Author's Note: And here we get some dancing around the shounen-ai. If ya don't like it, don't read it! Also, I seem to be losing betas. Anyone who's interested in possibly betaing for me, please drop by my writing-focused lj and leave a comment. Betas do need to have their own lj... And thanks to Kurai for ignoring her homework to beta this for me!

Disclaimer: Fruits Basket is owned by a bunch of people who aren't me. I make no money off this. In fact, I probably loose money due to this obsession. Maybe I should sue someone...

4
My grandfather tells me the tales that his grandfather told him. I hear of the stories lost in a fire long ago, so that there are no written records. He tells me that, once, the baby dragon would grow and become a great dragon, as the Dragon grew. I do not know if I believe this, but I will let future generations judge.
-Sohma Nobu, Snake, 1548

Hatori knew he was dreaming, at first. Only in dreams could he swim through the sea and sky equally. Only when he dreamed was his zodiac form glorious. Then the knowledge of dreaming slid away, and he simply reveled in flight, speed and heat.

Light grew around him as he soared towards the sun, and the ocean fell away behind him. The joy of flight drew him upwards, and he ignored the warmth of the sun in favor of the rush of air under his wings. The wind chanted in his ears a confirmation of life, and he had some sense of the oneness with his other form.

Hatori had heard Ayame and Shigure talk about the animal part of their minds, and how they often felt most at peace when they were in tune with their zodiac natures. Or they would make a comment about how they had done something with the animals that naturally flocked around them. Most of the time, he couldn't even move when he changed, and there weren't exactly schools of seahorses around that could flock to him at his command. Through the fog of dream reality, butterfly-winged seahorses swam up around him, only to scatter when he snorted at just how silly they looked.

His thoughts were interrupted by the dry heat that was starting to creep over his skin. Hatori thrashed around, trying to find the water, but he was lost in a sky of hot, bright blue, and the sun was pulling him in deeper. His mouth was too dry to give voice to his cry as the heat dragged him up, and his vision went to white.

Sound came first--the wind rushing past him, parching his throat, his skin. Even his eyes felt dry. Slowly blue and brown shapes resolved before his eye. The sun baked him from above and the hot sand from below. His tail and fins twitched uselessly, not even stirring the scorching air, as the dunes loomed over his seahorse form. He was surrounded by footprints that all led away from him, and the wind was wearing away any sign that people had ever been near him.

Of course they turned their backs on him, he stole himself from their memories, and they slowly faded from his. He was the "funny" one, who didn't even have a proper animal form. He was the one who pushed them away until they finally left. He was the one who always brought harm to the people around him. Even his so-called gift brought as much harm as help.

The wind's tone shifted to a howl, driving into his skull and turning the discomfort to pain. He awoke to the pop and smoke that announced his own shift back to human form, the howling stopping as suddenly as it has started, as Ayame stopped yelling in panic at Shigure.

()
She spends all her energy helping other people. I'm really bad at that sort of thing.
-Ayame

When Shigure returned to Hatori's house, he had told Ayame that he was back, and then went back to revising on the couch. It was still too early in the day to call home, and for all that he liked to tease his editor about not being finished, he only liked to do it when it was a lie.

Ayame had been quietly sewing, or at least quietly pretending to sew while watching Hatori sleep. It was unlikely that Ayame had finished a single seam--or that he would finish a single seam before Hatori's fever broke--but Shigure would never dream of having his cousin anywhere but here.

Despite all his worrying and plotting, Shigure was able to lose himself in his work. He was reworking a key bit of dialog, when some dissonant, panicked yodeling jerked him back to the present. "'Gure-san, 'Gure-san, 'Tori-san transformed and I don't know what to do and he needs to take more medicine, and do I give him a normal dose or a seahorse sized dose, and 'Gure-san, what do I do?!"

Shigure pointedly didn't run down the hall. He wanted to, but the last thing he wanted to do was slip and injure himself. He did, perhaps, open the door a little too forcefully, and he narrowly missed hitting Ayame in the face with it. Before he could say anything, Ayame started yelling again; he had only stopped to catch his breath. Doing his best to ignore Ayame, Shigure retrieved a set of handwritten instructions from the floor. He flipped to the sheet he needed, and checked his watch. Two minutes before he officially needed to worry--not that he wasn't already concerned--Hatori changed back, coughing at the smoke.

"Ayame, too loud." Hatori's voice was quiet and raspy, but Ayame cut off mid-word and gesture to kneel by the futon.

"'Tori-san." The one word was full of affection and relief. Off to the side, Shigure watched his favorite cousins. Ayame was happy to be finally able to do something besides wait, and Hatori... Hatori looked miserable and confused, but pleased to see Ayame. "How are you?"

Hatori coughed a few times before saying, "Thirsty."

"Hear that, 'Gure-san? He's thirsty! We should get him-" Ayame turned around glowing with purpose.

Hatori handed him the bottle of cough medicine and a spoon. Ayame's eyebrow twitched to express his opinion of such a dirty trick. Shigure shrugged and smiled, indicating that he didn't care, but it would work. "You can blame me. I'll go get him something to drink. Make sure he stays awake until the tea is ready."

Shigure headed for Hatori's small kitchen, mostly so that he wouldn't annoy his poor, sick cousin by laughing at whatever response the medicine got.

When he returned with the tea, Ayame was still apologizing, but he'd also gotten Hatori back into his pajamas. That hadn't even occurred to Shigure, which, on reflection, probably proved how perverted he was.

Hatori regarded the tea suspiciously, and Shigure didn't blame him. Shigure had also brought three mugs with the teapot, so that he could prove his innocent intentions. "Haa-san, don't give me that look! I'm a much better cook than Yuki-kun, you know. Why don't you sit up?"

"Tried." Hatori coughed. "Room spun."

"Ah, well, that's very inconsiderate of the room, isn't it?" Hatori sneezed in what Shigure presumed was agreement. "Well, you can lean against Aaya, so that I still have my hands free to pour the tea. That way Aaya won't put too much sugar in your tea." Shigure managed to babble over all of Hatori's attempts to keep his dignity, and soon Ayame was on lounging on the futon with Hatori half in his lap. Shigure stayed next to the futon so his sick cousin wouldn't feel too crowded.

Hatori was clearly not happy about leaning against Ayame. He had never indulged in the casual touching that Shigure and Ayame were comfortable with, and he had physically withdrawn from them even more since... since his eye was damaged. On the other hand, he was coaxed into drinking three half mugs of tea, so Shigure didn't care if his cousin was happy with the arrangement. Best of all, they only had to stop Hatori from trying to go do something else twice--though it seemed Hatori had been about to get up more times than that, and had thought better of it.

Hatori was starting to drift off to sleep again as Shigure tidied up the tea tray. When they started to help him back into his covers, he held onto Ayame's arm and said, "Stay."

Shigure would have laughed at the pure astonishment on Ayame's face if he hadn't been equally shocked. Ayame tried to pull away anyway. "But, 'Tori-san, you..."

"Ayame, stay, please."

"I... Of course, I'll stay. I'll be right by the window." Ayame looked at Shigure with 'What should I do' written across his face.

Hatori was half-asleep already, but his grip was as firm as he could manage. "Stay here. Stay holding..."

Shigure watched the naked emotions on Ayame's face. Ayame wanted to hear Hatori say things like that almost desperately, but to hear those things because the fever drove him to need physical contact.... This was cruelty on a level that not even Akito could devise. Ayame's face was as close to blank as he could manage when he whispered, "I will."

Shigure silently helped Ayame settle Hatori into the blankets without letting go. There was a moment of confusion where they silently tried to sort out if Ayame would be under the blankets or on top of them. Ayame won, and stayed out of the blankets. Shigure countered by getting an extra blanket from the linen closet and setting it where Ayame could reach. "Aaya, you might want to nap, too. I'll be back in two hours with something for Haa-san to drink."

"You're going out?" Ayame looked close to panicking again, an interesting dichotomy to the gentle way he held Hatori.

Shigure shook his head. "No. I just really have to get this manuscript finalized. I'll leave the door open so you can yell for me?"

"Yeah, sure." Ayame's voice was dull, painful in its neutrality.

"Aaya? I...." Shigure shook his head, and didn't say any of the dozen things that wouldn't be comforting anyway. "Try to rest while you can." They both knew how much worse it would get.

A/N: Ayame's quote comes from Ch 22, Tokyo-pop translation.

WaterGirlShaman: Thanks and lookie, I did!

Kuroicho: The pairings seem to be fluid, but yeah, that might happen a little. Of course, dogs aren't exactly monogamous...

Aura Black Chan: But Akito is so very fun to write!

Elizabeth: Thank you! I was afraid I'd gotten confusing instead of intricate.

the-kaiba-heir: My spellchecker keeps trying to give you capital letters, but I shall not let it, as I am the Sock Rocker! And that is so going to be my superhero name. XD

Tairi: Glad you like! And I'm afraid that Akito is gonna stick around, because every story needs a villain. Bwahahahahaha! Ahem. There must have been something stuck in my throat.

BC1: Thank you!