A/N: To reassure you, and to some reviewers who were confused, Little Yuki is not actually the real Yuki Sohma in this fic. Little Yuki is just a hallucination, as is Akitu. Little Yuki is a memory of the younger Yuki that Akito conjures up and so has the mentality and memories of a young Yuki. Which is why he comments in the last chapter that 'Hatori's not a man,' as in he only knows Hatori as an older boy. Little Yuki belongs in the separate time period of Akito's past and only has past memories. Anyone still confused?

If not, then read on…

"Don't do it," Little Yuki whispered, "you'll get in trouble."

"Ha. I'm God, I can do what I please. They daren't try and question me."

"I still think this is a bad idea, Akito-san," Little Yuki said plaintively. "It's not very nice."

We two are crouched behind a rice-paper wall, straining our ears to hear the conversation going on behind it. Well, I'm crouching; Little Yuki is leaning over my shoulder, his silver-grey hair tickling my ears. His eyes are wide and alive in this dark cool hallway.

Something interesting has happened. Shigure has come to the Main House, not to see me but to hold some kind of secret talk with Hari. None of them told me this and I wouldn't have noticed had not my little spy Little Yuki mentioned it in passing. I made him take me to them, and now I'm going to eavesdrop. There are no secrets kept from me.

Little Yuki keeps tugging at me. I ignore him, and peer through a tear in the wall.

"…oddly lately," comes Hari's serene tone. I can see him, long lanky legs folded under him as he and my Dog converse. "It's like…he's steadily becoming more distant."

"How do you mean?" Shigure plucks a teacup from the small table in front and drinks. He's in a suit. Possibly later he was planning on surprising me.

"Sometimes I come in and…he seems to be watching or listening to something. Something that I can't see." Hatori's teacup rattles slightly as he puts it down.

"Sometimes I can hear him talking. I thought he was speaking to himself, but it's not that at all. It's as if…there's another person in the room he's talking to." Hatori waves a hand around. "This has all happened suddenly, Shigure, and I'm not sure what to do."

"Hmm." Shigure frowns, but I can see something working behind his eyes. "You think this is some kind of reaction to his medication?"

"It could be. I hope it is. If it is then I can handle it. I'm his doctor, I can minimise or cease his medication altogether. And it would stop. If it isn't his medication then there is one other… tentative diagnosis I have…"

Hatori swallows hard. I can see the emotions seething inside him; I can see the little tic in his cheek and the tightness around his mouth, his white knuckles.

"The diagnosis…I don't even want to consider it. I don't want to say it. Right now I think it would be too early for that kind of thing, as he's not showing any other…symptoms."

The doctor drains his tea violently and clasps the cup.

"Besides, psychology isn't my area of expertise. It would be wrong of me to - to presume."

Shigure studies Hari's face for a long moment. He looks away for a moment at the opposite wall as if it will provide him with answers, speak to him. Then he coughs gently.

"But Ha-san…you know, don't you, that Akito is a little bit…you know…"

Hatori slowly lifts his head up, distant thunder in his eyes. I clutch the floor. Shigure doesn't notice the change in my Dragon; he's now looking at the ground.

"A little…you know, Ha-san, he's not quite all there."

"I…am aware," Hatori says emotionlessly, haltingly, and as I watch, heart in my mouth, he raises a hand to his damaged eye. For a moment there's this look – and then it's gone, and Hatori is like ice again, giving Shigure a deadly glacial stare.

"Are you suggesting…Akito is doing this to spite me?"

Shigure's mouth drops. He raises his hands. "Of course not. I'm saying…well," he laughs, "I don't know what I'm saying."

"I think you do."

Shigure sees he's on dangerous ground now. He's used to my explosive temper, my outpouring of ferocity and scorn. He's not afraid. What's more frightening is Hatori's anger, his sudden stillness, his frozen white rage.

"I'm just saying, Ha-san…Akito's a bit unstable. Don't you think by this time in his life…his mental state might be beginning to…deteriorate?"

What?

Something trickles down my lip, warm and coppery. My vision has doubled, my face feels blood-hot as these roaring waves crash against my skull. How dare you, Shigure…

Hatori looks angry too and I'm glad, he agrees with me, he hates Shigure for even suggesting such a thing like that. The nerve of that mutt. Yes, Hatori is angry, yes I can see him start to open his mouth to pour stinging bitter words on his head-

And then he stops.

Looks away.

Shakes his head.

Whispers, "I don't know."

I teeter on the brink.

Little Yuki is clutching my shaking shoulder, whispering loud hot booms in my ear but I barely hear him

come away akito please let's not listen anymore come away akito your nose

Shigure nods sympathetically. "It can't be easy, knowing that he's –"

"That he's what, Shigure?" I say icily.

The two men swivel their heads toward me and gape like fish. I've wrenched the rice-paper door aside, torn it aside.

Hatori comes to me with soothing words ready and comforting touches but I push him aside, looking only at my Dog. "No, Shigure, finish what you were saying. It can't be easy knowing that I'm WHAT?"

Shigure looks down at my hand clutching a fistful of jacket. "…You're dripping blood on my jacket, Akito-san. Let Hatori see to your nose."

Impudent shit. I let go of his jacket and grip his chin instead. He winces. "Never mind Shigure. I'll say it for you, I can see the words hanging on your lips. You were going to say It can't be easy, knowing that he's going crazy, right?

"Right?"

Shigure doesn't speak, he just smiles.

I bring his head forward, cradle it in both my hands. "Bad dog," I whisper against his warm temple, "Bad dog. Very bad dog."

That's done it. I watch his face whiten, knowing my words have struck the dead centre of his canine core. He'll mope about this for days, he'll fret. He won't feel happy again until I've forgiven him, and that won't be any time soon. In the next few days he'll whine and beg, and flatter me, and try and prove his usefulness. What a mutt.

I turn away from him and start to walk out, without looking at either of them. Little Yuki comes to my side. I pause for a moment in the doorway, staring straight ahead.

"I'm going outside into the gardens. I don't want either of you to follow me. I don't want either of you to bother me for the rest of the day. No checkups. No medicine. I want to be alone.

"Don't bother coming into my room tonight, Hatori."

I hear him intake sharply behind me as I walk out, knowing that they've been suitably punished.

Outside it is mild and calm; totally inappropriate for the rage I'm feeling right now. My nosebleed has stopped. I breathe through open mouth because of the blood clots in both nostrils. I smell my blood, taste it coating the back of my throat.

I find a warm patch of grass under a tree and sit. Some birds fly down and come near, as always. Little Yuki settles near me, watches me put my face in my hands.

I feel so incredibly old.

"What did they mean?" Little Yuki's voice pipes up, "What did they mean, Akito? By you being at that time in your life? What does dee-tee-yor-ate mean?"

I don't answer. Some things I just can't speak out loud.

"Is it about your curse?"

"I'm afraid," I say.

He scooches closer. "Why?"

"Because I think they're right."

"I don't understand."

I drop my hands and look at him. "I think…I think I am going crazy. I mean…" Laughter bubbles up my throat, "…look at me. I'm sitting here talking to you, and you're not even there."

"Akito?"

I reach out and grab his arm lightly, feeling it. "Yet you're so real. You're warm, you're breathing…you're so…alive.

And I'm not.

"How could you possibly be fake?"

Little Yuki's not understanding any of this – he's too young, too sweet, too pure to understand about diseases of the mind and rotting of the body. He doesn't know deception. He does know pain, because when he looks at me I see deep empathy, something I don't even see in Hatori's eyes. Is that a hallucination as well?

"Tell me," he whispers softly. He takes my hand in his small ones. "Tell me about your curse. Tell me why you're so sad. Because –" he swallows, "- I can feel this pain in my heart, and I think it's your pain, because we're connected in some way, and it's hurting me, Akito."

"All right," I agree. I lie back on the grass and let leaf shadows crawl over me, sunlight dripping down through the leaves to speckle me in gold. My Rat lies back too with his head on my frail chest. I pause, wondering how to begin.

"I am the God of the Zodiac, Yuki. I am the leader of all the Zodiac animals. I have duties – to protect and guide my Juunishi, to keep them close, away from harm. Understand?"

He nods.

"But I live for a purpose, Yuki. To die for you. You see, burdened as you are by a vengeful spirit, the act of transformation – the rearranging of bone and muscle – requires a large amount of energy. Some might call it magic. You can't supply that energy on your own. Such a full-body scale act would kill you. That's why I'm here.

"I give you energy…life. My life-force. So when you do transform, it won't be slow and painful. It's instantaneous, isn't it? Poof, and you're a rat. You draw your own life from mine, all the time, every second of the day, every second you're alive."

"Wow," Little Yuki whispers. "Is that why my heart hurts now? Because of…of…this connection?"

"The Zodiac bond. Yes, that's part of it. But the bond is more then just life-force flowing from me to you. There is a bond that links you to all the other Juunishi, as well as to me. The blood bond. That's another story to tell."

"Tell me?"

"Maybe later." I have to catch my breath.

He turns his head toward me. "And your sickness?"

I sigh. I don't like talking about this. "That's my curse, Yuki. I have thirteen people living off my life energy. They plunder it from me, it weakens me greatly. My immune system is weak. That's why I'm ill – I will always be ill, always be dying, as long as there are living Juunishi, or until I die. That is my burden. My curse."

"And if you died?"

"Then you too would begin to die, until another God is born."

We lie in silence for a while.

"Akito?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." Little Yuki smiles, a sad little curving of the mouth. "Thank you, Akito."

"You're welcome," I mutter. Not one of my Juunishi had ever acknowledged the debt they owe me. Possibly because they're ashamed to say it. Little Yuki's words make me feel odd – or maybe it's this headache, for now only a little dull throb in the back of my skull, but threatening to swell and engulf me later. I itch for Hari's healing touch but hold myself back.

"He wants you," Little Yuki speaks again. I swear that boy can hear my thoughts. "He wants to make sure you're ok. Why don't you just go to him, Akito?"

I roll onto one side, away from his face. "You heard them in there. They think I'm losing it."

"Hatori's just concerned. So is Shigure."

"How would you know that?"

"I don't know. I can just feel it. Like I can feel your emotions, right now."

I roll back and glare at him, but it doesn't work. His grey eyes are clear. "What are you? How can you know all of this? Know things about me? How?"

The little boy simply stares at me. "What are you?" I press.

"Your Rat. That's all."

"Really," I murmur. And it's funny; because at the exact moment I'm staring at him, a strange feeling occurs to me; I feel like I'm just talking to empty space and there's actually nothing there; nothing at all.

---

I must've dropped off, because when I wake I'm lying in someone's lap. I don't even need to guess who because I recognise Hator's respiration and heartbeat, feel the Dragon spirit kindling in his veins. Hari puts down the medical journal he's reading when I stir, and tilts my head up to examine my pupils.

"Don't be angry," he says in a low voice. "Don't be angry, Akito…"

"Why not?" My face and hair feel damp. Light terrycloth brushes my skin. "And why am I wet?"

"I gave you a bath. You slept right through it, I was worried for a while. I had to get that blood off you somehow."

I ignore his quiet desperate tone and crawl off him onto the couch. We're in the TV room, so I grab the remote and turn it on, flicking through the channels to hide my irritation. My skin feels prickly every time I think of him and Shigure talking in that room.

Flick. News. Flick. Soccer game. Flick. Yoghurt commercial.

Hatori flings himself out in desperate appeal. "Shigure wants to apologise. He didn't mean what he said."

"Like fuck he didn't, Hatori." I listen to a perky announcer tell me how eating pro-biotic yoghurt will boost my immune system and live a happy life and I seethe. "Is he still here?"

"No."

"You are," I point out.

"Please, let's not do this, Akito."

"You agreed with him. You think I'm going crazy. You think I'm going bananas." I spit out these phrases with relish. Who says crappy American sitcoms don't teach you anything?

"You think I'm crackers, don't you Hari?"

"No, Akito. I just–"

"Stop talking. I don't want to hear it." I'm mashing the channel-up button so hard it's an audible clickety-click-click-click. Talkshows, cereal brands and sport shoes whirl past my eyes.

"There are things we have to consider-"

"No there aren't. Call it stress. That's what it is. Stress. You said to me yourself stress can make people see things."

"Then tell me what's wrong," the doctor counters. As if he didn't know, oh God.

"You know," I murmur quietly. "You already know, but you don't like saying it, admitting it to yourself. Do you even think about it, as I do, lying awake in the small dead hours of morning, looking above me and seeing that inescapable great weight hanging over my head…"

"What?"

"I'm dying," I hiss, "I'm dying, you coward, you leech, I'm dying, that weight above me is my death, always hanging over, ready to drop at any moment, that's what my stress is, Hatori!"

There are dry hitches in my throat. But I know it's useless; I can't escape my own destiny.

I drop the remote. It clatters to the floor.

"It w-wasn't…supposed to be like this, Hari…it's not ruh-right…I'm n-nineteen and I'm supposed to be happy and healthy and muh-meeting people and going to the movies and seeing pl-places, but just look at me, it's worse then cancer, I probably won't even reach age thirty, I'm not even twenty but G-God I feel so old…"

I lean back when he tries to touch me. "Don't. Leave. I can't stand to be around you right now."

Every breath you breathe should be mine.

As soon as he's gone, I flop back full-length onto the couch and stare at the ceiling. There are cracks in it, just like the dark fault lines splitting my life apart. I have no tears. They're just wasted.

"Yuki?" I whisper helplessly. I itch for his angel face and warm white hands. I reach out for them. "Yuki?"

My voice echoes and flutters around the room. Yuki? Yuki?

(And behind, a faint shifting in the air…)

"Yuki?" I mutter through a suddenly dry and cottony mouth. Yuki? the room whispers back.

The cracks in the ceiling no longer seem like cracks. Now they look like…mouths.

So many mouths.

"Yuki?" I whimper.

Not here, the ceiling speaks in so many breathless whispers, Not here…

What is this? What is it? I clamp my head between both heads.

"Not here," comes Akitu's voice, sweet and cold as the morning, "He's not here, Akito. But I am.

"Aren't you glad?"

As I gape wordlessly, the mouths above gain features, Akitu's face replicated mercilessly across the ceiling etched in plaster and paint.

"Aren't you glad, sick little monster?"

I scream.

---

i don't want to i cant speak of it i i i

---

I can't go in my room now. I know he's in there. Even if he's not, that mirror is in there. I can't make it go away.

There is a smell I smell now. Sometimes of gasoline. Other times, of oranges.

Hatori told me once that smelling strange odors that no one else smells is a symptom of certain brain tumours.

Maybe I'm imagining that too.

Little Yuki still isn't here. I think of him and he won't come.

I feel like I'm just talking to empty space and there's actually nothing there; nothing at all

I'm adamant to sleep in Hatori's room instead of my own. I'm not going into the TV room, ever. Hatori is getting worried, I think. I overhear him consulting some doctor on the phone. The words 'paranoid', 'voices', 'hallucinations' came up more then once.

I see.

Hatori thinks I'm going crazy. For the rest of the day, he seems intent on avoiding me. I can see guilt written all over his face. My Dragon has done something he shouldn't have.

Finally, he confronts me.

"Akito. Tomorrow, a specialist is coming to talk to you. I told him what's been happening. I think it's the only way to help you, I can't do anymore." There are tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this."

"I'm sorry too," I reply calmly, quelling the urge to launch something at his face.

It shouldn't have come to this. This is all his fault. If Akitu hadn't appeared, none of this would've happened.

I wish Little Yuki was here. I really, really do.

A/N: Uh oh. Bad things happenin' now. Even worse to come. Eek! Reviews, please!