Sorry for taking so long. I had tests and writer's block. As a matter of fact, I intended to make this chapter longer to make it up to you, but sigh, writer's block again. I split the chapter because of one detail I can't make up my mind about. I have two scenarios and I can't decide which one to use . . . oh well, review replies.

N. James The Diehard DishRag; Did you . . . read my profile or something, because you put down my uber-favourite pairings in your review! girlish squeal They're great! I agree, a triangle would be fun, but that's not what I'm going for. Thank you for your review!

cm1000; Sorry, I'm going to have to ignore the questions. Just for now, though. They will be answered. Oh dear, here goes. Ignores But keep speculating, please, I really love that! Thank you.

demon thing; Thank you for your review, and happy hunting for other enjoyable FB fics.

crystalfeathers; Thank you for always reviewing my story, it's really nice to know you like it.

Azure Teriques; Yay, thank you!

Nya, I recently learned the word "asportation", and I wanted an excuse to use it. Realises . . . Um, no, I didn't make up this fanfiction as an elaborate premise to use new vocabulary. --;; Really, it just a coincidence that the plot is so conveniently centered around asportation . . . . . . .

Asportation – the physical movement of objects or people. The definition of "kidnapping" demands an element of asportation of the person to be present, thereby distinguishing the crime from other forms of unlawful detention.

Chapter 6. Animus Fratri, Amici, Hostis

Tohru had easily gone back to sleep, exhaustion overcoming any remaining curiosity or apprehension, and by the time she woke again, the weak, winter sun was streaming through the gaps in the sliding panelling over her window. Understandably, she was worn out, and she drifted in and out of consciousness as if under and over the surface of water. She rested easily, and her recuperating form was lax upon the bed.

The first time she became fully aware of her surroundings, she briefly wondered where in the world she was, with that feeling so common the first few nights one wakes up after moving house. The memory at once returned, and a small undercurrent of nervousness nestled just outside her thoughts. Tohru raised herself up into a sitting position and wrapped her thin arms around her knees. I wonder what I should do, Okaa-san? Should I wait here? Or go downstairs? A fear of displeasing her asportators prickled at her slightly, but she did her best to dismiss it. They promised. It's rude of me to fear them when they're going to the trouble of making me feel at ease, when they really don't have to. For kidnappers, they really did their best to keep me from being afraid.

Tohru's thought's turned to wondering about these two mysterious men. They're criminals, I suppose, and Otoji-san speaks a lot about those but they just seem so kind. They don't seem like any of the people Otoji-san ever mentioned. They haven't at all harmed me, not in the least.

Tohru remembered though, how familiar Shigure-san behaved towards her. He kissed me, she reminded herself. She wondered if she should be worried. Otoji-san had warned her before about paedophiles and so forth, but, thinking about it, all of Shigure-san's motions seemed . . . . . friendly, rather than insistent. Somehow, whatever it was about him or Hatori that was frightening her, she was sure that that wasn't it. Surely, if either of them wanted to do something like that, they would have already? Maybe? Anytime they wanted to they could, after all – she gasped, and shudders ran through her again. She suddenly felt very small, very exposed.

I have stop thinking like this. Didn't Okaa-san tell me not to be too mistrusting? I'm being very rude to Shigure-san and Hatori-sensei, and I'll only make more trouble for them if I keep acting like this. Tohru looked at her surroundings. I've been well taken care of and this is how I repay them. Certainly, I'm still nervous, but I have no idea why. There's no reason to be. I just need to stay positive and trust that everything will work out fine.

. . . . . . . That's not the whole truth of it though, is it? A nasty voice seemed to whisper in her mind. Tohru hugged herself reflexively. "It's alright," she whispered. "It's alright." The sun seemed a little less bright, somehow, and the world more big and threatening. "It's alright. It's alright. It's alright," she whispered again and again, like a mantra.

Picking a very inopportune time, her empty stomach sent a pang of hunger through her. Tohru remembered that she hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday. She had been too busy at work to remember to have lunch, and yesterday's cicumstances had taken the opportunity to dine from her. Deciding that now was as good a time as any, she pulled herself out of bed and picked some clothes out of the wardrobe. A lock on the door allayed her fear some more, and when she had changed into a blue skirt and a yellow long-sleeved top that was somewhat too big for her, she quietly left to go downstairs.

Poor Tohru was mired with indecision when she reached the top of the stairs, however. Maybe I should just wait in the room. What if they're busy and I interrupt? Ooh, I'm not sure how to behave in this situation.

"Honda-kun."

She spun around to see Hatori coming down the landing towards her. His hair and clothes were, amazingly, impeccably tidy, as if he'd spent the night sleeping while standing up. "Oh, ano, good morning, Hatori-sensei. You surprised me."

"It runs in the family, I guess." That might be true, thought Tohru.

"Hatori-s . . . oh, ano . . ." Tohru's words stumbled and disappeared.

Hatori looked down at her with that direct, intimidating stare of his. "Is something the matter, Honda-kun?"

"Oh n-no, really, thank you, I just, that is," her eyes kept returning to that powerful gaze and darting away. Under such a gaze what she wanted to say sounded frivolous and stupid.

"Yes?"

Growing more nervous, she decided to take a plunge. "I-is it alright, if it's alright with you, may I call you, Hatori . . . -san? If I may." Her head fell with her diminishing voice. Please don't be angry.

"I'd be very happy." Not daring to believe her luck, Tohru looked up and saw a small smile on Hatori's normally stoic features. Elation rose in her and she beamed, then bowed, "Thank you, thank you so much, Hatori-san."

"Not at all." Secretly, he was glad to see her smile again. It was the happiest he'd seen her so far. But he was otherwise occupied as well. He frowned, and the girl almost dropped her eyes again. "Are you feeling alright, Honda-kun? You look pale."

Tohru waved her arms in a small frenzy. "Oh no, I'm feeling fine. I'm just a little hungry that's – oh. Th-that's not to say that . . . . . ." She faded again, the exposed feeling returning in part as long as Hatori stared at her, but he didn't give much thought to this for two reasons. First, he was too used to the effect he had on most people, and second, he was busy assessing her appearance. She did look pale – too pale – and even after her rest her posture was wan, and she looked as if she'd fall over if he blew hard enough.

The girl was growing more and more uncomfortable, but she didn't dare stirr or break the silence. It was as if she had been smothered. "What did you eat yesterday, Honda-kun?"

First Tohru was confused by the odd question. Then she suddenly felt she had something to hide. "A-ano, um, I don't really understand."

"Did you eat lunch?" Some undertone in Hatori's voice told Tohru not to lie.

"I forgot," she mumbled.

He nodded once. "And you didn't have dinner yesterday either." The girl forgot to have lunch? Anything can be taken to an unhealthy degree, the doctor supposed. Even altruism. "Let's go downstairs and get breakfast." Hatori started down the stairs, but stopped several steps down and turned back. "Just wondering, but why did you want to call me Hatori-san?"

Tohru suddenly became very interested by her feet. "Somehow it . . . . felt better than sensei. Hatori-san feels better than Hatori-sensei, for some reason." Hatori nodded again and turned back down the stairs. "Where is Shigure-san?"

Hatori stopped in front of the living room door, heaved a sigh, and slid it open by way of an answer. Tohru peered inside and sure enough, there was Shigure, sitting back on the couch, asleep. The Rise and Fall was still on the coffee table in front of him. Hatori had no need to survey the scene, but Tohru put 2 and 2 together and ended up with 5. "Oh no! Hatori-san!" she exclaimed as quietly as it is possible to "exclaim" something, for fear of waking him. "Was I sleeping in Shigure-san's bed?!"

Oh, heaven forbid. "No Honda-kun. It's fine. Shigure just fell asleep down here." He began leading her to the kitchen. "He's spent more nights of his life asleep on open books than in a bed. He's been that way since we were children."

"Oh. That sounds sweet." Hatori glanced at her. "I mean, it's rare, you know? For children to be that enthusiastic about books. I know I wasn't!"

"Well I wouldn't try it if I were you. There's a reason Shigure has glasses, you know? Night after night of his childhood reading under his covers with a torch."

"But shouldn't we wake him?"

Inwardly moved by her compassion for a person she knew only as her kidnapper, Hatori apathetically leaned against the counter and equally apathetically said, "He'll have a pretty bad crick in his neck if he stays that way."

Tohru gasped. "I'll go wake him now!"

The doctor looked shocked at this. "But he'll have a pretty bad crick in his neck if he stays that way."

"Ode?"

"Honda-kun, I'll get breakfast ready. Will miso and rice be alright?"

It took a short while for Tohru to catch up with the conversation, but once she did, she was frenzied. "Ehhh??!! Ha-Hatori-san is going to cook?" Then, she protested meekly and quietly, as if ashamed by her outburst, "I can't let Hatori-san do all that. I have to help."

"There's no need." Hatori began, but Tohru was implacable.

"N-no, please, I-I couldn't. I've already been so much trouble, and I disturbed Shigure-san last night and h-he, that is – "

"Honda-kun, You have no obligation to us." It came out harsher than Hatori intended. He stopped when he realised the effect he was having.

Her head was bowed, making her eyes invisible. "Please. I . . . don't want to trouble you more than I already have. I'm already being a terrible burden. Please let me make it up to you, just a little bit. I . . please let me help." She kept her eyes downcast, as if weighed down by shame.

"You're never a burden . . . . Honda-kun."

Tohru's head rose ever so slightly, but she didn't look directly at Hatori. "Ha-Hatori-san shouldn't say such things, even though it's very kind."

"It's not kindness. It's the truth." Tohru face looked disbelieving and moved. "If you want to help, you can, but don't feel you have to."

"Ano, I want to, Hatori-san, please."

"Alright, then."

Tohru and Hatori began to make the breakfast together. Tohru was quiet, and followed all Hatori's instruction industriously (though he didn't give her many, as he knew most were redundant). Hatori kept a watchful eye on her behaviour, as Shigure's claim that she was acting differently stayed with him. Granted, she was indeed behaving very meekly, and seemed (more so) in fear of reproach but the doctor wondered how much of this should be put down to the fact that, she was indeed, in a very stressful and frightening situation. Pronounced fear, Hatori knew, could have many varying effects on people's behaviour. For now, perhaps Tohru was still being very cautious. It's still seems rather extreme. She's usually so trusting, naïve even.

Hatori sighed unobtrusively as he stirred the soup. It wasn't pleasant to have a person like Tohru fear him. Especially considering how completely harmless and gentle she was. Hatori remembered the first time she had come to the Main House to see him. She had been nervous, of course, but Hatori was used to people being nervous around him. When he'd realised the extent to which the thought of him erasing her memories had frightened her though, he had been . . . . he wasn't sure if "ashamed" was the right word. Awed? Moved? He was moved by the compassion she'd shown him, and everyone, by wanting to keep those memories, and the tears she cried for him. And for his "kindness", as she believed it.

"Hatori-san?" He turned to see her face cautiously but concernedly scanning his. "Are you ok?" There it was again. She must have noticed him cease his activity over the soup. Of course, those innocent eyes spilled concern for his sake. And of all things, this amazing creature was holding a box of rice. He smiled at her, and though she didn't really understand, she smiled, too, and loaded the rice cooker. He was happy. She was looking happier and more relaxed than he'd seen her so far, a small smile and concentrated frown intermittently appearing on her countenance.

As she was working, Tohru toyed with the idea of starting a conversation with Hatori-san. She didn't really know much about him yet. She was still worried about disturbing him or seeming frivolous, but did her best to remind herself of how kind Hatori had been and plucked up her courage. "Ano, Hatori-san?" He glanced in her direction. "Have you and Shigure-san always been good friends?"

"Good friends?" He meditated for a few moments. "Hmm, I don't really know. Sometimes I'm not sure what we are to each other."

"What do you mean?"

Hatori's eyes stayed on the soup. "When we were kids, sure, Shigure and I were very close. We're the same age after all. But there were . . . . other circumstances we shared. And Ayame, of course."

Tohru politely didn't inquire about these circumstances, but she was curious about this other person. "Ayame-san? Who is she?"

"He's another friend of ours." He didn't pause to accept an apology for her mistake. "Well, he's stayed the same, for the most part, since we were children. He's foolish and doesn't think things through most of the time, but it's not because he's a bad person himself. Not at all. He just has a genuinely hard time understanding what others are thinking. Ayame himself is . . . . a good person."

"I'm sure he must be, Hatori-san. Just like you and Shigure-san."

Hatori sighed. "Shigure is . . . . complicated. Over time, he's changed. Slowly. Well, changed mightn't even be the right word. Shigure has a lot of different sides to him, and he shows each in an appropriate and advantageous situation. And there are . . ." he paused. "There are many which I don't like at all. Some I'd go so far as to say I hate."

Tohru was quelled by this. "But, surely there are sides you like, too?"

"Hah. Yes. The problem is that I can never figure out which one is the real one."

She paused again. "They . . . . are all real. The good ones and the bad ones. Everyone has good sides and bad sides, I'm sure. And you can't get rid of either type. That's why you can't get rid of bad things. But you can't get rid of good things either. All that's important is that you try to bring out the good sides as much as possible. So . . so just the fact that they're there in Shigure is proof that there's a good person there."

Hatori thought. Damn Shigure. This was the trust he had abused. Even if Hatori spoke semi-openly about Shigure's unworthier characteristics, Tohru kept giving him to benefit of the doubt. He turned off the heat, as the soup was ready, with a brisk, annoyed movement. "Hatori-san? Have I made you angry? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so audacious."

Alarmed, he turned to reassure her, but unexpectedly found her quite close to him. Tohru was surprised, and jumped back, dropping the bowls she had been carrying. They fell to the floor and shattered. Hatori's eyes rested on the pile of fragments, until he raised his head to Tohru. "Honda-kun, I apologise. Are you – Honda-kun?"

Tohru's eyes were fixed on the mess on the floor, her relieved hands were quivering by her sides, and she had turned even paler. "Honda-kun?" She began retreating backwards, never taking her eyes of the white mass of shards. Perplexed, Hatori started towards her. "Honda-kun, are you alright?"

She bumped against the wall, her eyes unmoving, taking in deep breaths which were rattled by her fear-filled body. She opened her mouth and in a rasping whisper, said "I'm sorry, Hatori-san. I'll clean it up, I will. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please don't . . ." She closed her eyes and shook her head, whispering, "No, I won't say that, I shouldn't say that."

Hatori's pupils dilated and expanded again in an instant. Those words.

"Hatori-san." Her eyes shone with tears and she backed away. "Hatori-san, please don't. Please don't, I – " she cut herself off with a gasp. She hung her head. "No, I won't say that. I can't, shouldn't! Hatori-san I – I'm sorry!"

Hatori's stern face softened. "They're just bowls, Honda-kun. I don't mind. I'm not angry with you." She looked as if she was expecting a thrashing. And the worst thing was that she was in such a position, her head bowed, her arms down at her sides, that she appeared totally submissive to him, should he move to harm her. She wouldn't resist. I have hurt you already though, haven't I? So can I expect anything else? Do I deserve any other treatment?

He didn't know what to do, though. He couldn't approach her without making her retreat even further into herself. He scanned his memory for the rudimentary psychology he had been given in conjunction with his studies. Patients who are ill at ease. "Hah hah! Maybe if you weren't so scary they wouldn't be ill at ease, Haa-san!" That was probably true, too, even though Shigure hadn't meant harm by it. Hatori loked up, to see that Tohru hadn't moved. He turned and bent down to pull a dustpan and brush from the cupboard and slowly swept up the broken bowls. It wasn't long before Tohru noticed, and she was horrified. She hastily "No, Hatori-san! Don't please. It isn't necessary! Please let me do it."

"Because it was your fault?" Hatori didn't take his eyes off his sweeping job.

"Y-yes."

"Wrong answer. It wasn't your fault. It was just an accident." He stood and emptied the dustpan into the bin.When he turned back, Tohru was looking off to one side, perplexed and confused. Her eyes were glazed with shining tears, though they had yet to fall.

"Oooh, man, I've got a crick in my neck." Shigure ungracefully appeared at the door, his messy hair messier than usual, rubbing his eyes and neck.

"A pretty bad one, would you say?" prompted Hatori.

"Yeah, that's it, I've a pretty bad crick in my neck."

Hatori sighed. "Shigure, when are you going to – "

"It was worth it." Shigure waved away Hatori's reprimand and noticed Tohru (who had been standing still, mired in confusion, during this entire exchange) for the first time. "Ah, Tohru-kun, I didn't expect you to be up already." He ruffled her hair. "Ohayo, koi." Tohru blushed.

Hatori snorted in contempt. "Now is really not the time."

"That wasn't the intention, Haa-san." Tohru's eyes darted from one to the other, not sure now if they were angry with each other or just being familiar. Shigure's head was tilted, and he held an indifferent expression. Hatori simply looked stern as always. "Anyway, I heard something break. Everything ok?"

"Ah! Good morning, Shigure-san." (Tohru remembered that she hadn't greeted him yet) "Yes, it's alright, Hatori-san was kind enough to clear away the bowls. Oh! But were you woken?! I'm sorry, it was really my fault, you see I –"

"Hah! You have no idea how much I missed that. Stolen moments of respite forever doomed to be shattered by crashes and dosas and so forth. Hah hah!"

"Umm . . . ."

Tohru couldn't follow him at all, and before she really knew what was going on, she was ushered to the table and she, Hatori, and Shigure sat down for breakfast. Tohru observed the differences between the two with interest. They were complete opposites in so many ways. Shigure flopped contentedly down, but Hatori sat with more restraint. Shigure was so animated most of the time, and Hatori was reticent and reserved. They're almost like an older and younger brother, Okaa-san.

"Some I'd go so far as to say I hate." The words flooded her mind again. What did he mean? Another difference between Hatoriand Shigure occurred to her. Hatori was a constant, and consistent – how he was was how he always was, but Shigure kept on shifting and . . . changing sides. She looked up from her breakfast to Shigure. He stopped eating and smiled at her. "Yes?"

"Ah-ah, oh nothing – "

"Oh!" Shigure slapped his forehead lightly. "That's right, we need to call your family after breakfast."

Tohru gasped. "Ojii-san! Yes, I have to tell them they don't need to worry!"

"Sure."

After breakfast, Tohru offered to wash up, and the two men, unable to convince her not to, were forced to concede and leave her in the kitchen. "Gives us a chance to talk, anyway," said Shigure, once they were back in the living room and a closed door was between them and Tohru. "Well, we discussed this already. You have to make the call or they'll recognise my voice. Are you . . . . ok with that?" He scanned Hatori's one visible eye, but his cousin merely shrugged. "Maa, I'd better put away my things."

Shigure grabbed the other bag Tohru had seen the previous night and left. "And comb your hair!" Hatori added. He sighed. What am I going to do? Hatori felt for a cigarette and lighter in his pocket, lit one, and took a long drag. Glancing once at the door concealing Tohru, with a heavy step, he followed Shigure up the stairs.

The other man was in his room, bent over his bag, pulling different items out. He didn't cease or make any reaction to Hatori's presence, other than to casually ask, "Yes?"

"You heard those bowls break." Shigure paused, but didn't turn around, patiently awaiting elaboration. "When that happened, Honda-kun became very frightened. She paled, and trembled and backed away. Frightened doesn't even cover it. She was terrified. And," he paused, measuring the effect of his next words. "She said to me, exactly what she said that night. The night I surpressed her memories. Almost word for word."

Shigure kept working. "That was how she was behaving in the side-street, am I correct, Shigure?"

"Yes. So, is there any particular reason you're telling me this?" He was still working, not facing Hatori at all.

"I need to warn you. Be careful. I had no idea her subconscious memories of us could produce so great an effect, even coupled with existing fear of us as the men who kidnapped her, and if it can, then . . ." Hatori stopped, and sighed. "I don't want her to suffer like that again."

Shigure was finished. He stood, still facing away. The smirk on his face was audible, if not visible. "So, you can't even stand a reflection, a tangible image of a painful memory. Why? Why did you do those things in the first place if you weren't sure you could bear the results. If you couldn't look straight at them and shrug them off. Aren't you the cold one, after all?" Hatori said nothing, could say nothing. It was if he was frozen by the sheer iciness of Shigure's voice and words. "Haven't you made yourself such to be able to execute your art? Why did you do that to her if you weren't able to bear that tear-streaked face, or those frightened eyes? If they would only haunt you?" Silence. "I know you. I know what's going on in your mind. And you're a fool. It's been so many years and you still can't handle it. These are your sins and this is your burden, but you just can't get used to it."

Hatori steeled. "I was presented with no other choice."

"Heh. Do you know who you remind me of?" In all this time, Shigure never turned. The Dragon's eyes widened, no response sufficient towards this harsh, cold demeanor in front of him. Shigure heard him leave, and finished his work, saying to himself with mild surprise,

"You left? Haa-san, I wasn't talking to you."

Notes:

Ayame is a girl's name. It means "Rainbow Woman"

The story of how Shigure got his glasses is . . . . my story of how I got mine (heredity was a factor too, but I definitely didn't help myself!). I love books!