Essential truths

Sometimes, his whole life seemed like a gamble to him. Why was it that every time he thought he'd gained some control, something happened to throw everything out of balance again?

"Congratulations. You have just learned one of life's essential truths," Fudo stated.

Inuko lifted his head to look at the old man.

"We never are prepared," Fudo continued. "No matter how old we get, how much experience we acquire, some events will always catch us off-guard. That's part of human nature. Also, it's a good thing. Because it's times like this that shape our character the most; that help us to become a stronger person. The only thing we have to do is to meet these challenges with confidence and hope, and the knowledge that life goes on; no matter what."

From: "In the Year of the Dog" by Shigure Souma, chapter 9

"Good morning, Shigure-san!"

The porter had a hard time hiding his surprise at his sight. Shigure's visits to Souma Estate in the last one and a half years had been sporadic, and he'd never come in officially through the main gate, but rather snug in through the small gate that was used by the servants, or even climbed the wall like he and Ayame used to do during their high school years after long – and forbidden – nights of partying around town.

"Good morning," Shigure answered politely. "Can you please tell Akito-san that I am here and wish to speak to him?"

Now the surprise was even more obvious. People usually were summoned by the head of family. They didn't request to speak to him. Still, the porter picked up the phone to call the main house. Shigure leaned against the wall of the porter's lodge, enjoying the first rays of sunlight warming his skin. He more felt than heard somebody coming up beside him.

"Shigure!" a soft voice called out. "What an unexpected sight, so early in the morning!"

Shigure turned towards the speaker. He had to blink against the bright morning sun, but he didn't really need his eyes to recognize the silent, almost cat-like way of moving and that voice, sounding like frozen honey.

"Jiro-san."

The tiger of the Zodiac inclined his head in a mock-bow and stepped closer towards him. "What brings you here, Shigure, after all this time?" He asked in a would-be-concerned voice.

At that moment, the porter stuck his head of his window and announced to Shigure:

"Akito-sama is willing to receive you and awaits you in his breakfast-parlour."

"Oh… that it is, isn't it?" Jiro chuckled. It almost sounded like purring. "You'd better be careful, Puppy! Remember how your dealings with our beloved head of family ended the last time…" With that, he bowed again and strolled away down the alley.

Shigure tried to ignore the sudden cold shudder running down his spine.

"Thank you," he said to the porter and made his way to the huge mansion in the centre of the compound.

When he'd visited Souma Estate, he'd gone to the family homes of the Jyuunishi, most often to Hatori's and Ayame's. He'd never entered the main house, where Akito lived and from where she ruled over this strange and almost independent world that was the Souma's.

He'd forgotten how long the mansion's corridors were, how empty and silent. The atmosphere reminded him of a mausoleum.

And then he was standing in front of the parlour door. His mouth felt dry. Suddenly, the simple task of lifting a hand and knocking on the door seemed too hard to perform. How often during his absence had he imagined this moment? How many speeches, how many grand explanations had he rehearsed for the day of their reunion? Now he knew he wouldn't give any of them. Because he knew: If he tried to say any of this, he'd break down and start to cry, or fall at her feet and beg for forgiveness. And that could never happen. He couldn't – wouldn't be weak in front of her.

He rapped his hand against the door two times.

"Come."

The voice that called out was crisp and dark; the voice of a complete stranger. In fact, hadn't he known better, he would have thought it was a man calling instead of a young girl.

Shigure swallowed and pushed the door open.

The curtains were draped over the windows, leaving the room in shadow. The light from the corridor threw a sharp, bright lance into the semi-darkness, until Shigure closed the door behind him and shut it out.

Akito was sitting at the low table, both hands resting on its surface. Her gaze was directed towards her hands, her ebony bangs hiding her face.

As Shigure walked towards her, the soft sounds of his bare feet on the wooden floor seemed incredibly loud in his ears.

She didn't invite him to join her at the table, so he knelt down a short distance away and waited for her to acknowledge his presence. Seconds passed, in which his own breathing seemed to be the only sound in the room. Didn't she breathe at all?

Suddenly, her head snapped up in an abrupt movement, and they stared at each other for the first time since his departure from Souma Estate two years ago.

The change that had heralded itself back then was now completed: There was no innocence left in her face or the stiff posture of her body. The yukata she wore seemed several sizes too large for her slender frame, covering up whatever figure she might have acquired in the past years. His nose caught a faint whiff of a men's perfume masking her own sweet scent.

Still, her jade green eyes were as mesmerizing as ever. Right now, they were filled with disgust, but he wasn't sure if it was directed at him or at the half-eaten piece of rusk on the plate beside her.

She obviously wasn't well. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent and she seemed to shiver ever so slightly. It made him want to drape a blanket over her shoulders, or suggest she go sit out in the sun for a while to warm up. But he remained silent.

"So you finally come crawling back," she stated in that new, crisp voice of hers.

"No, Akito-san. I'm just a visitor."

He'd never called her that when they were alone. The formal title stood between them like a wall of ice.

"You choose to stay homeless, then. A stray mutt."

In his head, he'd called himself the exact same thing far too often to even flinch at the insult now.

"No, Akito-san," he repeated, shaking his head. "I've made myself a new home. I've bought a house, a couple of weeks ago."

Upon arriving at the estate, he'd vowed to remain aloof and distant, but being near her again, his resolve wavered and he couldn't stop the warmth from creeping into his voice as he described it to her: "It's in the middle of a forest. The air smells like wood and wildflowers, and every morning I wake up to the songs of the birds. It's beautiful! I really whish you could see it…"

Her jaw clenched at his words. She picked up the rusk from her plate and began absent-mindedly crumbling it to pieces between her fingers. Shigure wondered vaguely if she imagined him to be that piece of bread. His voice trailed off.

However, when she spoke, her voice held no anger. In fact, it held no emotion at all.

"If you love it that much, maybe you should get back to it now."

He nodded, accepting the dismissal. Still, he didn't move yet, but said in as calm and kind a voice as he could muster: "I am taking Yuki with me."

The room seemed to chill several degrees. He waited for an outburst of temper, but it didn't come.

"Because of the air?"

That puzzled him. "The air?"

"Hatori said there was something in the air here that Yuki might be allergic to. It's giving him trouble to breathe."

He almost smiled. Good, old Hatori! Always trying to protect the people he loved. Shigure decided to accept his gift for now.

"Yes, that's what he told me, too. I thought it might be good for Yuki to come live at my place for a while. As I said, it's in the middle of a forest. Lot's of clean air…"

He concentrated on not holding his breath while the moments ticked passed. Finally, one of her hands slowly vanished into the folds of her yukata and produced a key.

Shigure got to his feet and stepped up to the table. As he took it from her hand, their fingers touched lightly for a split second. Her skin felt hot and dry and his own seemed to burn for minutes after the sensation of touching her was gone. He bowed and walked to the door.

"Shigure."

Her voice stopped him. He turned around.

"Come by; report on how he's doing."

He bowed again. "Yes, Akito-san."

He let himself out onto the corridor, leaving her in the darkness. He tried in vain to feel some triumph over this small victory.

The silence he left behind screamed at her. Her carefully maintained posture falling apart, she buried her head in her hands. She stayed like this for a long time, listening to her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

Finally gathering her strength, she got to her feet and picked up the plate with the crumbled rusk with both hands. With slow, tired steps she made her way to the slide-door that led out into the garden.

The bright sunlight outside was like a dagger being drilled into her skull. Sinking to the ground, she set down the plate beside her, leaned against the wall of the building and pressed her forehead to her knees.

She heard the rustling of delicate wings, and the small chirps as the birds came to eat what was supposed to be her breakfast. Birds didn't only live in the forest. There were some here at Souma Estate, too. But she couldn't hear their songs in the darkness.

Hatori was waiting for him in the corridor. Relief was written plainly on his face, as Shigure smiled faintly and held up the key.

"You're a magician."

Shigure shook his head and walked up to his friend.

"Ha-san lied for me," he whispered. For no reason at all, he suddenly felt like crying.

"It wasn't that much of a lie," Hatori countered. "Living in this house is making Yuki ill, only it's not an allergy that causes the illness."

Shigure gave a short laugh. "Seems like I'm finally rubbing off on you."

Hatori smiled, but the smile faded away and tense silence settled around them once more, as they made their way to the one room in the house that was never mentioned by either family or servants.

Shigure unlocked the door. He'd initially intended to leave the key in the hole, but thought better of it. There was no need for Akito being able to lock somebody else in here. He slipped the key into his pocket to throw it into the trash later. Of course, it was always possible that she had a spare key somewhere.

The room had no windows. Its walls were painted black, a black that seemed to swallow the light falling in from the corridor, creating the illusion of standing at the edge of an abyss.

The light didn't quite reach the small figure that lay curled up in the far corner. Hatori quickly stepped towards it. Shigure followed much more hesitantly. Never having seen the room before, only having heard Hatori speak about it, he had to fight down a slight feeling of nausea.

Hatori knelt next to the tiny bundle on the floor.

"Yuki," he called gently. "Yuki, can you hear me?"

A small whimper answered his voice.

"It's alright, Yuki. Everything's going to be fine now." Hatori's soft murmur floated through the darkness like soothing warmth.

He picked up the child in his arms and stepped past Shigure onto the corridor. Shigure followed and closed the door behind him.

Then he ventured a look at his new charge.

He seemed very small and frail for an eleven-year-old. His yukata was ragged and dirty, the silvery-grey hair a mess. Violet eyes flickered over Shigure without really seeing him, then fell shut. Shigure's stomach clenched at the sight of the bloody streaks that covered the child's bare feet and ankles.

"I… am very relieved you're doing this," Hatori said quietly.

Shigure could only nod.

"We'd better get going immediately, before Akito changes her mind or something."

'She won't' Shigure would have liked to say. But truth was; Akito had always been volatile.

"I've already packed Yuki's things, since I didn't know how rapid an escape you might have to make," Hatori explained, leading the way to where he had parked his car. "I've also bought a few extra changes of clothing. He might need them now that he's getting a real life."

They arrived at the car.

"The key is in my back pocket," Hatori said, needing both hands to hold Yuki. "Could you..?"

Shigure fished the key out of Hatori's pocket, unlocked the car with it and stuck it into the ignition. Afterwards, he took a seat on the passenger's side and Hatori settled the boy on his lap.

It was then when it became real to him. Until now, he'd thought about it, and talked about it, but it hadn't been real. But now he felt the heat of a frail body pressed up against his, felt tiny hands fisting in his hair as Yuki clung to his neck. And he realized that the responsibility for this battered, damaged child was now his. Was he really up to it?

The feeling of pressure he'd become so familiar with in the last two years settled around his heart. He could feel the familiar headache starting to build in his left temple.

Irritated, he shook his head. There was no need for this. If he'd learned one thing during his travels throughout Japan, and during the time after, when he'd worn his hands to the bone working in order to earn enough money to buy the house, it was this: Whatever happened would happen; and it would be alright, one way or another.

"Qué será, será," Shigure murmured, resting his cheek against the soft grey hair, as Hatori sat behind the steering wheel and started the car.

He wouldn't put himself under too much pressure over this. And he wouldn't put this child – his child – under pressure either.

tbc