Born to be Broken.
Disclaimer: Fruits Basket? Yeah. I own it. (Taps fingers together and looks around nervously.) Okay... not really... But that would be cool, ne?
Note: I am updating the first chapter now, because... well... I feel like it. I wont go into descriptive thanking of reviewers yet because I've only got three so far and one of them wasn't very nice. Oh and on that note, Kayla: Thankyou. We are all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of view.
(Thanks to my nice reviewers, especially the one who remarked on the Forbidden Flame. You are the ones I write for! So I hope you enjoy. I'll keep writing for you guys! ^^)
"A spoken word is like a sparrow. Once it flies out, you can't catch it." – Russian proverb.
He slipped away from the windowsill, robes shifting around his slim form and whispering soft insinuations as they brushed together. He crossed the room towards the bed, intending to sleep for a few hours and rest his ill-wearied body.
A floorboard creaked beneath his feet.
*
Shigure and Ayame spent the day at home. The house felt strangely quiet without Yuki and Kyou around to spice up the atmosphere. Sometimes Ayame wondered how Shigure managed his days all alone, with only the company of his computer and the occasional distressed call from Mii to harass him about his upcoming deadline. Already she had interrupted them several times just when they had been getting close and personal, which made Shigure suspect that Mii had set up surveillance around the house to ensure that he was working and not having fun. With the constant tolling of the phone determined to ruin moods of any sort being created, the pair decided they were better off getting work out of the way before they could play in peace. Therefore the day passed mostly uneventfully, Shigure typing away at his computer, occasionally pausing to thumb his way through some relevant notes, whilst Ayame contented himself to doing some designing in the corner. He sat, pencil arched upwards between the press of his lips as he carefully examined his latest sketch. It wasn't exactly his usual style of garment and he was unsure as to what people's reactions would be to it. Only this outfit wasn't going in his shop, oh no.
It was going on him.
"What's another word for indifferently?" Shigure called, interrupting his analysis of the drawing. Ayame raised his head, the pen tilted downward to follow the slope of his lip.
"Umm..." He murmured, looking quite startled that they were interacting. The room had been quiet for far too long. "Why are you asking me? Don't you have a thesaurus that can tell you that?"
Shigure grinned at him sheepishly. "I was just looking for an excuse to talk really."
Ayame laughed at him and withdrew the pen from his mouth, using the capped lid to move some hair from his face.
"That's good. Because quite frankly, I don't have a clue. 'Unemotionally', maybe? Or... lackadaisically? Ooh! OOH! I KNOW!! 'Hari!!'"
"You think I should ask Hari for advice?" Shigure asked uncertainly. Ayame shook his head.
"No you idiot! You can use Hari in place of indifferently!" He giggled jovially and threw himself backwards onto the bed, slapping the drawing pad against his forehead. "Oh Gure! What would you do without me?"
"Probably curl up and die." The dog replied immediately, as he typed 'unemotionally' onto the screen. It worked. He kept it. "See? Look at that! You just saved my novel! My hero." He added, somewhat sarcastically.
Ayame threw a pillow at him, disgusted. "I heard that you big meanie! And don't think you'll be getting a cuddle tonight either, if you're going to speak to me that way!"
Shigure threw the pillow back, rolling his eyes after Ayame had caught it. "Please... you wouldn't last five minutes on one side of the bed... all by yourself...." He teased, waggling his fingers in a horror movie type way.
"Meanie." Ayame repeated. "That's two nights worth of cuddles, now."
"Only say it if you mean it ~!" Shigure sang, wiggling his finger at the snake then setting both hands down on the keyboard. He squinted over the tops of his glasses at the slightly glowing screen then his fingers flew, adding more words and sentences. He pursed his lips, reading back over what he had just written, then with a disgusted snort, highlighted and erased the lot.
"I heard that." Ayame called from behind his sketchpad.
"Please... how could you hear the sound of erasing font?"
Ayame rolled over onto his stomach and set his chin on top of his hands. "Your disgruntled snort indicated you are not happy with how things are progressing, so naturally you are going to be a big whiny baby about it and get rid of everything without even considering that a simple bit of editing can solve all your problems."
"I'm too tired to concentrate..." Shigure whined, pulling off his glasses and rubbing at his weary eyes. Ayame felt guilt rise in his chest, then quickly brushed it aside. Its Shigure's fault too... he thought, setting the drawing pad down on the floor beside the bed and rolling off. If he's going to complain about it now, then he should have better control of his sex drive, he rationalized making his way over to Shigure and waving a hand jerkily to indicate that he should scoot backwards from his desk a little. Shigure, half way through a yawn, complied and shifted away, giving Ayame room to sit himself down in the gap of his crossed legs and examine the screen. He scratched his chin thoughtfully as he read the tiny print, trying to ignore Shigure as he wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face against his back. Damn, it is hard to concentrate...
"This is the last chapter, I'm guessing?" He asked finally. Shigure nodded into his spine and made a sleepy noise. Ayame thrust his butt backwards firmly, forcing Shigure to pay attention. "It sounds fine to me. What's the story about?"
"Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy compromises upstanding social status just to be with girl, ends up getting dumped like a two day old corpse and dropping out of school." Shigure yawned, covering his hand with his mouth. He reached around Ayame and moved the mouse up towards the tiny cross in the corner and clicking on it. "It's boring anyway."
Ayame smiled. "I like it. I wanna find out how it ends."
Shigure smiled back and nuzzled his face into his lover's neck, murmuring sweet little sounds against his skin. "It ends like this."
Ayame feigned innocence. "It ends with me sitting in your lap?"
"It ends with love." The inu laughed, reaching up to ruffle his friends hair. "Don't play coy with me young man, you know that gets you into all sorts of trouble."
"Ooh... hiss~" Ayame whispered, blowing gently on Shigure's lips. "Care to educate me?"
The novelist laughed a little, a serious look suddenly overlapping his humorous expression as he stretched himself out on the floor, locking his eyes on Ayame. Uh oh, the snake thought. This looks like trouble...
"About those nightmares-" He began, and Ayame groaned, wishing it had been anything but that. It was a subject he wasn't exactly big on at the moment. "I was thinking how strange it was that they keep recurring like this... you know? So... I gave Hari a ring this morning to see if he could come over and talk about it."
"And?" Ayame asked.
"Seems he wanted to talk to me about something too, so he asked me to drop by the main house this afternoon. He's a bit overworked poor thing and it doesn't seem he can spare much time. Will you be coming over too? I think it might be an idea, after all... you are the one having these dreams."
Ayame pursed his lips and looked to the side, an indication that he was grumpy about the whole thing. It was a while before he answered.
"I've told you enough about them. Would you mind going over yourself? There's something I need to be doing here..."
Shigure wasn't surprised at the response, though he did arch an eyebrow as if he were. Perhaps it was an action he had grown altogether too comfortable with around Ayame.
"Oh?" He said, though the word lacked question and didn't require a response. "Well... that's okay. Knowing Hari he'll probably just say that 'nightmares are a reflection of stress, a coping mechanism for the mind.'" He added, in a deep frightfully accurate impersonation of Hatori's voice. Ayame laughed loudly, though he felt a little guilty for doing so.
"I ask you Shigure; what stress exactly do I have in my life?" He questioned, raking a hand through his hair and tossing the strands upwards so they shone in the sunlight. It went without saying that he was unconditionally besotted with his hair and reinforced his love of it at every chance. Showing it off like this was just another way of doing it.
Shigure chuckled at his statement. "None as far as I can tell." He said, reaching up to stroke his knuckles along Ayame's cheek. "Though it could just be nerves from—hmm, nah! Not you."
"You're absolutely right, Gure!" Ayame said, closing his eyes and enjoying Shigure's touch. He lay his body down and cuddled up close to the dog, wrapping his arms around him and gazing into his eyes. "A few hundred people, flashing lights and microphones doesn't scare Ayame Sohma, no siree! But it would be nice to figure out what does... because these dreams, nightmares whatever are doing serious damage to my hair!" He held up the ends as if to prove this, only there wasn't one split end in sight. Shigure pretended to examine them thoroughly and then sighed and closed his eyes as though the sight was too terrible to behold.
"Yes... this dreadful, dreadful thing must be brought to a close at once! Though... when it results it situations like this is it any wonder I might be a... oh let's say, tad reluctant to let them go?" He laughed, placing his hand on Ayame's cheek and kissing his tender lips. "I've gotta hand it to those pesky little dreams! They sure have brought us close together, haven't they?"
"I'll be sure to write them a thankyou note." Ayame replied, breathlessly as the other man pecked his lips and nuzzled them affectionately with his own. The snake slid his leg between Shigure's and rubbed his knee up against his manhood. The response rippled through the inu's body like ice fire, activating little pinpoints of pleasure here and there. Shigure crooned a soft sound and brushed his fingers along the crest of Ayame's neck, brushing the soft sensitive fuzzle there.
It was moments like this that the pair really enjoyed. Even after two months together, they were still discovering little things about one another that they hadn't even known before, despite 27 years of friendship. For example; it was uncommon for Ayame to spend a night at Shigure's house. He was more likely to spend a week. Ayame brushed his teeth in the bath and left his toothbrush lying in the soap rack where Shigure had come across it. Ah yes, nothing spelled commitment like finding a person's toiletries in your tub. Unless they were of course using your toiletries and Ayame was prone to doing that too.
Shigure's room had taken on the undeniable scent of lavender, which had filtered upstairs into Kyou's room and driven him out of the house. He spent most nights on the roof now and only come inside to eat and whine about mosquito bites.
Ayame had the bizarre tendency of simply needing to wash his hair twice a day with three different brands of shampoo and two kinds of conditioner. Then he'd blow dry his mane to perfection in the very early hours of the morning, waking everyone up and singing offensively loudly while he did. The fruity smell of the shampoo's lingered in the air for weeks, even when Ayame went home and took his hair care products with him. He would always return however, two weeks later at the most to stay a couple of nights and "keep Shigure company."
What else? Shigure thought, as Ayame rolled him over and slid atop him. Oh yeah... and he's always doing something with my hair... spiking it up and gelling it. ...I've had so much product in my hair it's a wonder I was ever able to wash it. Still... he had been so pleased with it ~
"Ayame..." He chuckled, as the snake started pushing open his robes at the collar and suckling the skin beneath. "If I don't finish this off today Mii will have my head. And I don't mean the one on my neck either..."
Ayame gazed at him a little disappointed and then gave a half-hearted shrug as though it wasn't that big of a deal.
"Either way it's a bad thing." He concluded standing up and heading back over to Shigure's bed. The dog pulled himself into a sitting position, amazed at Ayame's self control. Usually, he would tease and coax him into it until he eventually consented. He must be tired himself, he figured.
Ayame paused before the bed and lowered his eyes to the sketchpad on the floor. He bent down to pick it up, allowing Shigure a clear view of his perfectly round ass. The inu whistled loudly pleased that he had persuaded his lover into wearing one of his old work shirts that morning. He cut a divine figure, long legs stretching out from beneath the hem and angled in perfect symmetry to the rest of his lean body. The sleeves were too long and come just up to the tips of his fingers, very nearly hindering his use of them. Ayame used the sleeves to wipe the dust from the drawing pad and turned to face Shigure, blinking adorably at him with just the hint of a smile on his feminine face. "It's almost two o'clock Shigure, so if you're not going to work I suggest you head on over to the main house and see if you can speak to Hari now. I'd like to do a few things but I'll be finished by the time you're back."
"What kind of things?"
"Just... things." Ayame said mysteriously, walking towards him and whacking him over the head with the sketchpad. "And that was for whistling, you dirty bastard."
"You loved it and you know it." Shigure leered, rubbing at the sore spot as Ayame started going through his closet, tossing various clothes onto the bed. He watched the process, still amazed at how quickly they had slid into the cookie cutter couple mold over the previous two months. Ayame always had to pick what clothes he wore if he was in the house to do so. It was a cute traditional little habit of his, though sometimes it got annoying. He did know how to dress himself after all. ...Well... kind of...
Shigure climbed to his feet, stretching his cramped limbs as he made his way over to the bedside table, moving around Ayame's rummaging form. He tugged open the middle drawer, glancing over his various boxers with a critical eye before settling on a pair of plain white. Shigure shrugged off his robe, depositing it on the floor and quickly changed his boxers, moving fluently to prevent Ayame from taking revenge for his whistle. Once donned, he ambled over to see what the other man had picked out for him, God forbid. Ayame grinned as he shoved two hangers towards Shigure's face with such gusto that he felt a rush of air fan his face. The clothes swung briefly on the hangers before coming to a halt.
"Here you go! Now get changed! Chop, chop!" Ayame chirped, gesturing wildly with the hangers. Shigure examined the articles; a moderately conservative black shirt with Asian trim along the collar and a pair of jeans with slightly flared legs. He raised an eyebrow.
"Since when did I own these?"
"I took the liberty!" Ayame said, posing with the articles as though he were a model in a magazine. "I mean, I love you and all Shigure, but dear me you appear to have a lacking of intelligence when it comes to the area of fashion! With nice long legs like yours, you should be wearing clothes that make the most of them rather then baggy trousers that make you resemble a dwarf! Heaven forbid!"
"Since when did I resemble a dwarf?" Shigure said, looking hurt. Ayame laughed and hefted the clothing into his arms.
"Get changed!" He repeated, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. "And if you come back quickly, I may just have a surprise waiting for you..."
Shigure got changed. He was out of the house before Mii called for the seventh time.
****************
Though he arrived at the house with only one intention in mind, Shigure found himself even more confused then he was originally. Hatori had invited him inside and the topic had swayed from Ayame like a tree branch in a stubborn wind, to another seemingly more pressing matter.
Akito was dying.
Shigure gazed into his cousin's face in disbelief.
"So... this is it then?" He finally choked out. "There's nothing more that you can do?"
Hatori buried his hands deep into his lab coat pockets and lowered his head. His eye was weighed down with dark rims of pressure and he seemed immeasurably tired. Though he did his best not to express it.
"I'm afraid so Shigure. From here on in, no matter what I do Akito has mere months left in him." The dragon slowly walked over to the window and gazed out. The garden had the first markings of spring; the fresh beginnings of new life. The buds on the surrounding cherry blossom tree's were sit to flower; a tear drop shape of pink peeking out through the green veil that encased it. There was rebirth all around them, fresh vitality and unmistakable beauty. Yet, in amongst all this new life there was the ever-present stench of death. Eroding, constant and ever lingering from the zodiac's first days as the cursed. Akito's own individual curse was stretching out its dark hand to overshadow everything within in the Sohma grounds and even the sunniest patches of grass seemed choked with darkness. Hatori shivered involuntarily. The entire house seemed suddenly haunted, as though a wraith had simply brushed up against his straight back and traced one cold finger down the slope of his spine. He shook his head, damning himself for such irrational thoughts.
Shigure watched Hatori slip into one of his extensive silences with unabated patience. He knew that the doctor was simply considering what he would say next; weighing choice words up against one another to distinguish those that would phrase the meaning more appropriately. But still—he couldn't help but let the annoyance he felt well up within him. He clutched at his thick hair, as though the individual strands would somehow reconfirm his grasp on reality. It was so... confusing. Though expected and assumed as an inevitable occurrence, actually hearing the words baptized in speech sent his mind reeling to the brink of incomprehensible thought. Shigure couldn't understand why now of all times. Everything had finally fallen into place in the Sohma family. Everything in his life at the very least was perfect.
So why now?
"It's certainly a bullet out of the dark..." He finally said, feeling even as he spoke that this somehow wasn't true. In all their hearts they knew that Akito was teetering on the precipice that represented his own fall into death. "I... I can't say I really understand though. He was fine up until now, wasn't he? Stable at the very least... right? So why is he suddenly on his death bed?"
"Akito has been on a rapid health decline for months now." Hatori replied solemnly, contradicting Shigure's assumption. His single eye remained focused on the blossom buds as they swayed gently in the early afternoon breeze. He somehow felt calmer observing these obscure actions of nature, which he might have any other day taken for granted. In the wake of death, he knew, he would always from here on consider this an indulgence of some sort. The death could not see this beautiful world such as he could. "There is only certain things as a doctor that I can do." He continued, voice lowered to a husky, gruff drawl. "But a large part of it is entirely up to Akito. He must sustain the will to live or else he will gradually deteriorate. It is happening right now, within these very walls. If the plaster could speak Shigure it would tell of the shell upstairs who spends his day slowly, absolutely and utterly wasting away. Mentally, he is unreachable and his body rejects the antibiotics I give him. Akito is slipping away from us and there is nothing more I can do to prevent it. All I can do... is watch."
"But why?!" Shigure practically shrieked, feeling more emotional at the impending prospect than he knew he should be. More than anything he was angry at Akito for hitching up the progression of his life; such as a tiny branch might snag the hem of your clothing and tug you back for a moment. Then you would have no choice but to waste time unhooking it and disdainfully go about your way, more annoyed than you were to begin with. What right did Akito have to snag a hold of him like this when everything was going so smoothly? He knew the thoughts were unfair but they were there in his mind just the same, shockingly human and childish. But there just the same. "What is it that's made him give up Hari? Explain to me."
Hatori lowered his head and sighed, knowing that his friend was not going to like what he was about to hear. Still, he wanted to know and he had a right too, even if it was something that would displease him. He turned to face Shigure, keeping his expression carefully neutral.
"I believe... that the catalyst itself may be none other than Tohru Honda." He said blatantly.
Shigure's response was as to be expected. His face twisted from one side to the other, his upper lip quirking away to reveal one sharp canine. Both fists clenched into tight square balls.
"Don't you dare throw the blame on Tohru!" He growled, extending a finger to point towards Akito's bedroom. "That girl has done more for this family in a year than that asshole has done in nineteen!"
"Shigure keep your voice down." Hatori hissed, casting a prompting glance down the hallway that lead to Akito's room. "He's sleeping and is unaware that you're here. He will get angry if disturbed."
"Then let him be angry!" Shigure snapped, leaning forward so he closed the distance between himself and the doctor ever so slightly. His face was creased with tiny intricate lines that barely ever revealed themselves to the world, such was his humorous nature. "I won't allow anything to happen to Tohru as a result of his misery! Whether it be sending her away or erasing her memory, I refuse to let it happen! No matter what his orders might be." He jerked his head towards the hallway again as though he needed to reaffirm just who 'him' was.
"Shigure, you have the circumstances all wrong." Hatori said patiently, rubbing his lame eye with the heel of his hand. The old wound became agitated so easily, especially when he was stressed. "Akito has no desire to cause Tohru any trouble. He is wasting away because his guilt is consuming him. Tohru enabled him to see the wrongs of his life and the revelation shocked him. So much so that he can barely look at his own reflection without trying to smash through the image of his face. He cries in his sleep Shigure... I've heard him crying out, fighting against God only knows what manner of awful nightmares that avail him and then vomiting upon waking. He cannot live with what he has done... so instead he chooses to let himself die."
"Ridiculous self pity..." The inu grumbled, raking a hand through his nape length hair. "He could just ask forgiveness and not have to suffer so, but no, he's too proud for that. He is content in his own selfish misery."
Hatori's face was impassive. Hmm... that was another word he could use in place of indifferently. "He cannot ask forgiveness Shigure, even if he wanted too."
"And why would that be exactly?"
"Selective mutism." Hatori replied, casting his eye downward toward the floor. There was a burn mark scalded into the wood right between his feet. Perhaps someone had knocked a candle over at some point. "Akito has lost his voice."
* * * * * * * * * * *
He awoke awash in sweat and tears. Bile was rising in the back of his throat and he reached for the bucket kept beside the bed for such occasions, vomiting violently once he had it positioned before his mouth. Hot tears sprang to his eyes as his throat burned and screamed in objection. Another meal he had been unable to keep down. Another dream he had been unable to prevent.
The Sohma family master placed the bucket back down and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He was used to the abnormally constant illness, to being sick every day of his life since he had been a child. It had been a fact of life. Hmm... strange term to use that. A fact of 'life.' Honestly though... what life did he have? What life was there for one whom could barely carry his own petite weight around without thoroughly exhausting himself in the process? The definition of life itself was: "the existence of the soul, something essential to the continued existence of something." Akito was well versed with the term. When he had been told that he was born essentially for the purpose of dying and in so doing, providing life, he had been too young to really understand what all these words meant. A vague memory of stretching upward on the crest of tippy-toes to tug at the corner of a dictionary that seemed to weigh more than he did. And a tiny little boy, no more than four sitting cross legged on the floor with the vast book in his minute hands, trailing a stubby finger along a page he had since observed a thousand times before. The meaning of life. The literal meaning. Because there was none alive who really knew the meaning of life, of existence itself.
Akito knew.
Maybe not everyone else's, but his meaning, the literal meaning of his life was something no book or no scientist could define. It was a meaning conjured years and years ago, by manner of who knew what. But the meaning itself was so very clear, though complex in its obviousness.
My meaning of life: "To give it up, to give to you. My gift, to my family. Death offered to sustain life. That is my purpose... alone.
'But why? Who decided it had to be that way?'
Akito rubbed at his forehead, ignoring the burning question that seared at his mind and had done so for weeks on end. Death, sickness, they were all he knew. This illness was a constant, unchanging continuity, something real and solid that he could keep control of, just as he kept control of the zodiac.
But now... he had lost control utterly. Over himself, the sickness, his family. And it was frightening. It terrified him, that he did not have a solid grasp on these things anymore.
It meant only one inevitability.
That the curse was beginning to win.
Akito sat up slowly in bed, resting his throbbing head on the backboard and reached for the glass of water he kept on the mantle. His fingers were shaking severely and they spasmed, knocking the glass and sending water cascading down over the polished wood. Akito collapsed onto the mattress, tears of frustration burning in his eyes. To him, it was another sign that from here on in nothing was going to help him anymore. No one wanted to help him and it was his own sorry fault. And now... now he couldn't even help himself.
He thought back to his dream, his dream of memory. At least... he thought it was memory. Dreams were funny like that, the way they made you doubt and question yourself even after you were awake and free from their constricting shackles. The images, whether real or not had been of his childhood; a childhood he knew existed but couldn't remember, save for a few hazy images. None of which comforted him or gave him any reason to smile. No one could tell him, for no one else had been around to witness the first stages of his life.
When Akito had been left in the care of the Elder's of the Main House fourteen years ago; no one quite knew the particulars of his arrival. It was as though he simply appeared from the winter air, conceived of its cold fingers and frost bitten womb. No one knew the truth. It remained hidden in the past, shielded by lack of records, of memory and of plain old secrets.
It was these secrets that were slowly driving him insane.
With a slow pained effort, Akito managed to swing his body over the side of the bed. The wood floor was bitter beneath his feet and a shiver snaked its way up his spine as he searched with blind fingers beneath the bed for his cane. Once upon a time he had rarely a use for it, but now it was a despised necessity. Without it, he would collapse after three steps as he had painfully discovered. Once upon a time's were for the fairy tales and his life, whatever it was, sure as Hell was no fairy tale.
The wooden shaft quickly made acquaintance with his hand and he tilted it upwards, burying the narrow point into the floor, leaning all his weight on it. Finally, he was able to climb unsteadily to his feet and from there he made his way over to the window and gazed out. It was how he spent many a day when he was too ill to go outside. Watching silently from the large circular window as the world passed him by, mocking him because he would never be able to appreciate it. Never be able to feel happiness from all that it had to offer, that it would never offer.
Never... not ever. Because his destiny had been shaped and decided before he was born. From the moment he had taken that first blessed gasp of air, had tasted life in all it's innocent glory, it had already be ordained that he would die. Before he had even been given a name, before anyone could see how he would grow up to look, what color his eyes would be, or what his favorite book was. These were relevant issues, because all that mattered was his status; Family Master, Head of the Sohma family.
The God of the zodiac.
And the cruel fact of it was that he was not privileged to die like everyone else was; without knowing when, how, why or for what reason, oh no. He would die to protect a family who hated and despised him. Die young, sickly, weak and alone, from a curse that no one understood.
It was miserable knowing this. Even worse to be told as soon as you were able to understand articulate speech that you came into this world for one reason only. Not to live.
To die.
Deprived of happiness, bloated with pain, twisted by hatred. These were all words Akito Sohma used to describe his depraved state, though in reality he was much more complex than anyone possibly understood. Then even he understood. He had not known in the first place simply why he had hated so fiercely, why he was so possessive over his zodiac. He had spent years not knowing; not caring and simply living based on these emotions. Acting on the desire to try and quell the anger within. Anything to make that terrible pain go away, if only for a second. But no. Each action only worked to increase and feed the aggression, helping it to grow and flourish into something even more putrid.
A monster.
Then into the picture stepped Tohru Honda. Ah, so innocent and simplistic in appearance, with no other desire but to help others reach their happiness. And it wasn't like she was manipulative or anything either, which Akito found surprising. In every action a person produced, were they not intending for some positive consequence of it, to be rewarded for doing good? Tohru didn't seem that way, no matter how much he scrutinized her from beneath a raised brow and haughty expression. She was genuine, or something. Her presence was a healing hand that she extended to all those who were scarred and hurt.
She was perfect. Perfect to test the zodiac's loyalty and this reason alone was why Akito had allowed her to stay. When she offered them happiness, so sublime and supreme and then turned from the family, as they all inevitably did, then Yuki and Kyou would finally understand. They would all see that he, Akito, was right and turn back to him. Kyou and Yuki were the estranged ones who adamantly refused to accept his role as their ruler and with this girl as an example the thought to change that; to break them in once and for all. Then, the entire zodiac would be within his control. The bond would be even stronger and as a result, the control itself. He would let them see for themselves that it was futile to believe in lasting happiness. No one from outside the Sohma family could understand it's dark heart, no one. The zodiac was... precious to Akito and it was his responsibility to protect them from the scrutiny of the outside world. The evil stares. The cruel whispers. To make them understand what hatred waited for them should they slip up, to teach them so they would not hope without reason, so that their grief... would not kill them.
He could not allow them to suffer as he had...
'Akito, right now you're alive aren't you?'
Akito sighed faintly and placed his fingertips on the cool glass. Beyond it, a small white bird rested serenely on the branches of the cherry blossom tree, watching him. Watching his brain tick.
Tohru Honda.
She had been so different. So rudely different to all the others. At first Akito had thought her too stupid to know what wretched web she had thrown herself into. That it would inevitably lead to a confrontation with the web's owner; the dark spider of the Sohma family, should she draw too much attention to herself. But she had been content to thrash and despite all Akito's subterfuge, revealing Yuki's past, revealing Kyou for what he was, full out threats, she remained constant and caring. Not to him, but to the others that were his. That he had protected all those years by hiding them away from the cruel world in his web, concealing them within the tightly wound cocoon's that he spun around each of them. Blinding them to heartache. Or so he had thought.
When Tohru had come to see him that day, the emotions, the untainted jealousy leapt to the surface. Until then, Akito had been able to control it, hide it behind a false mask of cool politeness and halfhearted smiles. Inside, his guts twisted, his blood boiled as one by one his family, his zodiac had been taken from him by this... this... girl! This ordinary, stupid, ugly girl that stumbled across their secret and became one of them. ... Became one of them? She could never be one of them!! She had never known pain the way they had; had never suffered such as they- such as he had! He could no longer stand her pretentious niceties, her kind tolerance, her understanding. She was supposed to be nothing more then damn proof of the world's cruelty towards people like them. But instead she became their savour. Their protection against... him.
Him... he that was born to die for them, to protect them from the world. It was unbelievable... he could not fathom why they would choose her over him when he sacrificed everything for them. He couldn't see—
But Akito knew that he envied her; envied her place in his zodiac's hearts, the place where he was meant to belong but didn't.
So that day... he lost control for the first time in a long time. If she could not understand what pain was, then hell be damned he would show her! He would make her scream until her eyes bled tears! He would make her suffer the way he had; he would force her away from the Sohma family if she would not go willingly. But she had not yielded. Her will was as strong, or perhaps stronger than his own. She just continued to talk soothingly, trying to calm the anger within him, whilst his fingers gripped her hair ever tightening. Shigure and Yuki were trying to restrain him and Hatori crouched nearby, hesitating in making a public defiance of the family master who had taken his eye. When Akito had screamed at him to erase her memories though, he had stared ahead blankly without any affirmation to the command. He didn't make a move to do as he had been told, a command that was all too familiar too him in hearing and carrying out. That was when Akito knew.
Control was no longer his. He had lost it, to this ordinary, simple, innocent girl. One whom he thought he could play with and then dispose of when he was done, like a child's toy. But she had instead played him.
She made him see, after all these years that what he was doing was wrong, but that it was okay to hurt. Just not to make others hurt. She made him see that he was still alive.
Alive. "Having life; living. In existence."
He was still here. He was still alive.
Such a simple notion, so obvious, but more meaningful to him then anyone understood. They were the words he wanted to hear, had needed to hear. And it was these very words that had prompted him to release his hold on her straight, dark hair. For the first time in his life, Akito showed mercy because he had been shown mercy. In all his days of living, the only one who had ever acknowledged his pain, the deep agonizing, constantly knawing pain in his heart, had been this girl. This ordinary... simple... innocent, girl.
Tohru Honda.
'I don't know what your curse is but... I'm happy. I'm happy I know you. ...Akito.'
He thought about her a lot, wondering how she dealt with her own troubles the pain she never showed. She mentioned that her mother had died. His had too, both his parents had, but he had been too young to remember them. For her, the pain was still so close. In that case, why was she so cheerful? What right did she have to be happy, if she understood pain? How did she do it? Akito wished he knew.
Her smile was venomous to him. Venomous... yet enchanting. Because he wished that he could smile like that, to feel the happiness actually form the quirk of his lips rather than the conscious thought when he felt that a smile was appropriate. How long had it been since he had ever truly been happy? ...How miserable that he could not even remember. It must have been a long time ago for him to forget...
Or was it?
Being doomed made being happy so... difficult. Tohru had won without even playing his game and now as the loser, Akito had resigned himself to the gallows.
He had lost everything.
Now, his body was no longer even his. It belonged to the sickness.
There was nothing left to do but simply... give up.
After Tohru's visit, Akito had stopped speaking. It had been three long months since he had spoke a conscious word and it was only during his sleep, supposedly, that he ever spoke. He wasn't even sure he could do it if he tried. Not that he wanted to.
All he wanted was to hide away from the world. Hide away and die in peace. Like a wounded animal that took itself out, away from the herd to die, so did Akito wish to disappear into the darkness. He did not want to fade away infront of them as they watched. He did not want their appalling sympathy.
He wanted to die.
At long last... he was ready to die.
As if sensing his anguish, the bird dropped eloquently from its perch and took to the air, winging it's way towards the trees of the surrounding woods. Akito watched it go with his usual sense of longing. How he wanted that freedom. To fly away from it all; pain, jealousy, pity, even the desire to be free itself. Soon enough... he told himself, pressing his forehead to the glass. Soon enough you can go... soon it'll all be over.
The sun was sitting high over the tree's, shining bright rays of light through the jagged green branches, twisting them into irregular clumps with no discerning mass. The light that managed to escape through each patch threw erratic shadows on the ground. A flutter of white against the trees drew Akito's attention and he watched as the bird flew down to perch on something. He took another look, wondering if his sleep heavy eyes were playing tricks on him.
It was difficult to tell at a distance, but it looked like there was a person standing beneath one of the foremost tree's, cradling the bird in the palm of it's hand. He figure appeared masculine and was wearing garments that blended in with the surrounding shadows, rendering him almost invisible. As Akito watched, the man turned his head upwards and seemed to gaze right at him. He stared back, unfazed but curious none the less. He continued to watch that very spot even as the figure turned and stepped further into the woods, swallowed by the thick copse of trees. A quick flash of chestnut hair in the afternoon sun and then... nothing. Nothing but the bird flying back towards the cherry blossom tree and settling onto it's mandatory roost, ruffling it's feathers quite disdainfully. As if it had been called away for nothing.
Called away...
Akito was still staring at that area of the woods, when the bedroom door slowly slid open. Kureno Sohma entered slowly, moving with the trained ease of one who had spent most of his life walking respectfully. His slightly pointed face was appropriately devoid of expression that may have appeared rude if one didn't know that he had never learned how to express normal emotion. The 26 year old boy was agoraphobic, well, mildly anyway. His symptoms were such that he could not be outside in the open air or else he would lapse into a series of fits. Buildings were of no issue, but if he could see that there were on walls around him the results could be disastrous. Most believed that this was phobia could be explained by Akito's need to keep him isolated from the other zodiac members and constantly at his side as a servant. That he had never been given the chance conceive his own perception of the outside world and his fear was nothing more than a concoction of second hand opinions and deception fed to him by Akito. Whatever the case, Kureno never offered an explanation. He seemed content to spend his days going about his duties without neither complaint nor conversion. He was a complete mystery to the rest of the family and he only ever spoke to the master or Hatori. Indeed he seemed a little oblivious to the other's existence. That or he was frightened of them. Who knew? Only him.
Kureno tilted his upper body down to draw equal with the height of his waist and then straightened up slowly, showing Akito respect as family master. Then he spoke.
"Akito..." He said blandly, his statement lacking question. "Is there anything you need?"
The voice wasn't exactly expressionless. If Akito had to compare it to anything, he would have say it was similar in quality of that to a shy little boy who was afraid of being reprimanded for something he didn't do. His voice never rose, but occasionally withered so that it became barely a whisper on a whisper. A breath with letters of each word mixed into it like the complex ingredients of a soup, flowing from his mouth gently and without any sort of opinion in it. Kureno had learnt, long ago that to be opinionated was to invite punishment unto yourself. Thoughts of that nature were to remain concealed behind thin lips, dark eyes and an unemotional disposition. If Hatori was as cold as winter, than Kureno was as apathetic as autumn; a thick, thoroughly worn shield that couldn't be penetrated. And even if you could pick beneath the surface, there would be a million and one other defenses spread out before you like a great battalion. Kureno guarded himself well.
Despite being a complete enigma, Akito never doubted Kureno's loyalty. The boy had been with him since he was a child, a playmate as well as servant. But even though their past together wound back through many years, Akito was not certain that Kureno felt anything towards him other than some obligatory duty. Locked up his entire life, with no purpose other than to serve. But then again... was it any different to what he himself had suffered? Kureno had been given to him as a gift. As though he were some mere plaything to bide his time with, until the day of his death. And when that happened... what would be Kureno's purpose, if the one he was born to serve had died?
Shaking himself from his thoughts, Akito gestured without turning, to the bucket and spilt glass. Kureno turned his head sharply to look, his movements noticeably bird like. Undoubtedly so, because he was the rooster of the zodiac.
"I will clean it up immediately, sir." He said whimsically, walking over to the bucket and bending down to pick it up. "One minute."
He left the room, taking both the glass and the bucket with him. Akito limped back over to the bed and sat down, facing out towards the window. He wondered if he had really seen the figure out by the trees or if it was a trick of light or even another illusion of the curse. It had thrown everything else at him, why not manifestations? But something... he wasn't sure what, told him that what he had seen was not some hallucination conjured up by a sickly mind or the dense shadows of the trees' arms. He had felt eyes upon him; he had felt like he was being watched.
There was someone out there. Trespassing. He would have to alert Hatori.
The door slid open and Kureno reentered with a clean bucket, a new glass of water and a cleaning cloth. He put the bucket down beside the bed, making sure it sat perfectly between the rings of condensation left by the previous bucket and then moved around to hand the glass to Akito. The family master drank quickly, eager to wash the bitter after taste of bile from his mouth. Kureno nodded once at him, smiling gently, before he set to work wiping up the spilled water consistently and cheerlessly. Occasionally he would reach up to brush back a strand of his long brown fringe whenever it obscured his vision, but that was the only subtle variation in his task. Akito watched this meaningless chore, feasting on the movements and the healthy body as though in some small way it could compensate for not being able to work this way himself. And for the first time he wondered just what the man was thinking.
Hatred? Apathy? Anything at all? What was going on behind those sallow brown eyes? Did he feel anything for Akito, other than the learned desire to serve him? Who was he?
Really?
Why did he continually ask himself these questions when he knew there would be no answer? Somehow... Akito knew it was to keep some small part of himself sane, to keep slick and oiled the tiny cogs and wheels that were his delicate mind in order. To keep them running and never failing. He was scared to think of what might happen if he ever laxed in these mind games, these language gymnastics as he liked to refer to them. What if his mind were to one day simply crack and darkness would pour in from all sides and consume him? Would he even really be himself any more?
It was so frightening to feel that despair and Akito could feel a lump forming in his throat; a tight little constriction that wedged firmly into place just behind his Adam's Apple. But the lump didn't fade along with his thoughts. It remained and it blocked every gasp of air from entering, making his lungs screech with the desperate need for oxygen. Then there was simply the absence of the lump, but there was no breath. He couldn't breathe! Something unseen was choking him, hands of no origin tight around his neck, crushing his windpipe. He struggled to draw anything into his lungs but no air came. His eyes rolled and his heart started beating erratically against the wall of his chest, trying to break through the muscle and sinew. Akito knew he was hyperventilating, knew that he had to try and calm down or else he'd have an anxiety attack. Somehow he knew it was a little late for this. He was already half way into a panic. His mind was screaming at him; 'You're gonna die! You're gonna die! You're gonna die!!' repeatedly shrieking the words around and around inside of his cranium as though it were the inside of a washing machine. And Akito believed them. He was going to die, here and now!!
"K—" He hated himself for speaking that single letter and hated even more that the rest of the name would have followed, if he could have drawn enough breath to speak. "K—K-uh!! K-UH!!" It sounded like an obscure hiccup, the kind you would suffer as a result of indigestion. But Kureno understood. Having seen this situation many a time and even suffering through it himself, he knew what to do and immediately abandoned his task for a more important one. His hand was inside one of the bedside drawers before anyone could blink. He rummaged for a second and then withdrew a long neatly pressed paper bag, kept there for such occasions. Kureno jammed his opposite hand inside, separating the sides and approached Akito, gently guiding him back onto the bed. He placed one arm securely beneath his head and placed the paper bag over his mouth, leaning down against him to contain his violent thrashing.
"Tilt your head back Akito." He said calmly, pushing the younger mans delicate chin upwards. Akito desperately clutched the base of the paper bag, crying as he continued to thrash and breathe all at once. "We must clear your airways. Don't be afraid, I'm right here. It's okay."
Akito wanted to scream had he been able to. He doesn't understand what this feels like!! My chest is going to explode! I'm going to die! I'm going to die! I'm going to die...
His breathing grew harsher, back heaving with the effort of trying to control his respiration. His toes curled into hard digits, his fingernails tearing into the base of the bag and imbedding small pieces of paper beneath each white cuticle. Still Kureno held him down, using his free hand now to stroke his head whilst he continued to speak those awful, wonderful calming words.
"You must stay calm. There is air enough, you just have to calm down to accept it Akito. Breathe in... feel the air in your lungs. It's there Akito, watch as I breathe. See? Here it is... just breathe now sir... good, you're doing fine. Good boy... easy does it now..."
It took a full minute for Akito to relax long enough to start breathing normally. Kureno made sure that he was fully calm before gently extracting the paper bag from between his tightly clenched fingers. The blessed air was sweet agony on his aching lungs, sweet release from the sharp pain. He continued to breathe in slow successions, gradually feeling his toes unfurl and his fingers lax out of shape.
Kureno gave a slight nod and released him, sitting up on the bed and wiping his forehead with his shirtsleeve. He had been perspiring the entire time. Once he was ready he bent down to retrieve the cloth he'd dropped, swiftly mopping up the remaining mess and finally standing up to gaze down at the shaking, shivering boy.
"Just rest there for a little while." He said soothingly, picking up the empty glass left on the dressing table. "I'll see to it that Hatori comes in to check on you. Though I think you'll be fine for the moment. Page me, if you have any further need of me."
He moved to walk away and before he even knew that he was doing it, Akito lashed out and snagged the corner of Kureno's shirt. He buried his face against the material, shaking his head briskly like an innocent child pleading with a parent not to be left alone after a nightmare. Only this nightmare came to him every second he was awake and he knew not how to escape it. All he knew was that he was still terrified. Still scared that if he was to be left alone for even an instant, then the curse would try to claim him again.
He didn't want to be alone. Not in life, not in death.
He pulled Kureno backward towards the bed and encouraged him to sit down. The rooster responded dutifully, sitting with his hands folded in his lap and eyes deterred away from Akito's line of sight. A sign of respect, of the pecking order. But Akito wasn't interested in any of that. He moved closer, fingering the buttons on Kureno's shirt, nuzzling his forehead into his shoulder. Kureno swallowed very noticeably, though he did his best to conceal it.
"Akito... is there something else that is troubling you?" He asked a little stoically, glancing quickly from the corner of his eye. The family master shuffled closer still, gripping the shirt with one hand whilst the other roamed up to nestle across the crown of Kureno's head. His actions seem guided by some unknown force and though he knew they were not familiar with the way he usually acted, he sensed something within each movement that seemed uncanny... like deja vu. A memory that dangled just tantalizingly out of reach like a carrot tied to a stick before an inquisitive donkey. Akito could almost just reach it...
His fingers wound around a strand of Kureno's short hair, twisting it over his nail and savoring the feel. He rested up against him; head tucked under his chin in child like submission and legs curled up close to his chest. Kureno could feel his heart speed up, not from Akito being so close or touching him in this way, but from the similarity of his posture. It was so... familiar... It made his stomach churn and an unprecedented sickness seemed to well up within him. Akito didn't even seem aware of who Kureno was anymore. He was like a puppet, a mere representation of another that may have sat where he sat a long time ago. In another life time... in another world...
Akito rubbed his cheek against the curve of Kureno's chest.
"Lucky..." He whispered.
Kureno's eyes bulged.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Shigure and Hatori glanced up in shock as Kureno barreled out of Akito's room, trying to pry the family master off of him. They stared in fascinated horror at the un-thought of scene before them; Akito was trying to wrap his arms around Kureno's chest who in turn was gently trying to push him away. But his actions were frenzied, desperate. Spittle flew from his lips and he seemed terribly frightened.
Shigure was the first to speak. "What in the world—"
"GET HIM OFF ME!!" Kureno yelled in response and Shigure jerked back, shocked more than anything to hear Kureno shouting. He was usually such a sedate fellow.
Hatori stepped toward the hallway, trying to decide on what course of action to take. He couldn't understand what was going on. The situation was... bizarre. That was the only way to describe it.
"What's going on here?" He finally settled on. Kureno, trying to tear Akito's hands off of him, stared directly into Hatori's face, his expression aghast as though he had seen a ghost. His eyes were widened to the point that they nearly burst from the sockets and the veins in his neck stood out as obviously as the lines on a road map. It was horrifying...
"Help me!!" Kureno hissed and gave Akito an almighty shove in the chest. The family master slid to the ground, his hands snagging at Kureno's belt and holding on tight. The rooster slapped at his fingers as though Akito were some foul leper hounding for money. It was a confusing display. Out of all of them, Kureno would be the last to ever raise a hand in harm against Akito. And now, he was shunning him.
Hatori grew bold and stormed forward, long bangs swishing from the abruptness of his movements. Shigure was slower to follow, only because he was uncertain as to whether or not they should interfere. Something just wasn't right, apart from the obviousness. Something he couldn't quite place his finger on. It was almost as though... someone else was hanging off of Kureno. Someone who wasn't Akito.
"Fuck you..."
A voice peeled from Akito's lips like a sticker, the moldy dryness akin to that of a withered dusty corpse. If the dead could posses a voice. Hatori froze as a horrendous odor suddenly washed over him from nowhere and he retched, recognizing the putrid waft of human excrement and something like rot. Mould and time, that each had their way with a human body. Shigure wasn't close enough to smell it, but he heard the voice and halted in his footsteps, his shoe toe trailing along the ground as he stalled in mid-step.
Kureno was shuddering, gagging from the stench and still trying to remove Akito from him. The boy slowly looked up and his eyes focused on each of them in turn. Nothing about his physical appearance had changed, and this somehow scared them more.
"Always taking... always... never giving back what you have taken... animals... beasts... cursed creatures..." The voice from Akito said and then, inexplicably it was gone. All that was left was the dark haired boy himself, the vessel. Tears shone wet on his face as he scratched at the sides of Kureno's shirt with his long nails, pleading with him silently. And then...
"Lucky..." He whispered.
Hatori visibly jumped at the sound of Akito's voice. He straightened up, free now of the crippling smell and gazed down at the petite family master. Kureno too gazed at him, though his expression was not one of pity. It was nothing.
"I'm. Not. Him." He stated firmly and then shrugged Akito's hands off of him.
For a moment there was merely silence. Shigure took another step but did so in respect of the quiet. His large brown eyes seemed entranced with the scene before him, trying ahead of time to figure out just what was happening. Hatori was tense, sensing a reaction stemming up inside of the family master. He wasn't wrong either.
A minute passed before Akito's face twisted into the familiar mask of rage. It happened like a ripple; the stone dropped in that became the catalyst, each tiny wave fanning out in his mind until it reached his face and formed a tsunami of anger. The need for comfort was being replaced by that usual desire to hurt.
So Kureno feared him as well? Hated him as well? He had pretended to be loyal and trust worthy all those years because he too was afraid? Just like all the others... TRAITOR!! Akito wanted to scream, but with no way of saying it, he allowed his actions to speak. He snapped forward, slapping one hand against the boys' throat and curling his fingers around the slim curve of his neck. Kureno's bottom lip trembled and he whimpered audibly, closing his eyes in fear.
Shigure reacted. As soon as he saw that hand twitch he was moving, dashing toward the pair as quickly as he could. He had to shove Hatori out of the way who still seemed frozen in shock, his mind desperately trying to interpret the situation whilst threatening to cave in on itself. There was no time for that, Shigure knew. If he stopped to think, the fear might have become so overwhelming that he would simply collapse to the floor, shaking and shivering at the implication of what that voice could be. What it meant.
The thoughts alone were too horrible.
So he ran. He ran straight at Akito's wrist, aiming for that visible patch of pale against red sleeves. His hand closed around it, feeling the sharp bone digging into the palm of his hand and tried to wretch it away. It was a foolish idea. Akito's nails dragged and dug into Kureno's neck, hooking deep into the skin as Shigure yanked. Kureno cried out, grasping at Akito's hand and trying to remove the nails that were drawing blood. They were sharp enough to cut directly in and he could feel them piercing him. The pain was terrible.
Shigure tried another tactic of grabbing Akito's shoulders and trying to pick him up and move him away. Kureno came with him, sobbing and choking. Akito raised his free hand and slapped him hard, the blow almost taking the roosters' head off. Kureno stumbled and tripped, the nails tearing themselves free from his neck as he landed hard on the floor. The wind was knocked from his lungs. He bled.
"Please Akito!" He managed to sob, tears streaming down his thin face. "I didn't mean to upset you! But I'm not who you want me to be!! I won't lie to you!! ...Please don't hurt me for my honesty..."
You hurt me you traitorous fowl!! Akito's mind screamed as he struggled against Shigure's grip. He managed to kick Kureno in the head whilst his legs flailed, sending the older man rolling across the floor. He hit a closed door and tumbled into an adjacent room, face pressed up against a gap in the wooden floorboards. Something shimmered distinctly in the darkness.
Hatori finally spurred himself into action and rushed to Kureno's side. He placed both hands on the other mans shoulder, asking hurriedly if he was all right. Kureno coughed in reply and gave a slight nod. His eye fixed on that thing below the floorboards.
Shigure meanwhile seemed to be physically wrestling Akito back into his room, the latter who was kicking and thrashing to the best of his strength. The door was still open so he was able to back inside and toss, for lack of a better word, Akito onto the bed. After this he bolted for the doorway, barely avoiding a glass as it shattered into the wall beside his head.
Akito screamed hoarse guttural noises after him; mentally damning him to any and every hell that ever existed.
I hate you all!! He thought, sinking to the floor and covering his face with his hands. I hate you all, because you have no love for me.
His shoulders shook in silent convulsions and for the first time ever, he prayed to die. He begged God, the Buddha, O'yama, whoever the Hell would listen, to end his suffering and the suffering he had caused others, once and for all.
I'm ready to die.
Do you hear that God? I am ready to die.
*
Shigure rubbed at his forehead as he returned to the room where Kureno lay. Hatori was gently trying to help him stand. Shigure shook his head as he saw the mess the poor roster's face was. One eye was swollen shut and his nose was split down the center, pouring blood down his face like there was no tomorrow. Not broken, but not exactly pleasant either.
"So... what was all that about?" Shigure asked as they made their way out into the main area of the house. Kureno gazed at him through his one open eye and then gave a soft shake of his head, lowering his face as though he needed to address Shigure with respect too.
"Ask no questions... and I'll tell you no lies." He said, spitting as blood ran into his mouth. "Forgive me Master Shigure but... it is a personal matter."
Shigure raised an eyebrow. "Well... okay if you say so. Can't say I even begin to understand what you mean but—"
"That'll do Shigure." Hatori said and his tone was serious enough to indicate that the conversation should cease immediately. "Kureno, you are a mess. Let's go to my office and I will clean you up."
Kureno glanced back and forth between his two cousins and though his face resembled little more than a mutilated hamburger, he managed to twist his expression into that of a serious one.
"Please don't inform any of the other family members about what has happened here today." He said sternly, looking particularly hard at Shigure. It was true that he didn't exactly approve of the inu who lived away from the main estate and allowed the cat to live under his roof. Shigure blinked back at him as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "This is something... that need not concern anyone. ...Just yet." He added as an afterthought.
Shigure scratched his head gingerly. "Well... I don't know if something like this is going to be easy to keep quiet. What went on back there makes me think that something is going on that concerns the family as a whole."
"No one is to know!!" Kureno cried desperately and he rushed forward to grab at Shigure's shirt, looking him in the eye with some of the familiar jittery nervousness. Though he was ashamed to admit it, Shigure immediately felt calmer, know that Kureno was acting like he normally did, not with that calm surety of knowing something no one else knew, doo da, doo da. That frightened him more than the wild eyed man he saw before him now and he had to be honest; he did kind of manipulate the conversation to get that persona to pop back up again. And now that it was here, he felt better once more.
Shigure made a peace sign with his fingers. "If you say so!" He chirped with a wide smile as if there was nothing wrong in the world. Kureno visibly relaxed and gave a nod of approval.
"Then all is well." He said, moving back over to Hatori and taking his arm. Just before they stepped over to the door however, he paused and turned back to the inu. "Um... thankyou for helping me back there." His cheeks flushed red and he gave a little bow.
Shigure waved a hand. "Always glad to be of service!"
"Shigure." Hatori said sharply. Shigure looked at him, both eyebrows raised to indicate observance. "That... problem of Ayame's you wished to discuss with me... I'm afraid I must delay it in light of other things."
Shigure sweatdropped. "I... uh, don't know if Aya's going to take anything as an excuse. You know what he's like..." He said a little fondly. Then smiled. "Never mind! I'll take his mind off of it one way or the other."
"Are the two of you a couple?" Kureno asked gently. His voice lacked judgement but seeped with a profound curiosity. Shigure nodded.
"Two months now."
Kureno considered this for a while and his face widened into a brief, calculating smile. "About time." He muttered, allowing Hatori to lead him away by the arm. The dragon chuckled at his response, delighted by it. Shigure beamed after them as the door slid shut but in the silence that followed, he found himself at a loss at what to do. He had come here with only Ayame in mind, but now Akito and Kureno both weighed heavy on his thoughts. Both men had been ordained destinies that neither one of them wanted and now they had come to blows, something he had never thought would happen. Not ever. All this suffering without purpose. When would it end? Would it ever end?
And more importantly, why did it begin in the first place?
These thoughts were getting him nowhere, so Shigure checked his watch, moving into a sunny patch of the room so that he could see the numbers. When it came to reading he was pretty much useless without his glasses. 3:10. Ayame would be expecting him back soon. Still, before he left Shigure thought he should do his bit and quickly check up on Akito. For three months the Sohma master had been silent and pensive, a comparison uncanny to that of a spider preparing to strike. And now it had... but it was unusual tactics for Akito, however irregular his violent episodes had been in the past. Something in his emotions had triggered this attack and Shigure couldn't help but wonder what. He had always been marginally close to the family master but lately, he hadn't been able to understand his reasoning at all. It was as though he had... lost the will to care. There was no clear line between right and wrong anymore and he lashed out without any concern for the consequences.
Shigure buried his hands in his pockets and walked slowly up the stairs towards Akito's room. The door was still slightly ajar and broken glass was scattered around the frame, glittering in the sunlight that streaked in from a nearby window. Shigure carefully side stepped it and pushed the door open, keeping one arm positioned in front of his face in case Akito wasn't finished with his tantrum.
No attack came so Shigure risked sticking his head into the room. The family master lay curled on the bed, legs drawn up tight to his chest. He seemed to be holding something to his heart but since he was facing away from the door, Shigure had no idea what it could be. He did notice however the sobs that echoed around the large, cold room and the way Akito's shoulders shook. It was something Shigure had never expected to see in his life.
The hostile Akito, the dark heart of the Sohma family... crying.
*
When Hatori was done patching him up, Kureno made his way back to that room. He crouched down and examined the gap he had found. His hand was just thin enough to reach inside...
Author note: Ooh cliffhanger, cliffhanger, cliffhanger! What will happen next time? Not telling! Hah, gonna have to wait to see yourselves! Anyway R and R if you will! (And please no flames! I hate making that request but they really hurt my feelings and I'm a big sook!)
