I forgot to add page breaks the first time around, so I quickly hopped online to touch this chapter up. I'mleaving again now, I promise!

Chapter 8: Inter Dentes Lupi

"That was foolish, Shigure," Hatori began discreetly scolding his cousin once Tohru was out of earshot, crouched down between the roots of a large tree on the path ahead, admiring some flowers. Shigure didn't pretend not to know what he was talking about. But, true to form, he shrugged, dismissing the gravity of the lightly teasing question he'd asked Tohru about the lake.

"Oh, you worry too much," he said casually.

"What have I told you?" Hatori hissed angrily. "What is the matter with you?" Shigure ignored him and continued down the path. This tactic wasn't working for Hatori, so he tried another. "Do you want her memories to return?" has asked simply, frankly, quietly. "Is that part of your plan?"

Shigure stopped where he stood, his back turned to his cousin. "My plan," he answered equally simply, frankly and quietly, "is to protect her."

It was a straight answer, Hatori could give him that, albeit one he couldn't understand given Shigure's contradictory actions – past and present. So he pressed ahead with this strategy, and asked a question which had been bothering him ever since Shigure had first come to him asking for help with this (ridiculous, awful, illegal et cetera) scheme. "And Yuki? Kyo?"

"There's nothing I can do for them," he replied without hesitation. "There's nothing that can be done for any of us. No matter what, we're always trapped. Always. Yuki and Kyo, you. Even Kagura, Kureno, Ritsu, and me." At that, Shigure turned heel and strode deliberately down the path. Hatori watched him approach Tohru on the path ahead and kneel next to her by the tree. He engaged in a light-hearted conversation of some sort with her (he was out of Hatori's earshot), as she gestured shyly towards the tiny flowers that had managed to survive the frost thus far, nestled in the lee of the tree's roots. Hatori regarded the way his cousin had slipped easily into the role of benevolent caretaker, his solemn disposition discarded. So what is trapping you, Shigure? What is chaining you in place of the curse? Is it truly as you say?

Hatori scanned Tohru's innocent, young face with his one useful eye. It was wonderful to be around her again, in the presence of her refreshing tender-heartedness and purity. She was such a sweet girl. She had suffered so much, undeservedly. Shigure, is it guilt? Is the guilt over what you did to her that's chaining you? Is that what is forcing your hand?

Hatori wanted to believe it was so, as hard as that was. He wanted to believe that his cousin had finally been moved, the ice in his heart melted, the stone in his heart breached. He wanted to believe his cousin – his friend – had had his heart broken by the sight of that girl bruised, bleeding, crying and afraid . . . . . because if it hadn't, if Shigure had honestly been unfazed, then he was a monster.

Hatori wanted to believe that something could possible have shifted in Shigure's nature. Hatori wanted Shigure to be able to go back to the way he'd been before the world twisted him . . . or before he twisted himself for his own ends, using himself as he used others. One or the other. Hatori didn't want to believe his cousin was a monster.

Do not forget, he warned himself. Do not forget what he did to her. Hatori sighed. He may hope that Shigure was telling the truth, but his priority was Tohru. Nothing mattered more now than making sure she wasn't hurt again. He owed her that much.

So he must be on guard against Shigure.

"I'm afraid Tohru-chan is very ill right now and can't come to the phone. However I appreciate your concern."

"That bad, huh? Seriously!?" Arisa Uotani almost screamed down the phone. She was leaning against a tree in the school yard. She and Saki Hanajima had gotten off school about two hours beforehand, but Arisa had been stuck in detention with Fujita-sensei after school today (plus every day this week). She didn't remember why. She had been groping for an excuse to go outside so she could call the Honda household and check up on Tohru for the entire duration, but Fujita-sensei had been adamant. That Fujita guy has issues . . . . .

Upon being relieved from her temporary prison, Arisa had found Saki waiting for her on a bench, still as a statue.

"Hey, Hana, watcha doing here?"

A silence followed. "I was awaiting your arrival so that when you called Tohru-chan, I would have the full details."

"And you didn't call her on your own phone because . . ?"

"The fates decided it would be in my best fortune to forgo mobile communications for today."

"Y'know, Hana, you can just say you forgot it like normal people."

And so, here they both were, Saki unmoved from her position on the bench, and Arisa half-yelling down the phone at Tohru's aunt. It was now about 5:30, and Arisa was getting hungry (and, ergo, moody), and ever more concerned about Tohru. "So what the heck's up with Tohru!?" She was sure her casual speech was annoying Tohru's aunt (tight woman), but she didn't care. She already knew that the woman had no patience for "delinquents" such as herself. The way Arisa saw it, she'd done her best to build a new life, and she couldn't change that some people wouldn't accept that, so she didn't worry about those people.

"That is unimportant," came the testy reply. "I will tell Tohru you called, Arisa-chan, but I really do have to let you go now. I'm quite busy."

Yeah, I bet you're busy . . . . . picking up the slack of the chores Tohru usually does, thought Arisa bitterly. "Right. Later." She pressed the hang-up button. "What a cow. So anyway Hana, apparently Tohru's too sick to come to the phone. You buy it?"

Nothing of her stoic friend moved but her lips when she spoke. "Arisa. Something is not right. Tohru's aunt's waves are rippled with the signs of deception".

"So she's lying?," Arisa translated.

"Or not telling the whole of the truth. Either way, I believe this exchange merits some investigation."

"Yeah, let's get over there, stat! Been wanting to anyway. We haven't been over there since Tohru started living with her family again, and she's been acting weird ever since. And now all of a sudden, she's so ill she can't even get to the phone? The cordless phone? Something's definitely up."

The duo began the half-hour walk to the Honda household, the looming burden of unfinished homework (due for the next day, as homework often is in inconvenient circumstances) forgotten in place of their investigation. By the time they'd arrived on Tohru's street, Saki could confirm that her familiar waves were nowhere in the vicinity. Her normally placid face crumpled in irritated confusion.

"Something the matter, Hana?"

"I sense . . . . . it's difficult to describe," she managed. "I've never felt anything like it. It's . . . . confused would probably be an accurate description." She paused. "I can't really describe it, but the only analogy that comes to mind is a television tuned in between two frequencies, so that on the screen there are fragments of the picture on the channel above and the channel below, mixed with "white noise". Chaotic. The two channels are fighting for dominance".

Taking the shorter girl's power in stride, as always, Arisa looked up and down the darkened, deserted street. "Well, there's no-one here now. 'Specially not that could be causing such a hullabaloo."

Saki followed her friend's gaze, scrutinising the blackness broken at intervals by the bright pools of the street lights. "That's very strange. I must be picking up the footprints of this struggle, so to speak. But that's never happened before." She looked worried, which in turn worried Arisa. She had never seen Saki being so open with her emotions.

"Look, Hana, let's concentrate on Tohru right now, okay? Let's not think about this TV of yours until we've figures out where she is."

Saki still seemed distracted when she murmured her assent. "Still," she said, "Tohru-kun does appear to collide with unusual waves rather frequently." She industrially shook all thoughts of the footprint from her mind – if only for the moment; she would have to investigate, she felt – and turned her attention back to the Honda house. Neither of the household's two cars were in the driveway. "There are only two people inside the house as I speak. One of them is Tohru-kun's grandfather. The other is her cousin, Chinatsu."

Arisa's face fell. "Aw man, not her? Fine. At least she'll be easy to wrangle some answers out of." She cracked her knuckles. Not that she'd actually do any bodily harm to Chinatsu, but she didn't like that girl one bit. Tohru would never admit it, but Arisa had a strong feeling she wasn't as civil to Tohru as she deserved. The girls crossed to the front door in unison, and Arisa rang the doorbell impatiently. No-one answered. "Ugh. We know you're in there," she drawled, producing several more staccato rings in succession. After what seemed like an age, she heard someone approach the other side of the door and fumble with the locks. Please not Chinatsu. Please not Chinatsu. Please not – crud.

Chinatsu eyed the intimidating girls warily through a vigilantly small gap between the door and the frame. "Yes?" she asked rudely.

"Hey 'Natsu. We're looking for Tohru. Where is she?"

"You're that Yankee girl, right," accused Chinatsu snobbily. "Well, Tohru's not here. Goodbye." And she moved to close the door. Arisa quickly stuck her foot in, not bothered at all by the pain of the door smashing against her.

"We called earlier and were told she was too sick to get to the phone." Chinatsu glared, defeated. "'Fess up, where's Tohru?" The unpleasant girl lowered her head, allowing her hair to shield her face. This surprised Arisa, who had been prepared for more snubs and heated dismissals. Something clicked then.

"Hey," she said, in a gentle tone which belied her origins. "You been crying?"

Chinatsu angrily wiped her eyes and hissed "No." Her tone suited someone half her age. She wiped her eyes again and again, frantically racing against the tears which were gathering as she spoke with her breaking voice. "N-no." She began crying, powerless to do anything but keep her cries quiet, her stifled sobs interspersed with more denials.

Arisa was shocked. She awkwardly patted the girl's shoulder, in a weak attempt at consoling her, but her mind was racing, yet fixated on Tohru. What could be so terrible that it would reduce her cousin, who was none-too-fond of her, to tears?

Saki hadn't spoken at all during this encounter, but she now stepped forward. "I think we should come in." It wasn't a request.

Chinatsu wiped her eyes again. "I-I . . . I'm not really supposed – "

"Your mother and brother will not be back for some time." Her tone invited no argument.

And so, Chinatsu, Arisa and Saki all ended up sitting in the Honda's living room, Arisa sitting on one couch next to the former, who was shame-facedly clutching a handkerchief, and Saki sitting across from them both. From her fragmented explanations, the guests learned that Tohru's grandfather was upstairs napping. "Chinatsu," began Saki. "Where is Tohru? What has happened to her?"

She blew her nose. "I . . I'm not supposed to – "

""Not supposed to" is irrelevant. We need to know where Tohru is." Saki's voice was very quiet, yet somehow piercing and powerful – more so than if she had been bellowing.

The other girl appeared relieved to be allowed to share the burden weighing on her. She hadn't needed much persuasion before she spilled the story. "Tohru is . . . . . sh-she was . . . . . she's been kidnapped!"

Arisa was stunned and even Saki's face registered some shock. "Wh-what!? How? By who? Where have they taken her!? What do they want with her!?"

"I-I don't know!" mewled Chinatsu. "Tohru went out to work yesterday and n-never came home." She blew her nose again. "Some guy called this morning and said he and this other guy had her, but we d-don't know who they were . . . " – she hiccoughed – ". . . they w-wouldn't tell us . . . . and sh-she was talking on the phone."

Now that the initial shock had subsided, Arisa's fists clenched and her forehead sank in anger. "Is she hurt!?"

Chinatsu shook her head fervently. "She said no. She said she was fine." She struggled to get her next words out. "She said they didn't d-do anything to her."

"But?" prompted Saki, after a pause.

The girl's brown eyes shone with tears. "Ojii-san said she was scared," she said softly. She collapsed into fitful sobs again, so that Tohru's friends were only barely able to make out her words through her hyperventilation. "I-I just keep thinking about her! All the time! She's just so helpless, you know? She can't defend herself at all! She must be s-so scared and f-frightened and she's all alone. There's no-one to protect her! Wh-what if they don't feed her or, or, or beat her up or, or, or – " She was no longer able to speak. Her head was bowed onto her knees, and her breath rattled.

Her words had brought unsavoury image after even-more-unsavoury image into Arisa's mind, and she was torn between anger at the unknown assailants who had stolen her friend, and fear for her friend's welfare (which in turn served to make her angrier). "Hey, snap out of it!" she said, more unkindly that she intended. Chinatsu didn't pay any attention and continued crying. Arisa groaned and rose abruptly from the chair, her eyes blazing. "Agh, you're such a brat, you know that?"

"Arisa." Saki's eyes flicked pointedly towards Tohru's cousin, who was wiping her eyes meekly.

"I know," she said. "I know. I keep thinking about how horrible I've been to Tohru. What if I never see her again? What if I never get to apologise. It should be me in . . . . wherever she is, not Tohru."

Arisa couldn't fairly berate Chinatsu after that, but she was still angry. "So how do we get Tohru back?" she asked.

"That's the weirdest thing. The guy on the phone said they didn't want anything. They didn't want a ransom or anything like that. They just said they wanted Tohru."

"For what?" Arisa's voice was rising again.

"I've no idea." Chinatsu's voice wavered. "It's so terrible. I don't know what they're doing with her."

The blonde's fists clenched at this, unwanted images filling her head and enraging her. Dear, sweet, naïve Tohru had been snatched . . . and her fate was now entirely in the hands of the strangers who had kidnapped her, and her disaffected family, who had never seemed to care much about her. "So how are you gonna get her back?" The tall, imposing girl watched without satisfaction as the other girl flinched as she yelled.

"Arisa," said Saki again.

"Hold it, Hana," she retorted, shortly but not unkindly. "When we called here earlier your mom said Tohru was sick. She lied about this whole thing! So what are you guys doing to get her back? Have you even called the police or anything?" Saki turned a weighing gaze to Chinatsu.

"Otoji called an associate of his, a private detective."

"And why the heck did your hag of a mother lie to us!?"

They all knew the answer, in truth, or they could hazard an accurate guess. Perhaps there was some element of punishment in Arisa's pressing of Chinatsu. Perhaps she intended to force her to acknowledge the culpability of her family, and herself. Perhaps she wasn't thinking about this at all, and was just angry. Sadly and filled with obvious shame, Chinatsu bowed her head and murmured, "Okaa-san and Otoji don't want anyone to know."

The two unexpected guests both drew in a sharp breath. They had of course suspected or indeed realised this was the reason, and they had known that Tohru's family were primarily concerned by their image and reputation, but hearing it confirmed that they had truly cared more about these than their captured relative – when she was in such a uniquely dire position – only served to highlight the callousness of their behaviour. Tohru could be hurt – anything could be happening to her – and they didn't care. They just didn't care.

Chinatsu eventually broke the silence. "I'll get in trouble for telling." It was a simple, childlike statement, reminiscent of small innocent children, which didn't match the young woman.

"Uh . . . nah, don't worry. We got your back," Arisa mumbled, with none of her usual bravado.

Saki rose silently and automatically from her seat, although her friend knew she had also been deeply affected by the events which had transpired here. "We'd better leave. Your mother will be back soon." She said it with a certainty that made the other two sure she wasn't merely guessing, and so they followed suit without question.

Outside, it had begun to snow, ever so slightly. Tiny crystalline flakes floated towards the ground with an ethereal grace which belied the horrible crime the three young women were each meditating upon. Tohru's cousin meekly led the strange couple to the door, and, as they were stepping over the threshold, she hesitantly opened her mouth again. "I . . . I'm sorry. I really am. I should have been looking after her. She's so, so gullible and defenceless and all I've ever done is exploit that. And I'm sorry. She should hate me." She paused, on the verge of tears again. "But she doesn't, does she? That's what makes it so terrible."

Arisa was growing uncomfortable, and was in no state to be cheering anyone else up, but she felt she should say something, anything. So she did, as helpless as it might be. "No, she doesn't. She couldn't hate you. She's just not able to, and that's all there is to it." She laughed once in her throat and without humour. "Guess she should be the one who decides whether you get hated though, so for what it's worth, I don't either." Chinatsu looked up, surprised and somewhat vindicated. "No, I don't. Hey, thanks for telling us, ok? And most important, thanks for, you know, caring about her."

Chinatsu was silent for another while. "Bye," she mumbled, as she closed the door.

Exactly on cue, the car containing Tohru's aunt and her cousin Otoji appeared at the end of the street, as Saki and Arisa disappeared at the opposite end.

"That was amazing! Thank you both so much Hatori-san, Shigure-san! The lake is so beautiful, I'm so happy you showed it to me," the bubbling-over-with-glee Tohru thanked her unusual escort again, glad in spite of herself. Hatori smiled secretly as he opened the door (it was safe enough in this remote area to keep the door unlocked), and stood back, ever the gentleman, to let Shigure and Tohru into the warmth first. The day was now at a close, and the cold had intensified.

Tohru politely excused herself to tidy away her coat, gloves, et cetera upstairs in her room, while Shigure went into the kitchen to make tea for everyone (after throwing his obi and coat carelessly onto the pegs in the hall, while Hatori carefully hung up his auxiliary garments with quiet dignity). Hatori went into the living room, with a mind to finding a good book on the well-stocked shelves to read, when he noticed with some surprise that a message had been left on the answering machine while they were out on their walk.

That was odd. He hadn't given the Hondas the number, and none of the other Sohmas knew they were here. He pressed the button, and was even more surprised to hear Isuzu's frustrated voice.

"I'm looking for Hatori, you there? I've called around everywhere and no joy! Where are you, dammit!? No answer when I called your house phone, your office phone, your mobile, or Gure-nii's place! Listen, on the off chance you're at the lake house, get over to the main house and quickly! Akito's been at Kyo. Kagura found him beaten half to death and she won't leave until you get there!" He heard her sigh heavily. "He's hurt bad, Tori-nii, real bad, and if you don't get over here quickly, he could get worse, or Akito could find Kagura and do the same to her!"

The message ended as abruptly as it had started. Isuzu wasn't one for paltry greetings. Hatori deleted the message with a measured motion. "Shigure," he called, no louder than was necessary. Shigure came into the living room, carrying a cup of tea. His expression quickly matched Hatori's once he saw his solemn expression. "Shigure, Isuzu called. Kyo is injured, gravely." There was no need to name the perpetrator.

"Does she know you're here?" Shigure asked instantly.

"No, it was a message." Shigure's lack of surprise irked him. Neither man spoke for a while.

"So what are you going to do?"

The question irked Hatori further, because the answer was one he did not like. "Well, I have to go, don't I? Akito won't allow anyone else to treat him, and besides, Kyo is confined to the compound."

Shigure nodded once. "But?"

Hatori exhaled. "Did you plan this?" he asked, using the frank manner which worked best with Shigure, it seemed.

Shigure was unfazed. A shadow of a smile touched his lips. "Elaborate."

Hatori grated his teeth. "You realise the compromising position this puts me in. Kyo is wounded badly, and I won't know how badly until I get over there and treat him. But I can't leave her with you." Shigure only stared at him. "We said this before – I don't trust you with her alone, and my presence is what assures me she'll remain unharmed."

"And now, very conveniently for me if I am concocting another ignoble scheme, certain circumstances completely outside of your control have arisen which must spirit you away." Once again, Shigure managed to voice those things everyone knew but no-one wanted to hear.

"Well you don't seem very surprised," accused Hatori.

"And I'm not. I wish I was, Hatori. I wish this was the sort of family for whom this sort of terrible thing was a surprise. I knew it wasn't long before Akito turned his attention to Kyo again." Hatori gave him an unwavering death glare. "I could spend forever and a day trying to convince you I didn't plan this, and that Akito and I didn't conspire to draw you away, but you'd still be suspicious of me, so why don't we skip right ahead to your decision?"

"I'm going back, and I'm taking Honda-kun with me." Without another word he stepped determinedly into the hall and pulled his coat back on. Shigure followed him and leaned on the door's frame.

"You can't take her."

"I can't leave her."

"If you take her, she'll be in danger."

"If I leave her, she'll be in danger."

"I'm not going to let you take her back, Hatori." Hatori ignored him and went up the stairs to fetch his medical bag. When he returned to the hall, Shigure was blocking the front door.

"I'm not going to let you take her," he said again.

"I didn't consult you," Hatori said coolly.

Shigure stared him dead in the eyes. "Hatori, I meant what I said, she's not safe back there. Akito – "

"Don't you dare speak to me about Akito! You have no right to speak to me about Akito, or the danger Akito poses to her, or anyone else! You don't see it. You don't know about it. You've never had to pick up the broken pieces." It was many a time Hatori had had to stitch up the wounds Akito's hands had inflicted, and mend what had been broken. It was many a time Hatori had felt the pain and guilt and frustration that came with sending his patients right back to Akito, to be broken again someday.

Shigure's gaze held. "What do you think I'm doing right now, then?"

"I've no idea what you're doing, and I've no idea how you managed to talk me into helping you."

Shigure held his ground at the door, however. "Hatori, please trust me."

"I don't," he affirmed. It was true.

The slightly shorter man raised his eyes to Heaven in exasperation. "Ok, bad tactic," he half-joked. Suddenly sober again, he reasoned, "Haa-san, think about it. What could I possibly gain from this if I had planned it with Akito? Of course you'd be suspicious. I'd know you would. I know you better than that." Hatori was silent. "You remember what happened to her? I know you do. I do too. I think about it all the time, see it in my dreams and my daydreams. It doesn't fade. It's like a photograph, clear as the day it was taken. I've memorised the exact position of every cut and bruise that was on her body. And that's exactly what will happen again if you put her back where Akito can get to her." He said it with such conviction, it was hard to disbelieve.

But later, when he was in the car driving to the main house, alone, and the following days, and on several other occasions, Hatori would wonder about what had made him entrust Tohru to the man who had been responsible for all the pain she was caused . . . . and suspect, heavy with guilt, that that trust had been born from his own selfish need to believe that his friend was not a monster.

"Hatori-san? Shigure-san? Is something the matter?" The icy silence thawed somewhat when that innocent presence appeared at the top of the stairs.

Hatori answered after it became apparent Shigure would not. He was waiting to see what Hatori would do. "One of our relatives has been injured, Honda-kun. I've been summoned back to treat him."

Tohru's eye's widened. "Oh no! Is it very bad? Will they be alright?"

"I won't know until I get there, but they should recover as long as I hurry."

"I-I'll fetch you some food for the journey," she offered, darting down into the kitchen before anyone could stop her. Shigure brought his weight off the front door, a cool but mutual understanding having been reached between the two men.

It was when Hatori was on the porch, being handed foil parcel after parcel by Tohru, that he first began wondering about his reasons for leaving her here, quite literally between the teeth of the wolf. He was barely aware of her reminding him to be careful of frost on the roads in this cold weather, and so on.

"I'll be back soon," he promised himself more than her. Then, putting the parcels to one side, he took a light hold of her shoulders. "Tohru-kun." Tohru's curiosity was piqued; he had never called her by name before. "Will you be alright?"

"Ano, of course Hatori-san. Shigure-san will take care of me, and I won't be a bother. Thank you for – "

"No." He shook his head. "No, I didn't mean that. Tohru-kun . . . . . " He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "This is my number. If you're ever scared, or if there's anything wrong at all, anything, just call me and I'll be here right away, alright?"

Tohru somehow felt he was trying to make her pick up on some hidden meaning in his words, but she couldn't grasp it. "Th-thank you, Hatori-san." And Hatori had to be satisfied. He had done all he could without risking bringing her memories back. He closed his eyes, from stress more than anything else. "Ah, it's snowing!" His eyes shot open. "Isn't it beautiful?" Tohru's hands were stretched out to catch flakes. Her words took some time to register with his wandering mind.

"Even though it's so cold?" he thought aloud, beyond awed at her simple innocence.

"But there's warmth underneath, still," she said happily.

Hatori gazed back at the lake house, his thoughts again turned to its other occupant. "I hope so."

Shigure appeared in the hall ostensibly to see Hatori off, but their regards were clipped and short. Hatori walked to his car through the thickening snow and looked back one last time as the front door was shut, concealing Shigure and Tohru.

Notes:

Was Hatori's departure too rushed? I'm worried about that. Please tell me!

Anyway, sorry for taking forever! I'm giving up the internet for Lent, so while I won't be updating this story, I will still be writing, and I aim to have another two chapters finished by Easter. Happy Lent, everyone!