This is my first Fruits Basket fic and it probably shows. I hope the characters seem somewhat...them.
"You're late," Hatori reprimanded flatly with his back to the door.
"Ne, Ha-san. How can I be late when it's a surprise visit?"
Hearing the familiar, but unexpected voice, the dragon turned to see his cousin leaning against the door frame. Even in the dim light and his poor sight, he could make out the cheerful expression on Shigure's face. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to visit you, of course!" Shigure replied, his voice matching the annoyingly chipper demeanor. "You never come by the house anymore. One would think I need to be deathly ill to warrant a visit," he added with mock sorrow.
"I have to go to work," Hatori stated curtly in reply.
"So why're you sitting here in the dark?" asked Shigure. Without waiting for an answer or permission, the dog walked into the room and shoved the half drawn curtains aside, letting the sunlight stream in. When the rays hit Hatori's face, he winced as his exposed left eye protested the brightness. "There, much better," Shigure declared. If he noticed Hatori's obvious discomfort at the light, he didn't say. Unlike Ayame's tendency to be flippant about issues to the point of actually fixating on them, Shigure tended to steamroll over serious matters like they were weeds.
"Did you see Gen on your way in?" Hatori asked. "He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago."
At the mention of the barber, Shigure studied his cousin's face. "Hm, you could use a haircut. It's gotten longer than mine."
The past month Hatori had conducted most of his clinical business from his house. Before her departure, Kana had done a superb job of setting everything in order to the point where the dragon rarely had to go to his office. It suited him just fine, really as he barely had patients outside of the Sohma residence. The last four weeks of near isolation had been numbing. Preferable. But today Hatori had an appointment with a patient that had been scheduled months ago. Before….everything. He couldn't reschedule it as much as he'd rather not go into the office. But he also needed to look a little more presentable than he did now.
"He's late," Hatori stated again, glancing at his clock. Normally he might have given a short sigh but instead he only robotically stood to leave for the office as he was.
"I can cut your hair," Shigure offered, brightly.
Hatori narrowed his eyes, the earlier listlessness now replaced with a suspicious glare. "You're not coming anywhere near me with scissors."
"Aw, come on, Ha-san" the dog whined. "I'm a master with scissors. I use them all the time."
"To cut paper."
"Please?"
"No."
"I never knew you were so vain, Ha-san," Shigure responded slyly.
"It's not vanity," Hatori snapped. "I don't want you to cut an ear off." Despite the retort, Shigure looked unfazed and picked up the small shears from Hatori's desk. "Forget it, Shigure."
"Ha-san's a coward, Ha-san's a coward!" Shigure chanted.
A few minutes later, a slightly bruised Shigure cut a lock of the dragon's hair.
"Hurry up," Hatori ordered from his bowed position. "I'm going to be late."
"You have plenty of time. You can't rush art, Hatori," Shigure replied. "As I tell my editor all the time."
The dragon heaved a sigh. "If it takes you as long to cut hair as it does to write a page, I'll be here until I'm 90."
"Careful," Shigure warned. "Don't squirm or I might…oops!"
"What do you mean oops?" Hatori demanded as he heard the ominous sound of a very large snip.
"Ah, ha, nothing. It's…fine…"
Bolting up from his chair, Hatori threw off the towel from his shoulders and went to the nearest mirror. The right side of his head had been cut adequately enough. But it was a good two inches shorter than the left side of his hair that was now flopping forward, over his damaged eye. He blinked at the lopsided lengths. Oddly, through the curtain of hair, the brightness of the room seemed less harsh.
"I'm not done yet," Shigure explained, rapidly with distinct fear in his voice. "I can even it out."
Hatori opened his mouth to say it was fine when he saw the clock. His appointment had begun about ten minutes ago. Hatori, who'd never been late for anything in his life felt the mix of anger and panic a punctual person felt at tardiness. "Damn dog, you've made me late!"
As the dragon hurried to leave his house, he missed the satisfied look on Shigure's face. While the writer usually feared an angered Hatori, it was nice to see his cousin be something other than lethargic as he'd been in the past month. And Shigure thought the haircut suited Hatori. As he knew it would.
THE END