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Chapter Four: Didn't Think You'd Forget
September
Friday
New Tokyo General Hospital
New Tokyo, Japan

--

--

Hatori was doing a wonderful job of not falling asleep.

Really.

Actually, he was practically dead on his feet.

The week had come and gone, and for some odd reason, he'd become worse than usual with regards to his personal health. After three or four days of little to no rest and insufficient nutrition, even the near-constant consumption of coffee and other caffeinated products was beginning to have absolutely no effect.

And that was worrying him. After all, what if he read a chart wrong? What if he read a label wrong? What if he distributed the wrong medicine? Lawsuits for medical malpractice were easily resolved these days, and even if he won the suit (which he wouldn't), his reputation would be forever demolished.

Or rather, these possibilities worried that very small portion of his brain which hadn't been put on automatic. Because by now, he was at that stage somewhere before over-exhaustion when everything seemed ridiculously clear and he felt wide-awake even as the heavy chains of tiredness weighed down on his limbs. By the time his break rolled around, though his mind kept going, Hatori's body was begging—positively begging—for a respite from life in general. Food, sleep, anything…

Food, however, was out of the question. He didn't particularly want to go to the cafeteria (even if the reason was only because more than one of the women on duty always gave him one of those looks—one of the ones that he didn't like and that he was sure said that she was going to eat him alive), so that option was discarded. The few food joints within walking distance were also out, as most of them only served greasy American junk that would probably give him a heart attack. That left the vending machines in the corridors, which produced sugary-sweet confections that would keep him going for another hour, but…

Sugar dancing down his veins was not a good idea in the least.

Sleep required a bed, or at least a sofa, but the staff room would be full of happy, gossiping nurses and world-weary doctors who shuffled their imported newspapers and talked about how terrible the war was. He could hardly steal a bed in one of the rooms; the moment he lay down, a nurse would probably bustle into the room and hurriedly explain, "Ah, pardon me, Sohma-sensei, but we need this room…"

So, for the third time that week, Hatori decided to visit Yuki. And, for the second time that week, Yuki was not in his room.

Hatori breathed in. Deeply.

--

Soft laughter floated down the otherwise silent corridor and Hatori drifted towards it.

Because, oddly enough, one of those gleeful voices sounded like it belonged to Yuki.

Though it shouldn't have.

To Hatori's knowledge, Yuki hadn't laughed—well—ever. Actually, taking that into consideration, Hatori wasn't even sure how he knew that it was Yuki's laugh after all—the normalcy of the sound made him wonder if this was just a mistake. If anything, the doctor had always thought, Yuki's laugh would be darker, carrying the weight of—something.

Ah… He was too tired to think of the words.

But upon following that laughter and the hushed conversation that came after it, Hatori found himself in the doorway of room 636. And there was Yuki, situated in his chair beside Honda Tohru's bed, reaching for a square slip of paper from the pile on her bedside table.

Hatori gave a silent sigh.

As he watched—studied—Yuki while he folded his clumsy cranes, Hatori was struck once more by a thought that had occurred to him in passing so many times over the past year.

What was Yuki doing here, stuck in a hospital, when he had his entire future ahead of him? Was fate really so unfair as to deprive a boy—young man, Hatori reminded himself, because Yuki was 16 now—of time that could be spent in so many more productive ways? He could have been in school studying to be an engineer, a company president, a lawyer, a doctor… Yuki, the youngest and cleverest of their particular generation, who had had everything he wanted and who could have been anything he wanted—confined to a hospital for a year that could have been spent in a thousand better ways.

And what of her? Hatori wondered as Honda Tohru let out a soft peal of laughter.

"What's wrong—is something wrong, doctor?" came the half-panicked voice from behind Hatori.

Hatori straightened quickly in surprise, pulling himself together, and turned to face the one who had spoken.

The voice belonged to a tall woman, obviously one of those ex-Yanki. Her hair was a bleached blonde—not her natural color, judging by her darker roots—and her eyes were a mottled light brown color. She dressed like a soldier, in army drabs and combat boots, down to the gun (Gun! How did she smuggle that past security?) at her waist.

"Uo-chan! You're back!" came Tohru's cry from within the room, and the woman immediately brushed past him, darting over to the sick girl to enfold her in a tight hug.

"Damn right I'm back," the woman—Uo-chan?—murmured into the patient's hair. "I came straight from the airstrip. Couldn't wait to come see you again. Saki said she understood."

The girls finally disentangled from each other, smiling widely. Hatori wondered if those were really tears welling up in Honda-san's eyes, or if it was just a trick of the light.

"How are you feeling? How's the hospital? They treating you right here?"

"Yes, of course!"

"And who is this?" Uo smirked suggestively at Yuki, though her eyes were suspicious and on guard.

"Ah! I'm sorry. Sohma-kun, this is Uotani Arisa, one of my best friends. We went to school together in Tokyo. She was my senpai. Uo-chan, this is Sohma Yuki. He's in room next door, 634."

"Hajimemashite. Pleased to meet you," Yuki said quietly, his fingers pausing—somewhat reluctantly, Hatori noted—in the act of making a crease.

"Hajimemashite," Hatsumi repeated, dipping her head, before she turned back to her friend. "So. Boyfriend in the Tokyo Virus Ward, eh? You're growing up so fast, Tohru! It makes me wanna cry…"

"Eeh! Who—Oh!—Sohma-kun?" Tohru's eyes widened and she flushed. Hatori looked on interestedly. Was this why they were spending so much time together, then…? That was a new development.

"No, no! It's not like that! I mean—No offense to you, Sohma-kun—"

"Yuki," the boy interjected, a flash of disappointment sliding on and off his face in a matter of seconds.

Hm. A very interesting new development.

"Right! I keep forgetting! Yuki-kun! Ah—that is—"

Arisa patted her friend on the head, then, and smiled at the flustered girl.

"I get it."

Honda-san smiled back and the room was silent as the two kept grinning at each other.

Yuki broke the silence.

"Hatori, was there something you wanted?"

Hatori's gaze shifted to meet Yuki's icy one and, in turn, two more pairs of eyes shifted to him. Honda-san's eyes widened and brightened.

"Sohma-sensei! I didn't realize that you were there!" she exclaimed. "This is my friend, Uotani Arisa. Uo-chan, this is Sohma Hatori. He's Yuki-kun's cousin."

"Hajimemashite," Arisa said, dipping her head.

"The pleasure is mine," was Hatori's response.

There was another short silence that seemed to last forever in Hatori's somewhat distorted reality, but which only lasted a few heartbeats in everyone else's. Then, abruptly:

"I apologize. I was going to visit Yuki, but when he wasn't in his room, I went searching for him. I suppose I'll just leave, then."

"Oh! No! Ah—That is, don't feel obligated to leave, Sohma-sensei—"

"You can call him Hatori. It's less confusing," Yuki interjected. The doctor nodded his assent.

"Hatori-san! That is, it would be nice if you could stay—Oh! Unless you don't want to! Or if you have to leave, in which case you really shouldn't feel obligated to stay, so—"

"That's all right," Hatori told her quickly, cutting her off in mid-ramble. "Maybe another day."

And then, perhaps out of impulse, he smiled. Honda-san smiled back brightly.

Hatsumi and Yuki merely stared.

--

"Your cousin's pretty handsome when he smiles," Uo-chan noted later. Yuki grimaced. Tohru blinked.

"Hatori doesn't smile."

"What are you talking about, pretty boy? He just did."

Yuki seemed much more than a little irritated at the new nickname, but he continued to be civil towards Tohru's friend.

"I know that. But I meant that I haven't seen him smile since… Well. Since before we came to New Tokyo. Since before the war, actually."

"Really, Yuki-kun? I wonder why. It must be kind of lonely not to be able to smile very often…"

Yuki nodded slowly, creasing a fold as he did so.

"But don't concern yourself with it, Honda-san. Hatori is just… That's just who he is. He won't change. He's just like he was before."

And Yuki continued to fold his crane. Tohru frowned a little. Neither patient noticed the contemplative look that crossed Hatsumi's face.

--

Hatori took off his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to push back the throbbing headache.

"Go home, Shigure," he gritted out, tone blank and civil.

"But Haa-san!" the other man whined as he trailed his older cousin. "It's so boring at home!"

"Shigure. You're single, unemployed, and live in a monstrously large house. Of course you're bored," the doctor snapped.

"But Haa-san!"

"Get a job already. Don't you need more than Akito's allowance to live in New Tokyo? He can't be wiring you that much yen can he…?"

But this time, Shigure didn't whine, only pretended not to hear, instead studying the nameplates on the doors with feigned interest. His cousin sighed and dropped the subject.

"Visit Yuki, then. I'm sure he and Honda-san could cope with your presence for another half hour."

"I have! I think Yuki-kun is mad at me, Haa-san. You really should tell him to calm down or put him on sedatives or something. He tried to hit me!"

Hatori gave another long-suffering sigh, pressing a finger to his throbbing temple and saying something he never thought he would say.

"Then go seduce one of the nurses."

Shigure gasped in mock astonishment.

"Really, Haa-san! Why must you think so ill of me?"

Why indeed.

"I don't seduce anyone! I flirt!"

"Shigure… Go. Just for another half an hour. I have work to do and you get squeamish around blood."

"I do not!" Shigure protested indignantly, obviously offended.

That's right, Hatori's suddenly (was it 'suddenly'?) sluggish mind recalled. Ayame's the one who can't stand blood.

"Fidgety around it, perhaps, but not nearly squeamish—"

"I get the point, Shigure," Hatori muttered, and blinked down at the chart in his hands as that pounding in his head increased twofold. Something was rushing around in his ears and his very brain, but though it was uncomfortable, he couldn't—couldn't pinpoint it… exactly…

"—that time with that girl in high school who—Whoa!" Shigure leaned forward, catching his cousin not-so-neatly even as the force of it knocked the breath out of him. The chart and clipboard clattered to the floor.

Shigure blinked down at the man in his arms for a few seconds before it registered that—Oh, mother fu—his cousin the doctor had fainted.

"You must be kidding me, Haa-san," he groaned.

--

Wreckage and destruction lay before him, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Hatori stared out across the field, horrified by the sight but mesmerized by the steady dripdripdripdripdrip of blood onto the knuckles of his hand. A disembodied scream rang out above the whirring helicopters and the thundering planes. Then—a shot, a silence, and a strangled sob. As if in response, a round of gunfire sounded in the distance, and a helicopter went spiraling down.

The ground shook.

Hatori stilled then started, his good eye catching sight of something… a familiar head of hair, just a few meters away. His throat was so dry—it felt like he hadn't had water in days—but still he called out to her, called her name, his voice cracked but somehow strong, because he knew—he knew—that things had to be right.

So why did something feel wrong—wrong in his head, in his eye, in his heart.

"Ka—!"

--

Light burned an imprint into the inside of Hatori's eyelids and he opened them, only to snap them shut again. A slow, steady pounding beat a pattern into his brain, and the doctor let out a low groan.

"Awake, I see," came Shigure's ever-so-pleasant voice, drifting from somewhere beside Hatori.

Slowly, he reopened his eyes and took in his surroundings.

The source of light was, in fact, the setting sun, and Shigure was, in fact, sitting beside him. That in itself was strangely reassuring.

Oh, yes, strange, indeed.

Considering this was Shigure.

And they were in a car.

In Hatori's car.

"What did I drink?" he wondered aloud. Only something strong would have ever possessed him to give up the keys to the car he'd spent an ungodly amount of yen on. And for him to give up those keys to Shigure of all people, it must have been something of hallucinogen level.

"Oh, a little of this and that," was his cousin's blithe reply. "You aren't a very good doctor, are you, Haa-san?"

"Competent enough," he shot back, somewhat miffed at the other man's speculation. He tried to push back the banging of the hangover headache.

"Not really. Otherwise, you would be at work and not just recovering from a nice, long fainting spell. Impressive, I must say. When you do things, you do them right, ne, Haa-san?"

Oh, that's right.

"You look like you haven't slept in days, and from what I can gather, you haven't had very many good meals lately, have you? Didn't even offer me breakfast last week. Or maybe that's just your inherent lack of hospitality…"

"I've had a lot to deal with, Shigure," Hatori warned the other man. "Yourself, namely. Yuki, Ak—"

"You don't get it."

"What don't I get, Shigure? And—tell me—why are you here in New Tokyo?" Hatori bit out, patience deserting him. "Some new plot of Akito's to bring all of us home again?"

"No—Because I knew that this would happen, even if you thought you'd be perfectly fine. Because I care about what happens to you, Haa-san."

Hatori's already-frayed nerves and temper were shot to nothing in that instant.

"That's bullshit, Shigure. You've never visited me or Yuki here before—you're not nearly that selfless. You could at the very least tell me the truth. What does the head of our family want?"

The other man was silent for a few heartbeats, feeling the sting of Hatori's words. Then he shook his head.

"You really don't remember, do you?"

"Shigu—"

But Shigure leaned forward, a strangely cruel smile crossing his lips even as he brushed away Hatori's bangs and pressed cool fingertips ever-so-lightly under the lens of the glasses, onto his cousin's flinching eyelid, tracing faint scars that crossed the skin.

"I never thought you would forget," he whispered, "about your failure to protect the one you loved, once upon a time."

And Hatori remembered.

--

Notes

By fluorescentpinkfairies

Shigure was kind of weird towards the end, wasn't he? It's more of the manga depiction of him rather than the anime, I guess. Meaning that it's the Shigure who's only out for himself and the one with the unknown motives for hurting/using the people around him. He's the one that I love playing around with.

And, yes. This is pretty much a cliffhanger. Unless, of course, you already know what's going to happen, in which case we're being too predictable… But ooh! There are so many hints in this chapter and just a little bit of irony, too… I do so love plot!

Sorry that it's been over two months since we've updated. It's been kind of hard lately – school has sucked up our lives. Or at least that's been the case with my life. I almost flunked math last marking period, mainly because I'm slower than I should be at solving fractional equations. RIP has to work on Spanish and Japanese and Chem, though, so I guess I'm better off than she is… How about you guys? How's it going for you?

The link to the reviewer responses is on our profile – we'd suggest reading them first before you review (IF you review – and please do!). Thanks for reading!

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4/15/06
Revised and so on and so forth. Thank you!