Take Two - Elucidation
"The reverse side also has a reverse side." –Japanese Proverb
Night had fallen.
The Sohma household was fading into Dreaming, and the warm air and sultry serenity of the night stole over their dozy minds as each light went out, giving in to the darkness.
All but one.
Sohma Hatori was standing in the doorway, a spent cigarette hanging from his lips, the screens thrown back to welcome in the peaceful night. Inside, soft lights illuminated the dragon's humble living quarters; outside, the moon fought in vain to cast her light through the thick cloud cover overhead. The crickets were chirping softly.
The world was dark.
Sohma Shigure was smiling, as was his wont, and reclining easily on Hatori's sofa.
Shigure had many different smiles, each hiding a particular emotion, or memory, or secret: each was its own unique façade of affability.
This particular smile was hiding a secret he'd been keeping for some time now, and an emotion that he hadn't confided in anyone, not even his beloved cousins.
No, not even Hatori knew exactly what this smile meant.
Only Shigure.
He had kept the secret remarkably well.
But Shigure knew, as his smile changed, that the secret would soon be out, and then the fun would begin.
It would be a game of win all or lose all.
And Shigure was willing to bet on the latter.
But for the moment he was content to just lie back and wait. Why go looking for trouble when he can let it come to him? After all, who knows? Perhaps he won't have to play at all; perhaps the secret will remain so forever, forever his and his alone.
…Then again, what was the fun in that? Sharing is caring, after all.
So Shigure smiled, and as he smiled, he spoke:
"You know, we really suck at this. This business of falling in love with someone and taking care of them."
This statement took Hatori by surprise, though he couldn't tell you why.
"What makes you say that?" he asked.
Shigure raised an eyebrow at his cousin. "You of all people ought to know, Ha'ri."
Hatori flinched.
Shigure was by his side in a second.
He took Hatori's hand in his own.
"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for," he murmured into Hatori's ear, coming as close as he dared to his distressed cousin.
And Hatori was distressed, though years of practice had made him very good at hiding it.
Because what Shigure had said was true, all of it; and yes, Hatori should know. Kana, Akito, Shigure… yes, he couldn't even figure out Shigure anymore.
He really did suck at taking care of those he loved…
Shigure was talking again, quietly, soothingly.
Strange.
"…not what I meant to bring up, I of all people should know it's not a matter to take lightly…"
"So what did you mean to say, Shigure?" Hatori interrupted softly.
Shigure looked at him, dark slate grey eyes almost sad, almost pleading, almost angry.
"What are we, Hatori?" he whispered. "Really? Why is it… why is it that we can't do anything for the ones we love?"
Hatori sighed.
"I'm really not the one to be asking, Shigure," he said bitterly, "but for the sake of conversation, what are you talking about, specifically?"
"What do you think?" Shigure asked, just as bitter. "Our illustrious God."
Hatori nodded. "Our God."
Shigure leaned his forehead on the other man's shoulder, murmured into the soft fabric of his shirt, "I love her, Ha'ri; you know that, she knows that, even I know it, and that's saying something. Why is it that I can never make her happy anymore? What is it that Kureno has that I don't??"
The last sentence was said with almost as much venom as the God herself would spit at her subordinates.
"Have you asked her?" Hatori queried.
Shigure barked a laugh full of painful cynicism. "Like I'd get away with my life."
"You're one of her favourites, you know; you could probably get away with it."
"Still?"
"Still."
Shigure eyed his cousin calculatingly. At length, he asked, "When was the last time you saw Akito, Ha'ri?"
The doctor thought.
"Tuesday; she had a slight cough that evening and I went to give her a check up."
"After the dinner," Shigure murmured. "How was she then?"
Hatori didn't even bother to pretend Shigure was inquiring about the God's health. "Irritable, though that's to be expected."
"More than usual?"
"No more than I'd expect," Hatori replied firmly. "She was ill, and the weather was humid."
"Maa, but Hatori's so forgiving," Shigure murmured, resting his forehead to his cousin's shoulder again and closing his eyes.
Hatori had nothing to say to that.
So Shigure spoke again: "…was Kureno there?"
A shrewd glance down at his cousin, then looking out at the night again: "Yes."
Shigure made a small noise of an indeterminable emotion, something between pain, anger and annoyance.
"What does she see in him, Ha'ri?" he asked. "Why does her bed always smell like him?"
Hatori had no answer, and this bothered him.
Even more than that was this vulnerable, almost pining Shigure, literally leaning on him to stay upright. This was most unusual, the dog having always been so sure of what he was doing in the past. And now he was relying almost entirely, it felt, on Hatori to give him strength to stand. What had brought him to this? Surely there was more to it that Akito's anger; Shigure must surely be used to that by now…
Or was he just keeping up a façade as well, one that kept even Hatori out?
The thought saddened him.
And then there was the question of why Shigure had waited so long before coming to him. Did he not trust his counsel any longer? Love had never been an awkward topic for them to discuss; did he not feel comfortable around him any longer? Why did he wait until he was nearly at breaking point before finally conceding and turning to Hatori for support this time?
Did it matter?
"Shigure," Hatori murmured, "tell me. Just tell me everything. What is it that's making you so envious all of a sudden?"
"All of a sudden?"
And it hurt even more that Hatori hadn't known.
"Just Akito?"
"What else?"
Pain.
"…She loves you, Shigure."
And pain of a different kind.
"She loves you, always. Kureno… is different. I think… she keeps him close because she is afraid of losing him, more than anyone else."
"If that's the case then what does it matter if she loves me or not?" came Shigure's embittered voice. "What does it matter if I love her back? She won't show it, won't let me show it…"
"It's not a matter of love, Shigure," Hatori said. "Her love for you is very different from her love for Kureno. He… you said so yourself, didn't you? A long time ago. That Kureno is different, that he feels… separate from the rest of the jyuunishi. Is that not a reason to keep him close?"
"No," Shigure said sullenly.
Hatori sighed, turned to the night for counsel. It whispered back at him with a soft summer breeze and the gentle chirping of crickets, with heavy warmth and dark covered skies.
And Hatori found no answers in the darkness, no explanation in the clouded Heavens, so he said this instead:
"Perhaps, Akito is just scared. She has always been scared, Shigure, and sickly, and young at heart. She is still a little child inside, unsure of how to be. Growing up knowing that these people around you, they are your pawns, makes a child authoritative, yet Akito has also grown up with lies and shadows, making her unsure, and suspicious. So she clings to what she knows is real, holds on desperately to those she trusts, to those who swear their allegiance to her.
"And it has never really let her grow up.
"Akito loves you, Shigure, but she doesn't like the way you show it. You play with her, you give her lies and tricks, the things she hates and fears and fights to ward away by keeping her jyuunishi close. You defeat that purpose, and she knows it, but not how to counter nor deal with it except with rage."
Hatori took a breath.
"And so perhaps you should be more forgiving too, Shigure."
The dog looked up at his cousin, surprised at the almost-accusation in his words and voice.
Hatori looked back dispassionately, grey-green eyes giving him away.
Shigure smiled, pushed himself up to touch his nose lightly to Hatori's.
"Perhaps," he breathed. "Perhaps. Maybe… Hatori would teach me how?"
The breath caught in Hatori's throat, and he turned his head sharply by instinct.
Shigure just smiled his smile, and led Hatori into the bedroom.
:: sonryz ::
Woo-oo-oo! Angstish? How'd I do? HariGure conversations are kinda hard to grasp sometimes, aren't they? (or am I just thick?)
In relation to the quote, the conversation was meant to go Shigure on Akito, Shigure on Akito on Kureno, Hatori on Akito on Shigure, and finally Shigure on Akito and Hatori: flip-flip-flip-flip-flip. Not so sure it came out quite like that, but it's good enough, I suppose. PLEASE, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Really, I need to figure this out; any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated.
And if it wasn't obvious enough, the lemon is coming up next chappie. Please forgive me for its patheticness---
