji sniffled again, tears forming in his eyes. "I fell down while playing with Kisa and Hiro. Can you help me?" He asked quietly, looking up at the very tall doctor with his big, brown eyes.
Hatori sighed, feeling uneasy about examining the boy in his current state. He nodded even still, waving his hand over to the examination table. Hopefully, Hatori could do this quickly, then get back to… Whatever he had been doing before.
The little blonde nodded and pranced into the doctor's office. The bunny walked past the broken glass on the floor and frowned, wondering why Hatori hadn't cleaned up the accident yet. Shrugging it off, he hopped up onto the table and swung his legs back and forth a bit. Leaning back on his palms, he waited for the usual examination Hatori always gave.
Hatori sighed again, shutting the door behind him. He walked over to the table, a bit shakily, and stood next to the boy. His brow furrowed, and Hatori was struggling to remember how to handle this. "Can you… Can you show me where it hurts?" He asked softly, glancing down at the boy's scuffed up knee.
Momiji frowned, noticing that something seemed a bit off about Hatori, but he couldn't put his finger on what. His cold tone was the same, he was asking the same doctoral questions, but he still seemed… Gone. However, it was always difficult to read Hatori.
"Here," Momiji said sweetly, pointing to his knee. He watched as Hatori bent down a bit to get a closer look. It nearly made Momiji jump out of his skin when Hatori suddenly groaned and stumbled forward a bit while trying to examine his cut. "Hatori?" He squeaked, reaching out to touch Hatori's shoulder.
Hatori shut his eyes for a moment, feeling something wrong. He stayed bent over, his hand going to hold his chest. Why was it tightening? He coughed a bit, and realized that Momiji's voice was fading away and being replaced by a loud, roaring noise. He was only coming through in waves of vibration. Something was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
Hatori forced his eyes open and looked up at Momiji, struggling to be able to speak. "I… I can't hear what you're saying." Hatori breathed, feeling himself start to panic. What was happening to him? This was something he had never experienced.
"Hatori? Hello? Can you can hear me?" Momiji urged, feeling frightened. When Hatori didn't answer, only continued to groan, Momiji felt himself start to cry. "Ha'ri, please stop! Is this your sense of humor? This isn't funny! Please, say something!" He cried.
Hatori felt a cold sweat forming under the long bangs covering his face. He could barely see the floor of his office through his squinted eyes. It felt like a cold hand was traveling up his back and he began shaking. What was that? That feeling… Was it… Death? Was this it for him? What had gone wrong? By his calculations, taking the Valium with the morphine shouldn't have mixed incorrectly, and the amount of opium used was approximate to how much he usually used. He made sure there were no air bubbles… What was happening? Feeling a panic rise up in him, he stood up as straight as he could and grabbed Momiji's shoulders.
"Listen to me," He demanded, his voice both frail and pathetic, but also growling and deep. Momiji had never heard anything like it. The blonde nodded, tearing rolling down from his eyes.
"Tell me, Ha'ri, what is happening?" He whimpered softly, reaching out for the family doctor.
Hatori couldn't hear him, he couldn't hear anything except the loud ringing in his ears. He groaned again, feeling shame wash over his body.
"You need to get someone, I have… I have taken something. I am… I am having a reaction. You need to go," Hatori's voice cracked as he began choking on his own words. Were those tears running down his own face?
"What did you take Ha'ri?" Momiji urged, tugging roughly on Hatori's shirt. He needed to know before going to get someone for help.
Continuing, his voice wavered, "I can't explain it… You wouldn't understand. This is not who I am," The dragon sobbed, his grip tightening on Momiji. "This is not who I am." He repeatedly firmly, choking on another sob.
In vain, he tried to continue. "With Kana, with Kana… The pain. God, the pain. With her, I caught a fleeting glimpse of happiness. It was out of the corner of my eye. It was a flash. I turned to look at it, but it was gone. I wanted to love her, but someone kept pulling me away from her. Kana was my sin, but Akito… Akito is the god I must cling to, I have to. I can't put my finger on these feelings anymore… But now..." Hatori paused to cough again, feeling his whole body beginning to shut down. His green eyes looked up at Momiji and he felt his grip loosening. How could he confess this to innocent little Momiji? Hatori knew this was it, though the shame of it stung, he needed to say these things in his final moments. "I… have finally become… numb." He breathed, his vision starting to blur. He could see Akito, he could see Ayame, Shigure… And most importantly, he could see her. He could see Kana. He could see her smile. Hatori could smell her, nearly taste her again. Suddenly, they all disappeared, fading away. Everything went black right before Hatori's eyes. He heard a distant scream- was it his own? His final thoughts were nothing but a list of regrets.
The doctor's eyes rolled back, and for a second, Momiji only saw the whites of his eyes. In a flash, Hatori collapsed lifelessly onto the floor, his body crumpled into a pile. Momiji shrieked, vaulting himself off the examination table. He jumped over Hatori and bolted to the door, running out into the hallway while screaming for help.
It was Kureno who arrived onto the scene first. After a few failed trials of CPR, Kureno finally decided that he needed to get Hatori to a real hospital as soon as possible. The trip was made in vain, however, Kureno could feel that Hatori had no pulse.
A week later, the entire Sohma estate gathered to the Sohma bruial ground for Hatori. A beautiful sermon and funeral was held for the beloved family doctor. All of them cried, every single maid, every single family member. They all expected to be here sooner or later, but everyone expected the funeral to be Akito's. As the last bit of dirt was shoveled onto Hatori's grave, everyone looked away, almost unison with each other. No one wanted to see the final act of his burial. Even Akito, who sat quietly and stoically, let out a tiny sob as the service came to a close. As it was over, the family disbanded, each of them going their own separately ways silently.
Shigure had an arm around Ayame, who was quietly sobbing on his shoulder. Shigure glanced down at the suits both of them had on. For once in his life, he was wearing a suit that wasn't Hatori's. No, Shigure couldn't wear one of his suits to this. The smell of Hatori was still on all of them, and Shigure's keen canine nose could pick up on it. It broke his heart. It also broke his heart that Ayame's first time wearing a suit had to be under these circumstances.
Shigure glanced down. They were the only ones left in the graveyard. The two of them stayed behind as everyone left. Right below his feet was Hatori. The family doctor. Their dragon. Their best friend. Shigure felt his brow furrow and a few angry tears slipped down his cheeks. He would stay quiet, he wouldn't sob here. Ayame needed someone to be strong.
"Aya," Shigure breathed, rubbing Ayame's back lovingly. "It's… It's time to go. We need to go." He whispered, stroking his fingers through Ayame's long, silver hair.
Ayame didn't answer, he merely continued to cry, whimpering Hatori's name every once in awhile. Finally, he pulled away from Shigure and looked down at Hatori's grave. He sniffled softly, moving to hold Shigure's hand.
"…'Gure?" Ayame whispered, never taking his eyes off of Hatori's headstone. "Do you think he's finally happy?"
Shigure stayed quiet, contemplating the question. He shivered slightly as a cold wind blew through the graveyard, and he finally tore his eyes away from the ground beneath his feet.
"I do, Aya." The dog whispered, giving Ayame's hand a small squeeze. "We need to go now, Ayame. Tell… Tell Ha'ri goodbye."
Shigure couldn't watch as Ayame dropped to his knees onto the freshly laid dirt. Shigure could barely hear Ayame whispering something to the ground. He shook his head. Whatever Ayame was saying, it was for Hatori only, not for him to hear. When Aya finally stood back up, Shigure wrapped his arm around him protectively.
"Let's go."