Kureno swallowed hard. It was frightening to him to see Akito-sama in such a state, broken down and sobbing, but he had to be strong. What… she had done was intrinsically wrong, at a deep humanitarian level. Rin was already sick; what had happened did not help.
And yet, he felt for her.
"I'm sorry," he murmured softly, bending down to gather her up.
She sobbed and grabbed weakly at his shirt, curling into him in a way that made her look even smaller. "He said… Father said…" Another wave of sobs. "He promised…!"
"I know," he said in a reassuring tone. "I know."
---
It was his fault, he knew that much, but the gray haze he had to keep his mind shrouded in didn't allow further exploration of that thought. The edges of his vision were red, but it was fading, if slowly. There would be no switching personalities today.
He was well aware he would end up being a persona non grata at the main house for days, if not weeks, but he was prepared. Yes, he had had the foresight to plan for it, however dimly and half-heartedly.
Why?
Because preparing for it meant that he knew it was going to happen.
Look where that got me, he thought, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Absolutely nowhere. I'm sorry, Rin…
Head stuffed up an introspective cloud, he almost missed her lying there, on the road, but he just barely caught the sight of her hastily chopped-off hair. The corner of his mouth twitched up in an almost-smile of the kind he reserved specifically for her, when nobody else was around, and headed towards where she lay half-conscious, totally unaware of his uncharacteristically optimistic expression.
---
In his 'office' at his house, Shigure jerked his head up, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. "It broke," he said aloud.
Having been passing by, Yuki stuck his head in, raising a light eyebrow. "What broke?"
Shigure smiled his fake, overly enthusiastic smile, mask perfectly back in place. "Nothing." He sighed dramatically, placing a hand on his half-bare chest and adopted a mockingly somber expression. "I am simply becoming senile in my old age."
Yuki made a little "ugh" sound, rolled his eye, and continued back down the hall.
After holding the look for a few extra seconds just to be safe, Shigure opened his eyes and smirked. "Who's next, I wonder," he muttered, shuffling his papers into a loose pile. "I do hope it's not quite time for game over. Too much fun… Right, Torii?"
"Don't push him too hard, it will reflect badly on me by association." Hatori stepped forward from where he had been leaning, arms crossed, against the wall, shadows concealing his presence.
"You can't make me," sang Shigure.
Hatori stared indignantly at his back, eyes half-closed, for a moment before turning to leave. "If you'll excuse me, Shigure, I have a patient to attend to."
As soon as he was gone, Shigure huffed and stuffed his papers in a drawer. "He's no fun," he whined childishly, resting his head on his arms on his desk.
