Whee! My first Fruits Basket fanfic! Remember, Akito is MALE!
The smell of salt was the first thing he noticed. Opening his eyes, he saw a small, tranquil beach with large waves crashing on its shore. High above were the silhouettes of wheeling seagulls.
Looking around, he noticed the complete emptiness of the place. Instead of feeling alone, this soothed him, and he took steps forward, dimly registering wet sand squidging between his toes.
It wasn't long before he reached the shore. Water lapped at his ankles, soaking his rolled up pants. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a small twinkle buried in the ground. He bent, long fingers scrabbling through the damp sand. When at last his hand closed around a small, cold object, he heard someone call his name.
He straightened, and in the distance, where he had first stood, was a slim, white-clad figure. The figure waved, their short blonde hair moving in the wind.
A surge of incredible joy burst in his heart, and he completely forgot about the object in his hand.
He started walking forward, then stopped, and with a rare laugh, ran forward. He stumbled a few times, but he didn't care. He hadn't been this carefree in years. He laughed again, tears of happiness coming to his eyes.
He was so close! He reached out with his free hand to grasp her sleeve.
Kana!
Just as his fingers were about to close over soft cotton, she slipped back. His eyes widened in surprise and he tried again.
No use; she was too far. Tears filled his eyes again, but this time they weren't of joy. He choked on the lump that was rising in his throat and cried out.
The woman shrugged helplessly, mouthing an apology. He called her name again, and she his.
Repeatedly, sadly, she shouted.
" Hatori! Hatori! Hatori!…"
" HATORI!"
He jolted up, blinking wildly. Worried mahogany eyes peered at him.
" Hatori! Akito – he's – " The little bunny bit his lip.
Hatori shook his head lightly. He must have fallen asleep. He stared in distaste at his crumpled suit and his messy desk, noting the papers drifting to the floor.
Shaking his head again, he turned to the young boy before him. " Show me." He ordered.
The blond boy nodded, and spun around, running away. Hatori started to follow, but a pain sparked in his right hand. He opened his hand to see a small golden shell encrusted with wet sand in the centre of his pain. A sharp edge had cut him.
He blinked, confusion and disbelief swirling in his mind. This couldn't – it wasn't!
" Hatori!"
The doctor looked up. The bunny was down the hallway, his eyes filled with urgency.
Hatori pursed his lips and shoved the shell in his pocket, putting it out of his mind. He ran briskly after the rabbit. There were more important things to think about…
-
They burst into Akito's rooms, and headed straight for the bedchamber.
Hatori peered in, and instantly was completely alert. The young Sohma head knelt on all fours, with one pale-fingered hand grasping his yukata together. Horrid, vicious coughing came from between thin lips, and sticky blood splattered on the floor. The boy's thin, fragile body shook tremendously with each intake and violent exhale of air.
Hatori was by Akito in a flash, placing a calming hand on the boy's back and reaching for his stethoscope. Quickly hooking the instrument on his ears he placed the end piece against Akito's frail chest. Ah, there it was. The distinct sound of liquid sloshing around in the young man's lungs. Hatori listened, and frowned. There was more liquid than normal. He slipped the stethoscope earpieces off, letting the medical instrument hang around his neck.
He reached for the medicinal bag Momiji had so thoughtfully brought over and rifled through its contents. In no time at all he'd pulled out a syringe and a small bottle. Rapidly filling the needle with the clear liquid, he yanked up Akito's sleeve and jabbed the needle deep into a large blue vein on the inside of his elbow.
It wasn't long before Akito's hacking coughs had lessened, and stilled. The boy breathed quietly through his nose, and so shallowly it was amazing he still got the required oxygen. His wide slate eyes darted around nervously.
Hatori gently carried Akito to his bed, and ordered a few nearby maids to fetch the oxygen mask. The frightened servants scampered off, and Hatori got to work.
He set up on of his more complicated instruments, and prepared an anaesthetic. It wouldn't be long before the reflex-suppressor drug he'd given Akito wore off, and before then he needed to drain the boy's lungs.
Locating the small vein as earlier, he injected the anaesthetic, and waited impatiently for the oxygen mask and machine. Finally, as Akito's eyelids were fluttering shut from the latest drug, the maids returned.
Hatori briskly took the equipment from them, and wheeled the machine to next to Akito's bed. He quickly fitted the clear mask over the drugged boy's nose and mouth, and started the machine.
When Hatori was sure everything was prepared and running smoothly, he pulled down Akito's yukata and with a scalpel, made an incision above his lung. He expertly threaded a clear tube through the cut, and started draining.
Letting the machine work itself, he stood and walked over to the wall where Momiji stood, scared.
" Momiji, what happened?" He inquired roughly.
" I – I'm not really sure, Ha'ri." The half-German boy stuttered. " The maid called me. She said he had been staring out the window when his breath hitched and he started coughing." Momiji stared fearfully at the unconscious boy. " Ha'ri, is he alright?"
" Hmm." Hatori murmured, absently staring at Akito. The clear tube was full of a thick, red glutinous liquid that sludged slowly down.
Wait. Hatori's head snapped up. Red? He crossed the room quickly, grasping the tube. He'd expected water, mucus, but blood? This was more serious than the average lung-clog. If there was internal bleeding as serious as this, he needed to locate the torn part quickly.
He turned the draining machine to its maximum setting, hoping the blood would drain faster than it was spilling out.
Long, agonizing minutes passed, where what seemed like gallons of blood must have drained. Hatori's face was impassive, but his hands white and his body tense.
Finally, finally the tube began to clear, the blood ending in thin trickles that washed the sides of the tube.
Hatori replaced the stethoscope's earpieces, and once again pressed the end piece to Akito's chest. Good. Almost no fluid. Doing a few quick tests, he realized the damaged part was where a bit of the heart and lung had broken from being rubbed together, and the blood from the heart had rushed into the lung.
Hatori adjusted his glasses, and prepared himself for hours of hard surgery.
Really, Akito. So troublesome.
Hatori sighed, leaning back and slipping a cigarette between his lips. His previously bloodstained surgeon's hand slid into his coat pocket, searching for his lighter. Instead, his fingers touch a small, cold, grainy object.
The memory suddenly came back to him, and he drew the object out, almost afraid. He dropped it on the table before him, quickly wiping sand off his hand onto his pants.
He stared at the object, dimly noting his jacket would need to be cleaned. Yes, there it was. A conch shell made of gold, about the size of his thumb. Most of the sand had fallen away by now, into his coat pocket, but some residue still remained on the shell. Absently, he reached forward and brushed the sand away. The action changed from a light dusting to a full-out scrubbing, and he eventually stood, bringing the shell with him to the washroom so he could clean it.
Menial tasks like these took his mind off the secret thoughts he didn't dare dwell on too long. Thoughts of guilt, regret, loneliness and depression. Thoughts of…Kana.
Hatori turned off the faucet, staring at the wet, glistening shell. The previously suppressed bewilderedness broke free, and swirled in his head until he was dizzy.
How was this possible? You couldn't remove things from dreams. It wasn't physically possible to take something immaterial, something that was a figment of his imagination, out of his mind. Hatori lightly touched his forehead, as if he expected a gaping hole in his head.
The doctor slumped against the bathroom wall, trying to rationalize this. Maybe he had had the shell earlier…and it had worked itself in his dream. Hatori bit his lip. If so, wouldn't he remember the shell? Honestly, it was a bit of a stretch, but it was the only thing he could think of.
He stared at the gleaming shell, and a thought came to him. A memory of something he'd done when he was small, with Shigure and Ayame. Hesitantly, he raised the shell to his ear. He closed his eyes, waiting for the soothing sound of the ocean.
" Hatori! Hatori! Hatori!"
The doctor's eyes snapped open, and in a panic, threw the shell as far away from him as possible. It clattered into the bathtub, and he clutched the door for support, gasping slightly.
Kana – Kana's voice! Inside the shell? No, no, no. It was just his imagination, just a memory from the dream. Hatori raised his head and stared in the direction of the shell, but he was too afraid to try again.
He straightened, and abruptly stalked out, slamming the bathroom door. He strode into his room, determined on sleeping and forgetting the events of the day. They were only his imagination. This entire thing could have been a dream!
Hours passed, until it was finally night. At about twelve o'clock, a ray of moonshine streamed through the bathroom window, and hit the abandoned shell in the tub. As soon as the light struck the golden conch, a note sounded, like a high C on a flute. Clear, impossibly pure water spilled from the inside of the shell, pooling around it and filling the tub.
And Hatori slept on.
-
He awoke with something warm pressed to his chest. Groaning, he pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking down. Familiar blonde hair tickled his bare chest, and an arm was slung around his waist. Hatori frowned, pushing the blonde hair back. His breath caught in his throat.
The woman shifted, pressing herself closer to the shocked doctor. She slowly opened her eyes, hazy chocolate gazing into Hatori's pale green. She smiled. " …Tori-kun."
" K – Kana?" Hatori couldn't believe his eyes.
" Yes? Hmm…are you all right? You don't look too good." Kana's brow furrowed, and she pressed her cool palm against his forehead. Her hand was soft and refreshing against his fevered skin.
Hatori jerked back, pressing himself against the wall next to the bed. " What are you doing here? You're married. Your memory? What – " He broke off, his eyes wide.
Kana frowned gently, crawling over. " Are you alright? Of course I'm married! To you!" She held out her hand.
Hatori stared. There was a diamond-studded gold band around her ring finger. On impulse, he looked down at his own hand. A similar ring encircled his finger.
" What?" He repeated weakly. " But…your memory…"
" What about it? Hatori, I think you drank too much at Ayame's party." Kana shook her head, wrapping an arm around his waist.
" And how is this possible? How can you hug me?" Hatori exclaimed, slinking away instinctively.
" That must have been some liquor! Don't you remember? Akito died two years ago. The curse is temporarily suspended, as there is no head of the family yet. And we got married!" Kana laughed.
Hatori blinked. And sleep cleared from his mind. He remembered. Akito had died of a heart attack, and he and Kana's love had finally been brought out into the open.
The doctor smiled, remembering how happy he'd been on his wedding day. Kana had looked beautiful in her mother's gown. It had also been that afternoon when Haru got together with Rin. Hatori's smile broadened. The two were engaged. Ha. Haru had always been a go-getter.
The dragon's look changed to one of contentment. Yes, Akito had finally set them free. Hatori hoped the young man's soul was somewhere warm and safe.
But now…Hatori turned to Kana and pulled her close, feeling weariness take over him again. He smiled at his wife, and kissed her gently.
" You've had nightmares often." Kana remarked. Hatori nodded and leaned on her, his eyes sliding shut. Before he fell asleep, he heard Kana whisper.
" I love you…Tori-kun."
-
Slowly, his mind rose, freeing itself from the webs of sleep. Blurred jade eyes blinked to focus on the nearby digital clock's display. 7:53.
He turned, looking for the warmth of his wife. He didn't find it. Hatori started, suddenly awake. He sat up, and found himself on the futon in his room. He looked across the room. The bed was untouched.
The doctor furrowed his brow, confused. Where was Kana? Where was his…wife? Hatori grasped his now loose tie and stared down at his rumpled suit. Earlier…he had been shirtless. He suddenly glanced down at his left hand. A freezing chill crept up his spine. His ring finger was bare.
In one sudden motion, he jumped up, and in quick, angry strides, crossed to his closet. He yanked the door open, the wheels of the folding door squealing in protest. His eyes frantically searched the inside, but saw only dark suits and starched shirts. He pushed the door shut violently, and stormed out of the bedroom.
Hatori was like a man gone wild. He roughly searched every room, ransacking its contents in search of something, anything that signified a female presence. Doors were slammed, knocking pictures off walls. Entire drawers were yanked out, their insides dumped to the ground. For an hour, the rooms were filled with clanking, banging, and all other assorted noises.
At long last, he flopped onto the couch in his living room. His limbs ached; his hands were raw from scrabbling, scratching at things hard and unyielding. His head hurt, and his eyes and throat burned from unshed tears.
It wasn't – there hadn't - …It had been another dream. Another figment. Another painful hope. But gods – Hatori groaned – gods, it had seemed so real! He could still remember her lavender perfume…
What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he let go? She'd moved on; and so should he. Staying like this would only pain him.
Hatori's head lolled forward, the tears finally coming. They rolled down his face in a flood, staining his shirt and blurring the world before his eyes. However, before he lost himself too deeply into the haze of despair, his cell phone rang.
He snatched at it without looking, fumbling clumsily to open it one handed. He pressed the phone to his ear, gulping and mumbling a greeting.
" Hatori-san. Akito-sama has woken up. He requests your presence." Hatori dimly registered the dry, crisp voice of the old woman who served Akito wholeheartedly. She was a cruel, prejudiced person, bowing only to Akito's whim.
" I'll be there." Hatori said as clearly as possible, rubbing away his tears. He snapped his cell phone shut and strode into his room, determined to change and wash his face.
This was good. This was normal. Hatori could once more absorb himself into his work; become that stoic, stern doctor.
He could once more bury his heart.
-
The door of Hatori's rooms finally clicked shut, and a slim, dripping wet hand grabbed the frame of the bathroom door. The hand used the door to pull itself from the water in the bathtub, the liquid sticking to it like melted plastic. Finally, with a loud suction sound, long slender legs pulled free and feet landed with a thump on the floor.
The fully formed entity in Hatori's bathroom was very white, slender, and dripping with that same clear water. They would've been considered tall if they were a child, and their flaxen hair stuck to the back of their neck.
The child-like thing turned and gracefully scooped a small golden shell from the bathtub. Moving its head to look in the mirror, a thin smile formed below cold jade eyes.
The rosy mouth opened, and the first words they ever spoke were formed.
" First, I need some clothes…"
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