Disclaimer: sobs must I do this all the time? deep breath FURUBAISNOTMINE! There.
I like watching Shigure work. It's always so peaceful, just the sound of his breathing, the clickety-clack of the computer keys, and the occasional cursing when a word or phrase doesn't sound right. He is always so carefree, always smiling as if he doesn't have a care in the world but when he's writing, he becomes someone completely different. He knits his eyebrows together and purses his lips, sometimes removing his glasses to chew on the ends. He looks so… thoughtful. It's soothing in a way; that someone so relaxed can break out of the norm and be a little serious.
"Shigureeeee!" a boyish voice nearly sings out. It's Ayame, Yuki's rather eccentric older brother. He smiles, showing perfect pearly whites and I swoop closer. Peering into his face, so close that if he were to move an inch he would pass right through me, I stare into his face looking, watching for any signs of any emotion besides blissful happiness. "Oh Shigure, I haven't been to see you in AGES!" he slips off his shoes and drapes himself carelessly over his writer friend.
"Hello there, Aya." Shigure sighs and turns off the computer. He knows he certainly won't get any work done with the snake there to distract him.
"Gure-san? Have you noticed how—depressed Yuki has been?" Ayame's cheerful façade is dropped and he looks worried. Good, at least he has SOME brotherly feelings in him. Shigure knits his eyebrows back together and the lines on his forehead crease dramatically. He stares straight at me but I know he can't see me and puts a finger to his cheek.
"Yes, I have. It's impossible not to notice. He doesn't eat, refuses to talk, won't smile. He's not the same." Shigure nods slowly in agreement to his friend's words. Ayame opens his mouth to say something when they hear the front door open and the sounds of footsteps. Aya ducks behind the desk and Shigure opens the door, pokes his head out. "Yuki-kun?" I leave then, whooshing past Shigure. I follow the faint sounds of crying and enter the room.
Yuki is curled up on his bed, looking defeated. I long to reach out and touch him on the shoulder and let him know that he doesn't have to feel guilty. He doesn't have to torture himself with this. But I cannot touch him, cannot reach out to him, cannot speak to him. He picks something up, something silver and metal and sharp. And he smiles to himself. I know what he is thinking, what he wants to do. I watch him helplessly as he rolls up the sleeve of his left arm, all the way up to the elbow. I can do nothing but stand next to him and watch as the blade cuts slowly, deeply into the soft flesh on the underside of his arm. Dark red crimson spills out, beads on his arm and drops. A hiss of pain but then an almost gasp of almost pleasure. The bloodied knife goes back, again and again, higher and higher up his arm and the crimson life flows out of him like nothing, eager anxious to escape the confines of his body. I watch as warm burgundy blossoms when it hits his bedsheets, the white cotton zealously absorbing the thick liquid and spreading the color out, as if to fill itself with his life's essence.
He smiles to himself as he watches the blood flow out of him, as he sees the intricately carved details bloom red. The knife drops from his hand, slipping from his grasp like he is too weak to hold it up. His face pales dramatically as more blood is lost and his chest heaves with the effort to keep breathing. Damn.
"H-help." whispers soft from his lips but I doubt that the other two heard it. He falls backward and the abused arm drops at his side, clearly visible should anyone care to walk in. I try uselessly to stay the flow but I cannot. He is still awake but too weak to hold himself up.
"Shigure! Ayame! That kuso nezumi's gonna die if you don't do anything!" I scream, racing back into the study. I see Shigure's ears perk up and he casts a strange glance in the direction of Yuki's room and my mouth drops open. He heard me? But no, he stands up abruptly, interrupting Ayame's concerned ramblings.
"What is it, Gure-chan?" but either Shigure didn't hear that or he chose to ignore it, I don't know. They walked towards Yuki's room and now I can hear what caught Shigure's attention. Laughing. They burst inside and see him covered in blood and a faint squeak of fright issues from Ayame. Yuki stops the soft chuckling that must make it so much harder to breathe and then his purple eyes close into welcomed darkness. He is slipping away already, dancing teasingly at the edge of a precipice, ready to fall or maybe to jump. Shigure goes pale but turns into the effective machine that he only becomes when the situation is dire.
"Aya, call Hatori, right away. Then go get a few towels and soak them in warm water, hurry!" he snaps, not out of anger but more out of worry and Aya scurries away. "Dammit Yuki. One death is enough. Losing Kyo was hard enough. Losing you on top of that-" he turned away and grabbed the warm towels that the snake had just brought. He wipes away the blood, gently and gasps seeing the designs crudely carved. He raises the hand above Yuki's head and wraps the slashes with several towels, not too hard but not too loosely. He wipes the hair off Yuki's sweat-slicked forehead and murmurs tersely, "hang in there, Yuki."
"Shigure!" Hatori's strong voice resonates through the house and he doesn't bother to take off his shoes before running inside. He takes in the blood-spattered Yuki, the once white bedsheet and Shigure, sitting amidst all the gore, with eyes shimmering unnaturally. "Shit. He's lost too much blood. C'mon, we must get him to a hospital." Hatori scoops Yuki up and carries him to the car. The other two follow and slide in as well; Ayame up front and Shigure in the back, Yuki's head resting in his lap. I sit above Yuki and watch him for signs of life.
"Yuki, you have to wake up. You can't just give up so easily." I beg him, my hand stroking his face. He stirs and I jerk back. Getting to the hospital takes all of ten minutes when normally it would take thirty. Hatori ignores every traffic rule there ever was written, his face taut, eyes wide. Ayame grips the armrests and presses his body as close to the chair as possible. He is terrified both for his younger brother and the reckless way his cousin is driving.
"I need a doctor!" Hatori shouts, sounding more like an impassioned boy than his usual reserved doctor act. Everything happens in a blur and before I realize it, they are rolling him away, barking orders at each other. Ayame chokes back a sob but it echoes in the silent room and the other two men turn to him. His lip trembles but he tries valiantly anyways to smile. It doesn't work and the others can see right past the wobbly grin.
"Aya-chan--?" Hatori begins but Aya interrupts.
"I knew something was wro-o-ong!" he wails loudly and bows his head, sleek silver hair flowing over his shoulders like water to hide and shield his fair face. "I knew it and I d-di-idn't d-do anyth-thi-ing t-to-o-o he-elp!" he is almost indiscernible between the sobs and gulps of air. Hatori puts his hand on Ayame's left shoulder and Shigure puts his hand on the right. They cling to each other, each dealing in his own way. I can hear Ayame's loud, dramatic crying, Hatori's frequent sniffs as he tries his best to reign in his emotions, and Shigure's dog-like whimpers. The nurses that pass by, their white shoes squeaking on the tile floor, cast them sympathetic looks; these three beautiful men, they sigh, what could possibly have happened to them? A man in a white lab coat approaches them and they look up, assaulting the tired doctor's eyes with noses dripping, eyes that look as though they've stayed open for too long, and wet cheeks, the fresh liquid catching the fluorescent light.
"Are you here for Sohma Yuki?" the man inquires, his eyes lingering too long on Ayame. The other two flush indignantly at his obvious longing on the doctor's face. "We managed to get him stable. He's being transferred to his room. He'll be awake by tomorrow or the day after at the latest but I would like to keep him here for at least a week, just to make sure no complications arise." He is speaking only to Ayame, who blushes and flutters his long silver eyelashes flirtingly. Hatori pulls him closer, possessive of the smaller man. The doctor notices this and takes in Shigure's slightly curled top lip, a silent snarl forming in his throat, his eyes a challenge. Doctor clears his throat uncomfortably. I smile indulgently at them. Shigure and Ayame are both theatrical and dramatic but Hatori is not one to publicly show his affection. He is slowly being influenced and pretty soon, he will be wearing a kimono like Shigure or acting just as flamboyant as Ayame. I almost feel sorry for him. The poor man is doomed, no matter how hard he resists.
But my impatience to see Yuki drives away these thoughts and I walk through the halls trying to find him. In one room, the door is slightly ajar and I catch a glimpse of that brilliant silver hair. I float through the door and settle myself on the bed, next to him. It is amazing how graceful he looks, even in a chemical-induced sleep, even when he flutters so dangerously at the threshold of death. He seems to be made of glass, pure and beautiful, but so fragile, something to be handled with extreme care and reverence. His eyelashes flutter on his pale cheeks, resting softly on that soft skin. His arm is bandaged but even so, I can see where his wounds have almost bled through. A small beam of moonlight shines on him, giving him an angelic appearance and he is flawless in my eyes. I brush my hand on his forehead, a butterfly's kiss, wishing that I could feel the soft silk of his hair through my fingers. I can't help but feel sorry for him, much as I used to hate him. I used to hate him. The past tense rolls on my tongue.
"I used to hate him." Saying it feels… right somehow. "I like him?" The last word rises in pitch and I end my sentence as a question. Do I like him? I glance back down at him and my question answers itself. I can feel my eyes begin to water but I blink them back, feeling them trembling at the edge of my lashes, quivering anticipating their descent. They are not tears of sorrow nor are they tears of joy, rather they are a bit of both, bitter and sweet rolled together as one. Happiness that I am able to let go of a lifelong hatred but grief and regret that I am unable to share this revelation with the object of such an intense loathing. One tear escapes the confines of my eye and tumbles downward, splashing Yuki's cheek. He flinches and, subconsciously, brings up his arm to wipe away the invisible tear. A flurry of activity at the door and I know the Trio of friends has found the room. Shigure and Hatori appear to be desperately holding onto Ayame, trying to calm him down. "He's not going to wake up." I comment coolly. Of course, they can't hear me.
"Oh Gure-san," Ayame sighs, clutching the novelist's kimono sleeve, "he looks like he's only sleeping." They stride over to the bedside and sit down. Ayame puts his hand over Yuki's and begins to talk. He doesn't remember that his younger brother won't be awake until tomorrow. I turn away and look out the window. Tohru will be getting home soon. It's dark and she'll be wondering what happened to Yuki, why didn't he come by to pick her up? She will be worried and rightly so. I sigh. I wouldn't want to be the one to tell her that Yuki almost died this afternoon. Almost as if I had spoken and been heard, Shigure starts up.
"I forgot! Tohru-kun's going to be getting home soon. I didn't leave a note for her. She'll be worried." He runs a hand through thick dark hair and Hatori stands up.
"Don't worry, I'll drive over and bring her here. She'll want to see him, won't she?" And then Hatori leaves. Ayame is still murmuring to Yuki, still rubbing the boy's cold hands in his own.
"Hey. The doc says he'll be okay. He'll wake up tomorrow. Don't worry yourself sick, okay?" Shigure comes up from behind Ayame and again, puts a hand on his shoulder. The snake Jyuunichi leans toward the hand, towards the warm presence behind him.
"I know. I just can't help but remember that he hated me so much and what if something happens and he dies and I was never forgiven? I can't li- mmm." His words are cut short as Shigure does the only thing that can shut Ayame up when he is agitated. He melts into Shigure's warm mouth his body turned almost 180 degrees in the chair. Without breaking the kiss, Shigure moves around the chair so they are facing each other and the kiss deepens. Hands clutch desperately to warm fabric, scrabbling to touch skin and breathing rates increase and moans can be heard in the throats of who I don't care to find out. Ayame's surprisingly plain shirt comes off and he gasps as his hot flesh touches the ice-cold metal of the chair. He looks at Shigure who looks back and they seem to come out of a trance, waking up to harsh reality.
"God you guys, Yuki's lying in that bed right beside you and you make out? You know what would have happened if he had woken up just then?" I snicker, rolling my eyes. Then Hatori comes in with Tohru and she utters a sort of scream and rushes to his side. I watch Hatori and his gaze is flickering between Ayame and Shigure and he takes in Ayame's bare chest and Shigure's messed up hair and I know he can literally smell the hormones rushing in those two men's bodies. His expression remained passive but I can hear him.
"I leave for thirty minutes. I can't even leave them in the same room for thirty damn minutes."
"Haa-san, that's not fair. We didn't- erm- do anything, per se." Shigure holds up his hands, a nervous smile adorning his face.
"Then why is Aya-san's shirt off, may I ask?" Hatori sounds calm but his jaw tightens and I can hear the barely controlled edge creeping up in his voice.
"Well, you see, it got- er- hot. Yes, hot! And I was so uncomfortable that I had to take off my shirt."
"Really? Well, I guess you completely overlooked the thermometer in here? And if it really WAS so hot, as you claim, why didn't Shigure feel the need to take off his kimono, which I know for a fact is a lot thicker than that shirt you were just wearing." Hatori crosses his arms, the edge still in his throat but a look of amusement is evident in his eyes as he observes the two men in front of him. He knows they are lying, he is just playing along to see when they finally decide to confess. And he really can't be so mad at them.
"We-ell, Haa-san, you see, I'm not wearing anything under this," Shigure indicates the kimono, "so it really wouldn't be proper if I had taken it off but whew, is it HOT." He fans himself with his hand.
"I see. And being your doctor and all, I've seen you take off that kimono loads of times and you have always worn something under, if not only boxers." Hatori muses, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "How can I be so sure that you aren't lying to me?"
"All right, all right!" Ayame breaks out into a cold sweat; he knows Hatori knows. "We were-" he casts a glance in Tohru's direction, "we were- doing—something." And then blushes bright red.
"Hmm. I see." Hatori watches the two of them squirming, both refusing to meet his eyes.
"Are you—are you mad with us, Haa-san?" Shigure asks quietly, watching him with his perfected "puppy-dog" look. Hatori chuckles a bit when he sees this.
"That is not going to work on me, Shii-chan, and you know it. But no, I am not mad at you." This is getting too mushy for Hatori has just gotten down on his knees beside the two other men and is whispering affectionate words that I will never care to hear.
"Sohma-kun, I'm so sad that you wanted to hurt yourself. I- I'm sorry that I wasn't able to help you. I hope you will get better and I promise you I'll come every day." Tohru whispers into his ear, playing with his hair. A feeling, one that I'm not used to feeling, comes over me and I want to scream at her to get away from him because only I can do that. But before I do, I catch myself. I don't know exactly what's going on, what's come over me because I sure don't feel very comfortable with it.
"Damn you, Yuki," I spit, "what the hell are you doing to me?" But he doesn't answer and never will. He doesn't know I'm here, asking him for an answer, the only one that I need, that he cannot give.
A/N: I want to thank all my reviewers for well, reviewing!
Polka dot: thanks for mentioning that. I think I might refer to everyone else's reactions next chapter…
