Author's note: Yay! People actually have interest in my stories! I'm happeh. So…here's the next chapter! Sorry it's kind of short. I guess I'm just running low on creative energy. Maybe I should feng-shui my room or something. I know it's not exactly as…um…"heart-wrenching" as the others, but the way I figure it, if you've got too much of that emotional stuff, it just turns into an overload. So here's chapter four, for your reading enjoyment. As always: thanks for reading!
Shigure stood alone in his house, staring at the phone. For once, the empty house was more of an annoyance than a comfort. Usually, he was happy just to regain the peace and solidarity having his own house brought. The long years spent in the main house had acclimatised him to being alone with only his thoughts and Akito for company. He'd bought a house "outside" to get even further from the Sohmas, and now he had three teenagers milling around all the time.
But the suffocating stillness wasn't the only thing that disturbed him. His conscience, too, had suddenly decided to kick in. –I've gone my whole life keeping that thing in check, and it picks now to wake up,–he grumbled silently. It was like having someone constantly poking him in the shoulder and glaring, always reminding him of his role in this madness. Honestly, it was reminiscent of having Hatori behind him all the time.
He lied. When he told the kids that he didn't know where Tohru was, he'd been forced to tell a straight-out lie. He knew exactly where she was, and he knew exactly why she was there. And while he didn't know the whole of Akito's plan–whether she trusted him or not, she never told anyone the entirety of what went on behind those purple eyes–he knew enough for his conscience to be decidedly annoyed.
So he'd called Hatori. In a possibly vain attempt to calm his nerves, he'd put in a request to the Sohma doctor that he make sure Tohru was, at least, still alive. He was slightly proud of himself for it, too. He'd had to deal with Hatori's "you shouldn't manipulate people" lecture for his trouble. Though, of course, his conscience even had issues with that. According to that damned ever-holy voice in the back of his mind, he shouldn't pride himself on doing something he should've done in the first place.
He was so lost in his own mind that the ringing of the phone took a minute to reach him. Finally, he blinked and picked it up.
"Haa-san! I knew you'd call back. You're so trustworthy," he sang.
"Yes. Per your instructions, I checked on Honda-kun. She is, in fact, alive. Possibly unconscious, and beaten fairly badly, but alive all the same. There. Are you satisfied?" the voice on the other end snapped.
"Ooo! Haa-san, you sound so tense!" Shigure teased.
"Unlike you, Shigure, I'm having a serious moral dilemma over this. It's one thing for Akito to do such things to Kyo or Yuki, but to involve Honda-kun? This may be going too far. But who am I to go against Akito's wishes?" Hatori said, his tone going to a level of coldness that was haunting, even for him.
–If only you knew,–Shigure thought wryly. Aloud, he said, "It's not as if I'm enjoying this. But what must be done, must be done. Tohru knew what she was getting into. She could've left months ago, but she's still around."
"She stays for them! You know damn well she wouldn't have stayed more than necessary if it weren't for those two," Hatori retorted, anger colouring his voice.
"Well…yes," Shigure admitted. "But if she survives this, just think about how much stronger their relationships will be!" he added cheerfully.
Hatori didn't reply. There was a click, and Shigure sighed. "I really didn't mean to make you angry, too, Haa-san," he said to a dead line. He hung up the phone, his conscience slightly quieter.
Suddenly, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. For a moment, he considered finishing his manuscript, but then remembered it was due the next day. He wasn't hungry, he wasn't tired…he was completely devoid of anything except twinges of guilt every now and then. It was enormously frustrating, this lack of need or want. Finally, mostly for something to do than anything else, he sat down in front of the television. He flipped to some stupid reality show, figuring he needed something so totally asinine as people willing to make fools of themselves in public to take his mind off the situation at hand.
It was so mind-numbing, in fact, that he eventually drifted off to sleep. His dreams were filled with eyes that glared at him and seemed to probe directly into his soul, exposing his darkest feelings. Needless to say, it was not exactly the most restful sleep ever.