Strange love, strange highs and strange lows. Strange love, that's how my love goes. Strange love, will you give it to me? Will you take the pain, I will give to you, again and again, and will you return it?

lyrics by Depeche Mode, "Strange Love" from Music for the Masses

This song reminds me of Shigure and Akito. They both want to love each and be loved by one another so badly, and yet all they can do is hurt each other as they struggle with the intensity of their feelings.

Shigure rested his head in his hands as he sat at his desk. He didn't know how to get her out of his mind. What happened between them six months ago was unforgivable…unacceptable. Without meaning to, he began to think of her again. He envisioned her defined, angular cheekbones that trailed down to a piquant chin and pursed rosebud lips. He imagined those lips and what they felt like pressed fully against his own.
Catching himself, he jerked his mind back to a semblance of order. He shuddered with disgust at himself. She was only sixteen years old. He really was a dirty old man. Old. He was hardly old, being only twenty-four, but that was still old enough to know better than to think that way about a teenage girl.

It had started innocently enough. He and Akito had been close ever since her father had died. He still remembered when Hatori's father had brought her home with him the night of Akira's death. It was the first time he had seen Akito up close. Both he and Hatori had cried as the blood bond of the Juuneshi awoke within them, filling their veins with a strange, throbbing, pulsing energy. His heart had felt as though it overflowed with love and compassion for the child and he had walked over to Kurosawa and taken the child from him. Akito had been crying for much of the night, and through her haze of tears, she had begged Shigure to promise to stay with her always. Dazed by the strength of his newly awakened juuneshi bond, he had promised his eternal love and to always stay by her side.
He had been content to stay in the role of comforter and confidante. He certainly wasn't looking to be romantically involved with a child. He fancied himself to be like an uncle or older brother to Akito. While Akito's relationships with the other Juuneshi had soured due to her mercurial and violent nature, with him, it had remained consistently sweet and loving. In retrospect, he felt some degree of irritation with himself for not seeing the potential for an attraction to develop. He had thought nothing of holding her in his lap and stroking her hair when she was five; why he had thought it appropriate to continue to do that until she was sixteen was beyond his ability to reconcile in his mind.
In some ways, he must have been in a state of willful denial; that was the only explanation he could come up with that would somehow excuse his behavior. He knew now what he had not then; that somewhere along the line, while offering comfort and succor to Akito, he had crossed that line in emotional intimacy that delineates friendship and love. His heart did not recognize their age difference; it only recognized the powerful bond and intimacy between them.

He began imagining holding her in his arms again. Having spent the better part of his life denied physical contact because of his curse, he had really come to enjoy the physical closeness of his relationship with Akito. He loved the feel of her body crushed against his chest in their embrace, his hands resting in the hollow of her lower back; the warm, floral scent of her hair as her head rested against his cheek. He remembered how she had turned her gaze up at him and he had felt as though her dark eyes swallowed him whole, drawing him down into her. The energy between them had seemed to intensify and pool in the pit of Shigure's stomach. His vision had narrowed until he saw nothing but Akito; his heart had been beating so rapidly and he had felt slightly dizzy. He found himself staring at her full, rosy lips. They were slightly parted and she seemed breathless as her half-lidded, smoky eyes stared deep into his.

Without thinking, he had lowered his mouth to hers, gently pressing his lips firmly against hers. The energy in his stomach had seemed to surge and he had felt himself hardening in response. His hands had then moved around her waist and pulled her in closer. He had encountered little resistance, in fact, she had moved with him, pressing herself hard against his chest, her hands reaching up around his neck and entwining in his hair. When he had moved his lips down her neck, kissing and sucking at the flesh where the neck and the collarbone met, she had arched against him and moaned softly in response. He had become more aroused than he had ever felt before.

He was becoming aroused just thinking of it. Remember the way she cried when you pushed her away you idiot, he thought vindictively at himself. That took the wind out of his sails fairly quickly. Akito had really not understood when he pushed her away; she took it as a rejection of her self and had cried, refusing to listen to his explanation.
When he had tried to explain that he felt like he was taking advantage of her trust, that she was too young and vulnerable to be giving herself to him, she had cried harder and struck him hard across the face. When he tried to comfort her, she had quickly wrapped herself around him and began kissing him again. Overcome with his desire for her, he had actually begun kissing her back until his conscience was able to reach him again when he came up for air. He felt his face redden with shame at the memory. He ran his hand through his hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck. "I really am a dog," he thought to himself.

No longer able to trust himself with her, he finally had ended up leaving the room. Akito began screaming at him as he left and she threw a vase that shattered in the door frame behind him as he slipped out the door. As he ran down the hall, he heard her sobbing, and it eviscerated him.
It was shortly after that that he had moved from the main house to his small home by Kaibara High School. Now in the silence of the home, he was able to throw himself into his writing. Only when he was immersed in the literary worlds of his own creation was he able to escape the memory of Akito. He had tried to speak with her once after the incident, but her maids had turned him away, telling him that she was too ill see him. Shigure had shrugged off the slight, hiding his disappointment in his image as carefree, merry author.
He had even tried to double date with Hatori and Kana, but it was clear to both himself and his date, Mayu, that neither of them had much interest in each other. He had found Mayu interesting for the sake of her poorly hidden love for her friend Kana's boyfriend. Mayu had found him to be annoyingly difficult to pin down to any definite statement or decision, and had, to his amusement, nicknamed him "Ripples" in reference to the cliché about trying to pin a wave upon the sand. He enjoyed needling Mayu about Hatori for the brief time they went together; he liked the way the veins in her temples would engorge and throb every time he made a double entendre or spoke admiringly of her; he also loved the beet red flush that would creep up from her neck, slowly covering her cheeks whenever he would "accidentally" blurt out something that Mayu thought about Hatori while out on their double dates . However, he found that it was not enough to keep his mind off Akito, so he did not argue when she broke off their relationship after a month.

Shigure shook his head to clear the memories from his mind. With the New Year's banquet coming up next week, he knew that Akito wasn't going to be able to avoid him much longer, and he also knew that the awkwardness of their first meeting since he pushed her away would be difficult for her to bear publicly. He laughed softly to himself, who was he kidding? It wouldn't be so comfortable for him either. He would just as soon get the unpleasantness over with beforehand in private and spare both himself and Akito the scrutiny of the rest of the Juuneshi.
He stood up and stretched, straightening out the kimono he had taken to wearing since he moved into his new house. When the others had asked him why he wore it, he had laughed it off as the privilege of writer's eccentricity. He found wearing that the mask of a buffoon deflecting to many questions about his personal life and his motives; he wasn't about the admit to anyone that it reminded him of Akito, and how soft and warm her shoulders had felt beneath his lips as he had gently pulled the sleeves of her kimono down to expose them. By force of will, he wrenched his mind out of the memory, irritated by its ability to engulf him still, six months after the fact.

Twenty minutes later, he arrived outside of the door of the main house. He let himself in quietly and made his way down the hall towards Akito's room. With any luck at all, her maid would be elsewhere, leaving no one to run interference for Akito. He reached the door with no interruptions. He knocked quietly at the door. There was no response.

"Akito?" he said quietly, "are you in there?" Hearing nothing, he quietly slide the door open and peered within. The sitting room was darkened with all the curtains drawn shut. He heard the soft hushed tones of voices coming from the bedroom off to the left. He quietly crept in the room, and approached the bedroom door.

The voices were more audible now. He could hear Akito murmuring softly to someone, but he could not make out what she was saying. He quietly slid the door open a few centimeters and he peered through. As his eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness, he began to be able to see what was going on before him.
Two figures lay entwined in the bed beneath a sheet. He heard Akito laugh softly and he saw a man's hand run lightly over her hair and pull her in closely for a kiss. Shigure felt a wave of icy coldness, run down his face into his heart. He pulled the door open a little further, trying to catch a glimpse of Akito's lover. Akito wrapped her arms around the man's torso and pulled him closer, causing the man's face to become more visible to Shigure's vantage point.

Shigure drew his breath in sharply. Kureno? Akito was making love with Kureno? Akito looked to the door when she heard Shigure's gasp. Her eyes widened and then narrowed in rage. She quickly drew the sheets around her to cover herself. Kureno looked up at the door in shock.

"What are you doing here!" she shouted. "How dare you enter my room without knocking!" Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Kureno looked as though he wanted to disappear into the wall. Shigure looked at her coldly for a moment, and then a twisted smile came to his lips.

"But Akito-san, I did knock. No one answered, but I was certain I heard someone within, so I let myself in to assure myself that you were all right," he smiled bitterly at her. "I can see you are well taken care of and that I had no cause to worry. With Kureno here for you, I sure all of your needs will be met, and any further solicitude from myself would be unnecessary." He bowed with mock reverence, slid the door shut and walked out of the room. He heard Akito shouting to him as he walked out of her sitting room into the hall, but he ignore her and slide the bedroom door shut. He left the main house as quickly as he could manage without drawing attention to himself; his only thought was to get to his home as quickly as he could where he could nurse his wounds privately.