"Tori, my head feels terrible." Shigure whined, pulling the blanket he was carting higher to his chest. Hatori had his back to him but he didn't need to see the other man's face to recognise an exaggerated eye roll.

"That's your brain simply trying to comprehend its own stupidity." From the kitchen was a snigger he recognised as Rika's. Shigure pouted at his friend.

"You're going to stab me many times again aren't you?" It was accusatory, Shigure rubbing at his arm in preparation for the torture he was expecting. This time Rika outright laughed and the man turned his attention to the door. "I heard that!"

"You were meant to! Stop being a baby." Her disembodied voice was followed by the sounds of movement in the kitchen and he turned a pathetic look on Hatori. Scowled as he noted the other man was smiling.

"Both of you! So cruel!" He meant it too. The past couple months a terrifying familiarity had developed between the two, their shared humour dry as the Gobi Desert. He, the lone straggler forced to traverse it.

"She's making you porridge. Stop complaining and be grateful. She could've decided to abandon you for better pursuits like the other three." He harrumphed his disapproval at the same moment Rika appeared in the doorway with a tray. She seemed to be debating where to place the food before nudging a somewhat clean table towards his futon and setting down the tray. Carefully moving his manuscripts to a different spot. A little necklace slipped free of her shirt and dangled as she moved about, its silver charm glinting in the light that growth through the living room. Shigure squinted at it, then felt his eyes widen. A seahorse. Taking advantage of his distraction Hatori prodded him with the needle of medicine he'd brought. Shigure yelped.

"Tori!" Ayame would've never done him dirty like that. He proclaimed that truth between the tickle in his throat.

"Ayame would be as useful as a glass hammer if he was here. Plus, he'd end up unwell too knowing you both." Hatori clucked his tongue, "Aren't you going to thank her for the food?" Grey eyes swivelled to the her in question, Rika finishing up some place settings and stepping back. The necklace had vanished again.

"It's fine Hari." Rika flapped a hand in his direction, "Don't stress it Shigure. You just eat up and get better alright?" Hari. Mid nod his attention rolled to the other man in the room. His expression was met with a bland indifference. Shigure sensed a story, one that started and ended with Rika's recent missing hours over the past number of weekends, but he didn't dare follow it just yet. That way he might be spared another painful stab in the arm. Had he been at the top of his health Shigure would've leapt on a slip up like that without thinking. As it was, he barely had the energy. Catching colds were a momentous drain, but if he played his cards right, he could torture Mitsuru about his upcoming deadline.

"Eat your porridge. I'll be back in a moment." Shigure dutifully picked up his spoon, watching Hatori follow Rika to the kitchen. Eavesdropping from this distance was difficult but noting laughter and quiet conversation was not. He shuffled his weight to the door briefly, catching sight of the pair stood side by side. It was innocent, the young woman handing his friend and dish and waving him towards the cupboard it belonged in but he'd have had to be blind to miss the way her gaze lingered on his friend. Of the soft smile she received in return when he turned back to her.

Interesting, Shigure thought as he moved himself back against his pillows, very interesting.

After Hatori left, Rika propped open the dividing doors between the living room and his bedroom, flicking on the television so that they could both watch in peace. He was too tired to do much of anything and so he drifted in and out of sleep, the table folded away and the floor cleared. Rika had her head buried in a textbook, only looking at the television in bursts. Eventually he heard the rustle of closing paper. Drifted again.

"Why do you live here?" Rika's question caught Shigure unawares, man lifting his head to look at her. There were times she was as scarily wall like as Hatori and even now with her hands wrapped around her knees and gaze distant - he couldn't be very sure she actually wasn't channelling his friend. Or that she even sought an answer to her question.

"Well, I rather like having a place of my own. It gives me freedom to write." A lie, naturally. And yet it flowed from his tongue as easily as truth.

"I remember -," The words caused his heart to stutter, Shigure forcing his expression to something impassive so she couldn't read him, "You used to live in a different, bigger house. You used to sit by the big oak tree in the gardens with my mom. You said it was your favourite place to find inspiration. So why… why would you move here?"

He had fallen speechless too long, Rika's head turning to study him. While he'd known she was recollecting things, Shigure had thought it was only fragments. Small pieces. The memory itself was so distant to him he can hardly believe she's recollected it at all. His smile came sudden. Wan.

"I made a mistake. Something foolish out of spite -," Her clothing rustled as she turned to face him properly, amber eyes bright. "I was cruel for the sake of being cruel." Shigure had never framed himself as someone good, nor kind. Each action had always had a reason behind it, something to gain. The outcomes could never have been predicted, least of all the ones that had led to his being sent from the Sohma estate but even now he couldn't bring himself to apologise. Not when she -

"You took me in when I had nowhere else to go. Fed me. Put up with…," She hesitated before continuing, "I don't think you're as cruel as you pretend to be." It shocked him, but he couldn't address it before she'd stood upright and moved towards the porch. "I'll be back later. I've got my key." Shigure watched her leave, brow furrowed. For a girl who'd been relearning so much of her past and trying to keep herself afloat, she certainly had a way of tilting everyone else's' world on its axis when she wished to. Dropping his head back to his pillow, he sighed.

Rika had been slipping into the Sohma estate for years unnoticed, a gap in the wall near Momiji's house having allowed her to do so. She'd not been the least bit hesitant to do so on this particular day, the sky grey and overcast and her hair already matting to her forehead from where the rain had snuck beneath her hood. Rika was hardly more than thirteen but that didn't stop her from comprehending right and wrong.

Right was attending the funeral of Dr. Sohma. Wrong was Akito's insistence that she stay away from the service and its accompanying events. Which had her sneaking in after hours, her mom already home and almost apoplectic that Rika had been banned from the service. Rika had been much the same, unable to handle the anger and confusion in her chest. The betrayal of Dr. Sohma dying on her when she needed him. When Hari needed him.

The house was full of maids and various staff but those who had come to offer their condolences were mercifully gone. It took darting between the lower floor rooms she knew before she found the older boy, almost nineteen now and fast asleep on a futon in his dad's old clinic. The same room she herself had spent a large part of her last five years.

Rika shirked off her wet coat. Left her wet shoes by the door. She hesitated and watched Hatori, her goal having only ever been to see how he was. Rather than leave, content with the knowledge he wasn't in pieces, the girl found herself drawn to his side. Studying the way his dark hair fell over his closed eyes. Even at twelve, she could see that he was already someone beautiful. She'd seen that at seven too.

His face was slack. Eyes puffy. He'd been crying.

Rather than lingering, she threw a final look over her shoulder to ensure no one was coming and lay down beside him. Tucked her knees against her chest and slid her warm hand into the cooler one splayed across the blankets. She lay above. He below. In the familiar warmth of his presence, she was calm. Safe. Through it all, he slept.

He'd had a terrible few weeks. He deserved the rest.

Without meaning to, the girl let her eyes close too.

/

It was a memory that had come unbidden, without fanfare or aching. Rika lingered in the gap between the Sohma estate wall trying to make sense of it. It was cold in the present but she could feel heavy rain on her skin. The bone deep grief. Most of all, the sensation buried deep in her gut that screamed for attention, telling her to find Hari.

Hari.

She'd tried the name out on her tongue. Weighted it against the doctor's smile carefully, ensuring she wasn't crossing some invisible boundary. Since he'd admitted they'd been close, the woman felt herself keep coming back to that thought. Wondering what had defined their friendship then, as opposed to what defined it now. He'd been instrumental in helping her with her exam preparation, creating excuses for study sessions and covering for her with Kazuma and Kyo. Making sure she was honest with herself, whether that honesty revolved around her capabilities for getting to university or the level of guilt she held onto.

The bulk of her recollections to date had all been punctate memories. Something uniquely tied to the person she was speaking to or triggered by an overwhelming emotion. This memory was different. As though it had been buried a little deeper than the others, curled away in a little box and hidden on the back shelf of her mind. It made Rika wonder what other things she was missing. What connections had been carefully severed and filed away.

Mostly, it made her curious as to how Hatori's ability worked. Was she romanticising her ideals, imagining him picking through the history of them and wrapping them carefully in bubble wrap and packing boxes? Preventing them from being scratched. Torn. Damaged.

More confusing, was why she desperately wanted that ideal to be true. What did she gain from it? The Hatori she knew now was logical. Bounded firmly in reality. It was what had helped her recover after her father's death. The walls he built protected him, but they also had given her a place to rest and catch her breath. In the past few months alone he had been doctor, protector, guidance counsellor, friend. It was foolish for her to want more. Foolish of her to even think of more.

Blowing out her cheeks, Rika saw her breath fog the air before her. Shook her head. There were fourteen years of memories she was trying to reclaim. To bring back to the surface. Why had that one struck so deep? Was it because it was the first of Hatori as something other than the man she knew now? Or was it that knotted desperation that accompanied it - the need to find her way back to the boy of then in spite of the fear and grief and loathing that were also there too.

Music began from the back of Momiji's garden and glancing at her watch, Rika grimaced. She was late for her training session.

Shigure had endured the day at Hatori's right hand side, Ayame on the left - together fending off overzealous mourners, annoying house staff and everything in between. He'd thought they were doing a good job until Hatori had made excuses. Removed himself to go lie down.

So, he and Ayame, unusually reserved, had taken up residence in the small room upstairs. Whispering their worries about their friend. Confusion about what would happen next. Hatori was due to begin his physician training shortly, but in the interim would they invite an out of family doctor to treat people? Would Hatori be expected to pick up his father's workload before he'd even had a chance to learn?

It was one of the few times the dog had ever found himself thinking about anyone but Akito for such an extended period and the whole thing unnerved him. When Ayame nodded off, long hair fanned out across his pillow - Shigure lay beside him. Mind racing. Erratic.

What if Akito got sick?

What if Ren did something dangerous again?

Around and around his mind went until it drove him half mad. Eventually he rolled from his futon and decided to take a walk. Rain was hitting the roof at a steady pace above them all, the sound too loud to be relaxing. Worse still, weather like this always came with thunder.

Downstairs, he dismissed the remaining maids. Raided the fridge. Snacking on an onigiri, the young man quietly padded his way towards the clinic that Hatori had retreated to. He nudged the door open as unobtrusively as he could manage with one hand full - only to freeze.

The gap he'd created in the door revealed two sleeping forms. Hatori he'd expected. The fair-haired child he had not. Somewhere in their sleep, the elder teen had pulled the younger into his arms. They were nose to nose. Untethered by the wounds of the last few weeks. Shigure knew Rika had been kept from the service out of spite. Knowing the consequences, she'd still come. Found Hari.

He felt a lump in his throat, solid and malicious, rising. How was it Akito spurned him but Rika dared their god's wrath for Hatori? He had begun to turn away when they stirred, and Shigure moved behind the door; Enough to conceal his form but still allow him a visual of the pair. It was Hatori that moved first, body registering shock at the young girl caught in his arms. Then a weighted relief.

Jealousy flared brighter.

"Rika?" His voice was sleep addled. Heavy. Hers was slow.

"Mhmm?"

"What are you doing here?" Shigure noted the sharpness of the words were countered by his unmoving hands. Hatori, for all his properness, loathed to let the girl go.

"I had to come -" She spoke softly, but firm. More than might have been expected from a thirteen-year-old. Then again, the only time Shigure heard words like that, they came from Akito and loaded with expectation. Want. "Dr. Sohma was my friend. You're my friend."

Their heads were side by side on the pillow, the vision painfully intimate. He was a voyeur in this situation, of that he was sure. Knowing it made him uncomfortable but looking away - impossible.

"And if Akito had found you?"

"Then I get caught." Shigure had to smother a laugh, missing some of the words as he shook his head in disbelief, "-mom doesn't know I'm here either but that's okay. I'll sneak back later. I just wanted to be here you know? To see that you're -,"

Okay, Shigure thought with thinly veiled contempt, she really almost said okay.

"Hey, why are you crying?" Hatori sounded accusatory, but when Shigure glanced into the room he saw bemusement too. Rika's face had been obscured by Hatori's hands; the girl's body pulled closer to his cousin's chest.

"I didn't want you to be alone but I couldn't go to the service. All I could think was how alone you'd feel Hari. I know Aya and Gure were here, but you -," She'd worked herself into a state, weeping loudly enough that Shigure was glad he'd sent home the maids.

"I'm okay. I'll be okay Rika. I promise."

She sniffled. Took a breath.

"But I wanted to say that it's okay for you not to be. That I could look after you for once. You always make me feel like I'm -," Shigure missed the rest, sentence muffled as she whispered it to Hatori. Judging from his cousin's shocked and pink face, whatever it was had been either surprising or pleasant. Possibly both.

It crossed his mind that he ought to leave them to it, but this was a side of Hatori he'd not observed before. Uncomplicated. Soft. There wasn't a hint of malice in Hari, but he was careful with his smiles. With the verbal sport he engaged in. When Shigure had seen the two interact before, it was always with Dr. Sohma present. Or Ayame. Or any number of Sohma cousins, in-laws and out-laws. Never alone. Never like this. His ears pricked as Rika's voice gained strength again.

"You're too nice to be alone Hari. To do this stuff by yourself." Shigure saw Hatori about to protest and the girl cut him off. "No, it's true. You spent all your time looking after me. Fixing me up. Minding me. Reading to me or making origami with me. I know that is gonna change now but I figured if I saw you, I could say that it's okay if you leave me behind but that I'll always be there to help you if you need it. Or want it. 'Cause you're my -," She trailed off, gaze unwavering on Hatori's face.

"You're my Hari."

Shigure heard the words that his cousin did not.

My Hari.

Mine.

I trust you. Need you. Love you.

Neither of them said such a thing. Neither voiced it. They didn't have to. It was evident in the way she'd wrapped her arms around his neck. In how his muffled weeping could be heard against the weight of her hair. Shigure could read it plain as day. He and Aya had been by Hari's side all their lives. All day. At no point had he broken down. He'd been only himself. Cool. Composed. A little shell shocked.

One conversation with Rika, and he'd opened up some invisible part of him.

Shigure saw the bond's hand in the actions. Recognised too late that Hatori, his Hatori, Akito's Hatori, had formed something unspeakable with the Hayashi girl. Something that would never be allowed to fester so long as Akito was head of the household. As long as the curse poisoned her mind. In the same moment as his anger flared, it was snuffed out by realisation.

If Hatori loved Rika greater than he loved Akito, then something in the curse had faltered.

If he were encouraged to pursue it down the line - it might very well be the catalyst to freeing them all and from those ashes then he, Shigure, could claim Akito as his and his alone. Without fear of her being swayed by another. Of her needing to cling to another. His chest felt tight with the awareness of what that might be like. Of how much it could benefit them. Him, most of all. To feel that passion alone. That love. He wanted that love so much it ached. More than he hated Hatori for stealing the same feeling and claiming it without knowing what he'd done. All the Sohma's, every damn one, carried their struggle with intimacy like a striped warning hazard.

Don't get too close, it said, I'll bite.

That was how it was. Love existed too, but always with stipulation. A give and take.

He hazarded a final look into the clinic room to see Rika with an arm hooked around Hatori's neck. A hand buried in his hair. His face curled into her shoulder. She looked small beside him, even for a girl as tall as she was growing to be. Someday, an act like theirs wouldn't be born of innocence. It would be loaded with intent. With tension. This love, he wondered, is it the same? As inexplicable and binding as what he felt for Akito? Would it last? Shigure leaned his weight against the door. Quietly watching. Considering.

If he had to leave nothing but ash in his wake, he'd make it happen.

Someday.