"I didn't take you for a fan of Shigure's novels."

Hatori nearly jumped out of his skin at her voice, Rika's grin wide and languid at catching the man off guard. She stepped closer, plucking the volume out of his hands.

"In fact, I distinctly recall you saying they were gratuitous smut that should've never should have seen the light of day."

His mouth gaped like a guppy, clearly scrambling for words that refused to come. It was cruel but she was enjoying herself as she ran her thumb over the spine of the novel that held Shigure's penname. That she recognised the novels from their cover alone was a superfluous detail, one natural given she had been living with the man in question for months now.

After a long-drawn moment of Rika delighting in his silence, he eventually gathered his voice. A shame really.

"Rika." He cleared his throat. Straightened his spine. She saw the mantle of responsible doctor settle back on his shoulders and almost regretted ever interrupting him. He'd been relaxed. Now he was – wary. "What're you doing here?"

She gestured to the books she was holding to her chest. Shigure's book, she slotted back into the empty space that it had been occupying. Despite their continued strides towards friendship, she hadn't yet shared the additional study she had been taking towards her university entrance exams. It wasn't shame so much as the fear that if she told him, then failed, she'd have to live with the awareness that he knew. On the other hand, she thought, if he knew then he might be able to help her prepare. It wasn't as though a nursing programme was all that far from medical school after all.

"I had some things to pick up for school." His gaze flickered to the books a moment and back to her face.

"English?"

"It's my weakest subject but I need it if -," Less than five minutes and she had already stumbled over herself. Rika couldn't put it into words but Hatori inspired an honesty in her. Trust was a large part of that. For all that she kept going back to Ren Sohma, Rika still believed the wealth of her knowledge would come from Hatori as and when the man was ready to share. Ren was just - a means to an end. Even then, much of the time, she wasn't a particularly useful means.

"If-?"

"If I'm going to pass entrance exams." Hatori's brow furrowed.

"Don't you have a whole year? Your grades weren't that bad last time we spoke -"

"I'm actually moving up my exams. With the right references from teachers and good enough grades on the day, I could be graduating high school next spring." He blinked. For the second time since she'd snuck up on him, she'd rendered him speechless. Hatori shifted his feet, buried a hand in his pocket. The doctor cloak shifted and the stance left behind was more casual than she was used to. Rika liked the way his shoulders softened. Expression light.

"Have you told Shigure and the others?" Rika inhaled through her mouth. Out through her nose. Failed to meet his eye.

"I'll tell them once I know for sure." Her teeth worried her lip and he reached for her. Tapped at her chin with a featherlight touch.

"That'll cut your skin," It sounded less like a warning than simply him observing her and Rika's skin tingled in the wake of his touch. His hands were always chilled she'd noticed, "You should tell them. They'll want to support you and April isn't that far away if you succeed."

Rika grimaced, good mood stumbling.

"I was actually considering an autumn matriculation. Finding accommodation is difficult, and then I'd need to make sure I finish my diploma on a strong note too. If I mess that up, then I'd need to do a preparatory course before autumn anyways so -"

"You won't."

"Huh?"

"You won't mess it up. I can tell." All at once there was a swelling relief in her gut that she'd confessed to him, if only for the look on his face. His surety wasn't warranted. In some ways, it wasn't even needed. Rika had spent weeks mulling over what Mayuko had suggested, studying and testing out the various plans thrown her way. In spite of that, it was nice to have the vocalised support. To hear someone, anyone, say that she was as capable and sturdy as her teacher seemed to believe. It was especially gratifying to hear it from Hatori. "Have you decided on the subjects you're choosing for your examinations?"

Rika nodded. Ticked the titles off on her fingers.

"English obviously. Japanese. Biology, physics, chemistry and mathematics. Ethics and contemporary social studies." Her face had screwed up in concentration as she tried to recount her game plan for the exams, suspecting she was definitely missing one or two of the lessons but that didn't matter so much.

"That's a lot of sciences. Are you comfortable with them?" There was an edge to his question that she couldn't put her finger on. Rika nodded.

"While I was in the Dojo in Okinawa, I helped do an afterschool program. Master Chiba told me it was to make sure that the kids who came along to the classes had some place to go, but I think she just wanted to give me an excuse to step up. I hated it at first, but I was good with the sciences. I even helped patched people up sometimes." She laughed. "Not as good as you obviously. It was just that it was easier to understand the gravity of an injury if I knew what was below the surface too."

She hadn't really thought about Master Chiba in a while, but the woman had been a pistol wrapped in a small casing. Rika was certain there were still bruises lingering about from the hits she took when Chiba was on a roll. Other things had definitely lingered. Her comprehension for how to deal with difficult kids for one. That had come in wonders trying to negotiate her place with Hiro the last few weeks.

"Although I didn't originally go to my second year of highschool and wasn't properly learning, I did go to the odd cram school to keep my science grades up. I've contacted them for results too. Figure it's worth a shot."

Hatori seemed dazed and Rika's cheeks flushed. She'd been overrunning the conversation. She began to apologise, but he laughed. A kind smile lingered after the laughter faded. He rested his shoulder against the nearest bookshelf, the fabric of his suit obscuring the vision of Shigure's novel.

"I'm just surprised. You've been quiet lately. I thought you were dwelling over Sohma business -," He paused, "I'm almost glad I was wrong."

"Oh, I've been thinking about that too," She corrected him cheerfully, "I just - I don't know. I figured, being a Sohma doesn't have to define me. It's why we moved away. Why dad moved me back. Since the accident, it's just been an obsession at times to try and figure out where I fit into this world with you all. Of how I make amends for things." Her tongue darted out, wet her lips, "Don't get me wrong. I want a part. There's things I still want to understand but I can't have that be the sole thing I have. I want to be more than Rika Hayashi or Rika Sohma, or whoever I was or will be once I know the full truth of it all.

"Last April, I agreed to come back because it was important to my dad for me to get the high school experience but I've done that already. I made the friends. I found my way back to martial arts. I wanted to be here to get to university. If I can make that happen faster, and it's me doing something proper for me, then that's a good thing, right?"

Rika had looked away as she spoke, the truths spilling outward like the tide on the shore. Nothing short of a heavy rock wall could've stopped them and even then, it would've struggled. Hatori, for all his pretence, was not a heavy rock wall. He was a man. An ocean. The beach on a sunny day. She blinked and regarded him again. A handsome man. With a look on his face like she'd bundled all his best days together and gifted them to him with a bright bow. A look like that was dangerous. Unnerving.

"You're not the kid I remember, are you?" He asked finally, as though he both cautious and excited to hear her answer. Rika snorted without grace.

"I haven't been a kid for a really long time Hatori." Which sounded like a cliche. Was a cliche. It didn't mean it wasn't steeped in truth. She'd stopped being a child the day she'd left Tokyo all those years ago, carrying an invisible burden on her shoulders and slowly losing the bedrock of her childhood. Her actions in the wake of the accident had been rash. Weak. From them, she'd become stronger. Surer of herself.

Telling everyone she cared for that she was leaving Kaibara high so soon was going to be horrendously difficult, but so too would be a year of moving through the paces. Spinning wheels wouldn't give her back her memories any faster or make amends in her place. Having a focus had put Rika on a trajectory she didn't wish to stop or slow down with, not least because it meant thinking about more than the complicated hierarchy of the Sohma family. It pulled her out of her own head. Given how much time she had spent within it since her father had died, it was a relief to feel something more than confusion or guilt.

Cheeks growing warmer under the intensity of Hatori's look, Rika tried to steer the conversation back to something safer.

"And anyways, if I get in - it's Tokyo. I can still come home at the weekends. I might not have classes every day so I could be here for dinner sometimes too. It won't be goodbye. Not like -" Trying to convince herself that leaving was the hardest part, but really - she wasn't leaving. Just. Growing.

There was a dawning comprehension that maybe she was trying to convince Hatori of this fact. Something he seemed to recognise in her face. Reaching out, he tugged the books from her hand. She relinquished them easier than she should've.

"How about we go get some coffee? I've not got anything on right now and who knows -," He turned the books over, eyes widening in surprise but recovering quickly. When he looked up and met her eyes, the smile he bore was too gentle to be anything human. "Maybe there's a tip or two I can give you for nursing?"

/

Hatori's laugh was sudden and brilliant, the girl sitting between his legs pinning him with a scowl.

"You're not meant to be laughing at me," Rika pouted, crumpling up the piece of paper in her hands, "I know I suck."

"No, no!" He protested, trying to discipline his expression, "You made an excellent attempt."

Her bottom lip jutted out dangerously, and not for the first time Hatori wondered how he had ended up here. Since their first meeting Rika had been back at frequent intervals and while he attempted to resist the pull of the child - each time he found himself sitting with her for hours on end.

His father liked it, the time Hatori entertained Rika freeing him up to see to other matters but there was wariness there too. Akito had proven herself volatile since Akira's death and any word that Rika was being treated with kindness could bring wrath down on all of them. So it became a game. How long can we spend with this child - how kind can we be - how much can we give her without anyone knowing?

Piecing together the circumstances of their young patient's appearances had been slow. The main household didn't accept the girl as a true Sohma bur beyond that, Akito was holding some desperate and cruel grudge against the child. Rika herself seemed to endure it quietly, and if that wasn't reason enough for Hatori to believe that the bond existed within her too - he'd have eaten his father's old physicians coat. Murky stains and all.

"Okay," He backtracked, "It's a terrible one but you're learning. You can't be good at everything right away."

"But you are!" Hatori snorted.

"I really am not."

"Well 'Gure says you are. And Aya." His body went rigidly still, hands ceasing in the fold he'd been helping her straighten across the paper flower she'd been butchering. A part of him, some tiny selfish piece, had hoped that the others hadn't met her. That whatever little bubble of quiet companionship he had found with this strangely insightful child could be his, and his alone. After all, Shigure's love of Akito was the worst kept secret and Ayame only loved himself. Why should he have to share her with them too? Working to keep his tone nonchalant, Hatori asked.

"When did you meet those two?"

"They came by with homework for you. Your dad took it but they said hi to me too. I answered your biology questions by the way." He should've argued that point but he was stuck on the other two members of his trio and their presence in his home. Wounded too that Rika had rebutted his question with her infuriating pragmatism.

"Did they know you were here before that?"

"I don't know. I guess. They brought stuff from my mom." Another crushing blow, the idea of Kimiko entrusting those idiots over him. "Hari I can't do this!"

She thrust the paper away from her, leaning back into his chest with arms crossed and chin tucked downwards.

"Hey, come now." Hatori chided gently, mind twisting from his own selfish panic to the more pressing matter of the fragile state of her confidence. "You know, I'm pretty bad at sports."

"I've never seen you do sports. You could be lying."

Hatori tucked a hand under her chin and tilted her head back until she could see his face and he hers.

"What did I promise you?" She sighed with all the injured indignance an eight-year-old could muster.

"That you'd always tell me the truth." She forced his hand away with a shove, picking up the messy sheet of paper and spread it flat against her knees. "I bet I could kick your ass at martial arts then."

He couldn't help it. He laughed. Besides, it wasn't his place to chide her language. Part of him liked those surprises.

"I'm sure you could."

"Someday I'll show you how to fight too. To be stronger and better and then no one can bully anyone anymore. I'll be a wall. A crane." She paused in her work, tracing the lines on the orange and black paper in her hands, "A whole tiger. A whole tiger that fixes people and helps them be strong when they have to be, and kind when they should be."

He didn't say what he knew to be true. That for as long as Akito reaped some kind of power out of knocking Rika down again and again, no one would have any ability to change that. Not Kimiko. Not Hatori. Not even Rika herself.

Instead, he rested his chin on the top of her head and reached around to help her smooth out one of the wrinkled edges she had made. Instead, he let himself briefly hope.

"I look forward to that day. You'll be the fiercest foe of them all."