Title: Afterword
Author: Celeste
Rating: PG-13 (for vague ties of NCS from previous works)
Feedback: (yes!) keviesprincessnetscape.net
Pairing: Mentions of Haru/Yuki, slight, slight Hatori/Shigure
Summary: Companion Piece to "The Price of Peace and Quiet," "Storyteller," "Coming of Age," "Healer," and "Secrets"- Shigure and Hatori deal with the afterwards.
A/N: Uhm… sorry. I guess this one just came to me after a late night convo with Mel about Black Haru and I love Black Haru and I think it would kind of cool if he was Evil!Black Haru but in a disturbing way. So this is my way of taking advantage of the weird little story arc I've created to make an exuse to use Evil!Black Haru in a disturbing way. Er… I don't make sense, do I? Eh… if you've read the other stories in this arc then you should know that by now, and what are you still doing here at all? Don't I scare you a bit? :P Anyway, the usual apologies/warnings for INTENSE OOCness, redundancy, melodrama, and general boredom. Oh, and in this case especially, creepy Author's Notes. --;;
Dedication: To Mel again, because really, she's the reason why this exists. Either hate her or love her for it. :P She really inspired the concept, and I just tacked it on to my already overplayed story arc. --;; Bad me.
Disclaimer: Not mine… if they were, I think I'd worry a lot less about paying my out-of-state college tuition and more about Hatori/Shigure fanservice and getting to molest Seki as he's voicing Kyou. XD
Shigure returned to the main house on Tuesday afternoons to pick up Haru's prescription.
He would walk the grounds to Hatori's office, passing thoughtfully under Akito's window as he did. When he looked up at it, it was always closed. The window remained closed all the time, now. But he looked up anyway, wondering why he wished to see Akito's face looking down on him from there, like it used to. It didn't anymore, of course. He wasn't sure why sometimes, but sometimes when he walked by he wished it would happen, that he would look up and Akito would look back at him with that sickly superiority as he wilted away against the sill.
He didn't want to see Akito for the sake of seeing Akito.
Not for any reason like that. Not because he liked Akito, not because he particularly wanted to see him since he hadn't for a long time.
Just because if he were in that window, it would signify nothing.
It would tell him that nothing had changed after all.
So sometimes, on Tuesday afternoons when Shigure went to the main house to pick up Haru's prescription, he would look up at that window and wish Akito was peering out of it, pale and malicious and there…
…because it was a sign.
That was all Akito had ever been for anyone, after all. A signifier, a sign. His presence told them something, told them what to expect, what to look forward to, what to fear and what to avoid. It told them how to behave, showed them what was going to happen, told them how to deal with it.
To Shigure, Akito in the window meant that nothing had changed. He used to think that keeping everything the same wasn't a particularly good thing. But that was a long time ago. He used to think that change was good… that it was the only thing that would save those that were cursed over time. But now…
… now he wished Akito would open the window to sit beside it again while he plotted whatever he plotted.
Because change had come to the Sohma house, to him, to Hatori, to Kyou and Tohru and Momiji and Yuki and Haru.
To the whole family.
Change had come, but not in the form he had always hoped for, the way he thought would free them from whatever it was that held each of them back. With Akito's disappearance from their lives, his hold over them had been broken, but the change that had come about as a result had broken many other things as well.
Shigure returned to the main house every Tuesday afternoon to pick up Haru's prescription.
He would pass the window closed forever behind locked shutters and look up and think a little before finding himself in front of Hatori's door.
He'd think that maybe Hatori wished Akito would peer out of that window again sometimes as well.
He wouldn't knock, instead he'd slide the door open and peek in, because Hatori had more than patients visiting him these days.
Not just for fevers or toothaches anymore. Dr. Sohma didn't just get sprained ankles or upset stomachs or headaches in to see him.
Now, he got property contracts, construction petitions, business proposals, legal documents, financial consultations, corporate bills, insurance payments, marital arrangements, room assignments, weekly budgets, monthly statements, solicitors, salesmen, representatives, go-betweens, consuls, consultants, lawyers…
…anyone and everyone that had anything to do with the Sohma empire.
They came to see Dr. Sohma now, filtered through the doors and asked him what and who and how and when and how many at what price.
He answered them and they wrote his words down and bowed to the waist and backed out of the room so the next one could ask Dr. Sohma his questions and get his answers and write them down and touch his nose to the floor and crawl out of the room.
There were always so many people going in and out of Hatori's door.
They looked up at him like a silhouette in a window.
So Shigure would peek in, and if there was no one at the feet of Dr. Sohma, he would cough to announce his presence.
Hatori would turn around and look at him with an expression of both relief and intense weariness and move to open his drawer, the one with his prescription pad in it.
The one without the bills or contracts or propositions or statements or budgets or memos.
The one with just his stethoscope and pen and pad.
He would open it and look at Shigure and take the pen and pad in his hands and sit down in his chair and wait. Because Shigure returned to the main house every Tuesday afternoon to pick up Haru's prescription.
Today was no different from those other days, and Shigure slid into the room and stood across from Hatori, waiting for him to dig through his drawer and find his pen and pad before taking a seat next to him.
"How is he?" Hatori asked, looking at Shigure once he had set his pen and pad in his lap. It was the same question he asked every time Shigure came, and sometimes the answer was better, and sometimes it was not.
Today, it was not.
Shigure wanted nothing more than to offer Hatori some sort of hopeful news, some sort of change that was good.
But Haru needed medicine. "He's…I thought he was getting better, Ha-san."
Hatori's face remained stoic at the revelation, but Shigure was observant enough to see helplessness in his dearest friend's schooled expression. "What happened?"
Hatori was the strongest person Shigure had ever known. He himself had always been much weaker…frivolous and unconcerned. He was unprepared to deal with the world as it was now. He was weak and frightened in this new situation he found himself in.
Perhaps he was paying for it now, paying with the pain he felt for having to rely on Hatori as well, to rely on him like everyone else did as that shadow in the window. Hatori was the strongest one of them all.
Shigure laid his head on Hatori's shoulder and hated himself a little.
"Too many things are wrong, Ha-san."
A tentative hand on his shoulder, and he felt the metal of Hatori's fountain pen pressing against his collarbone at the offered comfort. "Start at the beginning…everything that's happened this week."
Shigure returned to the main house every Tuesday afternoon to pick up Haru's prescription.
And to talk about change, the things that change had left them after the windows had closed.
Shigure frowned a little, recalling the sounds that had woken him from sleep in the dead of the night for two days now. He felt Hatori shift slightly, bring his hand around the dog's shoulder so that he could write around the obstacle of his cousin's head. The writer sighed and eased himself to the side, to help as well as bring himself a little closer, to leech more of Hatori's needed strength. "Nightmares. He hasn't been sleeping."
A pause in Hatori's movements, the reaction of a family member rather than a physician. "How bad?"
"He…screams," Shigure murmured, staring at the blank white of the prescription paper resting on Hatori's leg and wondering what sort of artificial solace will be written there today. "Ha-san, someone so young shouldn't scream like that."
A deep breath in response, and the physician returned. "I'll…have to up the dosage."
"Will that really help? The last time wasn't so long ago…"
"He'll… be able to sleep again. At least for a while."
"Okay."
"At least… it will give us more time to find something better to help."
Shigure tried to look up at Hatori, eyes pushing around the presence of Dr. Sohma and gave his friend a weak attempt at a smile. "Okay."
But there was something else as well that Haru would need help for, something more than nightmares and dreams, something that needed more than a note on that prescription paper and a trip to the pharmacy.
But Shigure didn't tell Hatori too many details about this, because Hatori was a doctor and suddenly much more.
It was something that Hatori didn't need on his plate as well, as a doctor or as any of the other things he had suddenly become. It wasn't a physical illness per se. It wasn't something they could just knock Haru out with by giving him pills from a little orange bottle.
It was something Shigure was going to try and take care of, as the other adult. Hatori had a million other things to worry about and Shigure had promised himself he would worry some in Hatori's stead, over the things he could worry about that Hatori need not. Shigure had been reading up on it, had been putting aside his writing with the excuse of research for his next novel as he studied what was happening to his charge with a sort of desperation that made him expend strength he knew he didn't have.
Shigure returned to the main house every Tuesday afternoon to pick up Haru's prescription…
…and to draw strength from Hatori that he otherwise wouldn't have alone.
The thing was…
…what was happening was…
…Haru became Black more often than he used to now.
Normally, Black Haru didn't worry anyone…
…normally, he was just exasperating, occasionally amusing, mostly more libidinous than harmful.
On the way to the pharmacy to pick up Haru's prescription later, Shigure would also have to buy bandages.
Kyou wasn't hurt badly, and more by choice than anything else.
He wasn't hurt badly. It was just because…
...he refused to fight back.
Kyou would never say why exactly. He would never let any of them know why he let Black Haru hit him as much as he did because they all knew he was far stronger.
Shigure had asked once… he wasn't sure, but he might have heard a, "What would it prove?" from the cat. But he wasn't sure.
And it was so unlike Kyou to lose so many fights purposefully. Especially when Haru said such cruel things to him.
"I could touch her and she wouldn't even know, Kyou… wouldn't know what I was doing. She'd smile at me, wouldn't she? She'd smile and want to help anyway she could, and I could just touch her and she's so stupid she'd never even know what I did until…"
Kyou would grit his teeth and clench his hands and look sadder than he was angry. But he wouldn't strike back at Haru.
Luckily, Kyou had always been much stronger than Haru, and was never hurt too badly. Shigure wouldn't need to buy too many bandages at the pharmacy later.
It was the choice that was more surprising than anything else.
When Shigure had tried to talk to him about it as he was patching him up, Kyou just avoided the issue as much as possible, just spit and cursed and said a thousand things with a few sad words.
"Kyou…you don't have to do this, you know."
"Do what? Ow…god dammit you stupid dog, just lemme do it myself, will you? Go away and leave me alone! It's not a big deal!"
"It makes Tohru-kun sad to see you so beat up. You know…she cries for you when you're hurt."
It was a cheap attempt to guilt the cat, to make him stop and defend himself. But it was out of worry for them both. The blood on Kyou's arms that he ignored and the tears in Tohru's eyes that she quickly wiped away were something Shigure thought he could ameliorate, if only a little. Of all the things gone wrong, he thought perhaps he could do something about that.
Kyou's response had surprised him, however. The look in the cat's eyes as he'd carelessly soaked a bandage in disinfectant and tied it around the cut on his arm had told Shigure that Kyou's bleeding wasn't what was painful.
"Che… crying for me. Don't you know, you stupid dog? It doesn't matter. That idiot… she cries for all of us."
And he'd gotten up and walked away.
It was one of those times that Shigure wished the window would open again.
That nothing had changed.
The other day, Black Haru had shoved a visiting Momiji and whispered things into Yuki's ear.
Momiji hadn't cried or said a word about Haru as Tohru wrapped his wrist.
"I'm so clumsy…haha…I can't believe I fell like that, Tohru-chan! Ne…but Tohru-chan is so good at wrapping it, it feels better already! Thank you!"
The only response to his cheer that there could be was a return smile.
"You're welcome! Just…be more careful Momiji-san, okay?"
"Okay!"
And Shigure wasn't exactly sure what Haru had whispered… but the sound of Yuki's slap had disturbed even the birds in the nearby trees.
And it seemed…
…it seemed like Yuki's tears were the only thing that brought Haru back.
"Haru… why did you say that? Why would you say something so…"
"Yuki? I…I… I'm sorry…I didn't…"
"I know…that it is my fault… I know that you don't…"
"Yuki… please don't cry…don't say that… it's not… I'm sorry… I'm…"
"…so sorry."
"I'm… so sorry."
Shigure used to think that change was good, a sign of movement and growth, of going forward to better things, more beautiful things.
But hearing those two made him feel weak, made him feel older than his age. They made him long for how they used to be…how all of them used to be. For the sign that things hadn't changed.
"Shigure…"
"Yes, Yuki?"
"The medicine…I don't want Haru to take it any more."
"But Yuki… the nightmares…they'll come back."
"They always come back anyway, don't they, Shigure? After a while they start to come back again. And Hatori will strengthen the dosage and every time we make him take it, he'll just be nothing. I'll look at him and there will be nothing. He won't know anything, and I never…I never know what to do. How does that help?"
"He needs to sleep, Yuki. It's only for now, until he's able to talk about it. We'll find a better way to help, but for now…"
"When I look at him, he doesn't know me, Shigure."
"Yuki…"
"He'll look at me and see nothing. I'm just a stranger to him when he's like that. I'm not…"
"Yuki don't…"
"I know I'm horrible. I know that I'm horrible and I've done something horrible and he shouldn't want to look at me at all, after the things I've done…but at least without the medicine, when he looks at me, I know he feels something. He might hate me or be disgusted or think I'm horrible but that's better… it's better than nothing. I think it's better than nothing, isn't it?"
"Oh, Yuki…"
"Is it selfish of me, Shigure? To want to see something there? To want to see whatever of Haru I can? Even… if it's…if it's… is it being selfish?"
"No, of course it isn't… it's just…"
"Then what?"
"The nightmares… he needs to sleep, Yuki. As much as I don't like seeing him after he's taken the medicine… those screams… I…"
"They're horrible screams."
"Then…"
"Shigure…I miss him."
"I know…
…I know…"
Shigure missed them both.
He remembered hoping that Hatori would come up with something to fix that. Something that wouldn't kill who Haru was as they subdued the darker horrors of his mind.
He hated that he was waiting for Hatori to find something.
He tried to deal with what happened outside of the medication's reach, to deal with the Black Haru, the new Black Haru that appeared more and more when the boy was free of the blank haze of drugs.
Because he wanted to help Hatori, to be an adult and take charge of something so Hatori wouldn't have to take care of everything.
And because he was worried about Haru, the one that they saw less and less of as the days went on.
Because he was the other adult.
But he didn't feel strong enough sometimes, didn't feel like he was much good at all.
Sometimes he wished he could look up at that window and see the past looking back at him, telling him nothing was different after all. Because he didn't feel like he had the strength for this.
Shigure returned to the main house every Tuesday afternoon to pick up Haru's prescription…
…but also, to draw the strength from Hatori that he wouldn't have on his own.
Sometimes he hated himself a little.
"Shigure…what are you thinking?" Hatori's voice stirred him from his thoughts, and he felt the nudge of the other's arm around his shoulder.
"I'm thinking…that I'm glad Ha-san is here."
"Don't tease. It's been a long day for me."
"Not a joke. I'm just… grateful."
"I'm…sorry. That everything is this way, Gure."
"Everything…will be okay. Won't it?"
"One day… perhaps."
"I'm glad Ha-san is here."
Shigure returned to the main house on Tuesday afternoons to pick up Haru's prescription.
He also talked about change, the things that change had left them after the windows had closed.
It made him feel weak most of the time, made him feel a little overwhelmed because he knew he had to help, but sometimes he just didn't have the strength. He hated himself for it, sometimes.
Sometimes he hated himself.
Because on those Tuesday afternoons when he went to the main house to pick up Haru's prescription, he would also draw strength from Hatori…strength he didn't have alone.
Because sometimes, he must have looked at Hatori like a silhouette in the window.
"I'm glad Ha-san is here."
END