Hello! Welcome to chapter 4 of The Way Forward. Sorry for the long wait to anyone reading this. There's just been a lot of other things going on. But I didn't forget and I'm back with more. Hope you enjoy.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: This chapter deals with panic attacks. If you're not in the right place emotionally to read about them, please either proceed at your own risk or click away now.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.

Chapter 4: Do You Feel Guilty?

On most days, Shiori was more than happy to dive straight into her work and not emerge until the day was done. Life was easier that way. Less complicated.

She didn't see anything wrong with the way she ran her schedule, but her coworkers didn't always agree. And when the manager overheard her tell Esaki she was planning on skipping her lunchbreak once again, he sternly put his foot down and ordered her to go.

Shiori tried to argue—weakly, mind you, since she didn't dare mouth off to the manager when she was so new to her position. But he held his ground, and even went so far as to give her money to bring back pastries from the café down street for the staff. She supposed it was so she had to prove that she actually went into an eating establishment.

After conceding that it might be nice to get some fresh air and have a bite to eat, she relented and headed out, taking the relatively short walk down the block and crossing the street to reach the café. Luckily, it was relatively quiet there—and Shiori decided that she felt safe and comfortable enough to order something for herself and sit down to eat it.

However, business started to pick up as the afternoon approached, so she soon found herself gobbling up what was left of her soup so she could take a new place in line and order takeout for her colleagues. The line started moving fast as cashiers worked to keep up with the increasing number of customers. So as soon as she had her order and change, Shiori rushed to get out of the way. Out the door she went, bag in hand as she reached into the purse on her shoulder for her wallet.

As if just to spite her, Shiori's apartment key tumbled out of the bag at the same time, hitting the sidewalk with a clinking noise.

She let out a sound of disgust as she stuffed change into her wallet. "Great." Once she put it back in her purse, she had a free hand to reach down and pick up the fallen key—but suddenly, a different hand snatched it up.

"Hey!" Shiori gasped, initially confused by the swift motion until she raised her head and saw a familiar face.

The enigmatic and perpetually amused Shigure Sohma stood before her, dangling her key from his finger. A smile danced in his eyes, but she couldn't quite place what kind of a smile it was. Certainly not a warm one. It seemed more like the type of smile you would get from someone who's in on a private joke you've never heard of. For some reason, it immediately put her in a bad mood.

Shigure either didn't notice or paid it little mind, however. "Drop something?" he asked in a playful tone.

She sighed and reached for the key. "Yes, thank you—"

However, her voice cut off instantly when Shigure pulled the key just out of her reach. She stiffened and entered defense mode. "What are you doing?"

"Just delivering a dash of righteous payback is all," he said in a calm voice, soon moving his hand close enough so she could grab the key. Now she understood the joke, remembering how she pulled a similar stunt with him days ago, but she didn't appreciate it. Her heart was still pounding in her chest.

"Very cute," she commented dryly as she snatched the object from his grasp and put it back in her purse. "I wouldn't have expected to run into you here." With a quick glance down, she saw that he had To the Lighthouse in one of his hands. "Are you returning that already? It's only been a few days."

"I'm a fast reader," he replied. "And really, I just needed it as a reference for the quote I was using. You're working today, I presume?"

"Yes, I am," she said, stepping to the aside as someone walked past her. "I'm, uh... on lunchbreak."

"And got some snacks for the road, I see."

She lifted the bag of pastries gently and gestured down the street. "These are for the staff. Speaking of which, they're probably missing me by now... but you're welcome to join me if you're returning the book."

"Don't mind if I do," Shigure said, easily falling into step next to her. Then, he mused, "How fortuitous that I decided to take the train rather than my car. It's a nice day to walk with company."

She let out a short, small laugh. "The Library's only down the street. Although, yes—I suppose it is nice." Then, clearing her throat a little, she asked, "Are you thinking of checking out any other books today?"

Shigure lightly tapped To The Lighthouse on his shoulder. He seemed indecisive. "I'm not sure. Really, I just needed a bit of help getting in the mood to write. Inspiration has been in short supply these days."

"Ha. Yeah, I can understand that."

"Do you write?" he asked.

"I used to dabble a bit in high school," she replied. "And a little when I first started college. Then..." Her mouth opened, and then closed. She realized she was quickly leaving the realm of small talk and entering into a much less pleasant topic of conversation, and so she backpedaled before it went any further. "Then I just... didn't have the time or energy, I guess," she explained quickly. "It doesn't matter though. What I'm doing now is more or less what I've always wanted, so I can't complain."

Shiori was more at ease now—slowly realizing she had to take this man's glibness in stride and not take him too seriously. There was very little about him that seemed sincere, but he was attentive when she spoke and she appreciated having the company on the way back to the bookshop.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way," Shigure said, "But you seem like someone who's stubborn enough to do anything you set your mind to."

Shiori felt her eyebrows furrow as she considered this. "What would be the wrong way to take that?"

He made a shrugging gesture with both hands and said, "Well, I've found some women don't like to be referred to as 'stubborn.'"

A small smile came to Shiori's face as Shigure's comment brought to her mind a memory. One she hadn't thought about in years. Her father's face appeared behind her eyes, and briefly she wondered if she would ever be able to think about him without that familiar pang in her chest.

Nevertheless, she pushed that pain aside and said, "Someone once told me that stubbornness channeled in the right way can be a sign of good character. So I'll take that as a compliment, thank you."

Shigure chuckled. "Well, then."

They continued to chat as they came to the corner and began crossing the street, as Shiori had done dozens if not hundreds of times before. It was a perfectly ordinary day—but of course, she was not unaware of how quickly a situation could spiral out of control, without any warning.

By the time she noticed the car rounding the corner too fast and barreling down the street at a terrifying speed, Shiori and Shigure were already in the middle of its path. In that moment, there was very little time to think—Shigure had been speaking about who knows what and was mid-sentence when Shiori launched herself into him. She was small and not particularly strong, but the force with which she threw herself at him sent them both hurdling toward the other end of the street. Screeching tires and then a crash, and then someone's car alarm sounded in her ears, but she didn't look up right away. She was disoriented after slamming hard against the asphalt and bashing her shoulder. Later, she supposed she was lucky that it wasn't her head.

Letting out a small groan, Shiori lifted her body up and took note of the car that had just zipped by them, smashing into another parked vehicle on the side of the street. It was too early to say if anyone had been injured or worse.

The next instinct she had was to turn her attention to Shigure Sohma, who still seemed to be trying to get his bearings. She crawled over to him, almost desperately. She needed to know he was all right.

But Shigure, initially, was still preoccupied with the visual shock of the crash and hadn't paid himself any mind. It was only when Shiori said his name that he turned his attention to her.

"Well, I guess that was a close call for us," he said with a half-hearted laugh. "You put a lot of force behind that push."

"I'm sorry—" she replied. "I-I didn't think. I just... are you okay?"

Shigure had a thoughtful expression on his face. She wondered if he was emotionally repressed or if he was just excellent at taking life in stride. "Hmm, let's see," he murmured as he slowly moved his body, positioning himself to stand up. Then he made a grimace, turned onto his back and pulled himself into a sitting position.

"What's wrong?" Shiori asked, following his gaze down to his foot.

"I tried to put weight on my ankle and felt searing pain, so I don't think I can stand on it."

By that point, the street was growing busier as shop owners and civilians filtered out to see what was happening. Two individuals ran over to the car that crashed in hopes of helping the driver. Meanwhile, traffic on Shiori and Shigure's side had come almost to a standstill, and the loud cacaphony of voices and vehicles added to her growing anxiety.

Her first coherent thought was that the two of them needed to get off the street immediately. Looking at Shigure, however, she had doubts about her ability to help him if he could barely stand. So she waved down a passerby and asked them to provide extra assistance.

As they helped him onto the sidewalk where he would be safer once emergency responders arrived, Shigure murmured something about being embarrassed and Shiori thanked the kind stranger.

"How bad do you think it is?" she asked, too nervous to touch him. "Is it broken?"

He stretched his leg out on the sidewalk with an expression on his face that told her he was more than a little uncomfortable. "I'm no doctor," he said. "But I've broken bones before—and I don't think this is that."

"Maybe just a sprain then, if we're lucky," Shiori muttered. Then, earnestly, "I'm so sorry I hurt you."

"To be fair... I'd rather have a wonky ankle than be splattered on someone's windshield or flung down the street by the force of impact."

Shiori tried to laugh, but it came out half-baked. "Yeah... there's that."

Over the next several minutes, the two civilians down the road managed to pull an unconscious driver out of his now likely totaled car. It looked like he might have had a head injury, but Shiori was too far away to be sure. Luckily, no one else was in the vehicle—or in the vehicle he slammed into.

Sirens sounded as police and medics arrived, and the scene evolved into pandemonium. Shiori spoke only when spoken to by officers, who wanted her and Shigure's account of events. They made the two of them provide their contact information in case any other questions came up. And she watched silently as one of the first responders checked Shigure's ankle. She confirmed that it was likely a sprain, and advised him to elevate it and put it on ice when he got home.

Of course, both Shigure and Shiori had traveled by train and by foot.

"Is there someone I can call for you?" she asked, eyeing the small restaurant nearby. "I'm sure someone has a phone."

Shigure smiled. "Yeah, actually—if you wouldn't mind giving my friend Hatori a call... he should be able to come pick me up. Hm... if not, you can try Ayame instead."

So Shigure pulled out a pen and wrote both numbers on her palm so she could run down the street and ask for a phone. Luckily, they were all too willing when she explained the situation.

She dialed the first number on her hand, and seconds later, a deep yet soft voice answered the phone. "This is Dr. Hatori Sohma's office. Can I help you?"

Shiori blanched. This was a doctor's office?

Suddenly feeling rather sheepish, Shiori cleared her throat and said, "Um... hello. I'm—Shiori Furukawa. I was asked by your friend Shigure to call you. He was wondering if you could give him a ride home."

"I'm sorry," Hatori said, sounding confused. "Ride home from where? What's going on?"

Trying her best to remain cool and composed, Shiori explained the situation. She was careful not to leave out any important details. But her attempt to be thorough just seemed to frustrate Hatori, whose scowl was apparent, even through the phone.

"I'll be there soon," he murmured. "Tell him to stay put."

"Oh, I don't think he's going anywhere," Shiori said with an awkward laugh, but he had already hung up.

Admittedly, Shiori wasn't sure how to take his response, since she didn't know him. But she settled on telling Shigure that his friend was worried about him when she returned.

"Yeah, sounds like Hatori," Shigure said with a chuckle. "Other than healing the sick, worrying is what Hari does best. Sorry if you got his gruff side."

Shiori was on a very hairy edge at this point. And while a part of her just wanted to run back to the store and let this moment fade into memory, she couldn't bring herself to leave Shigure alone on the street. So she plunked herself down next to him and hugged her knees. She was overwhelmed and needed to stay in control.

Shigure seemed to notice her discomfort. "You doing all right?" he asked. "Maybe you should have let them check you out."

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I wasn't hurt." While she suspected she might be sore later after hitting the ground as hard as she did, it didn't seem critical enough to warrant medical attention.

For a few seconds, he didn't speak. Then, without any warning, four terrible words fell from his lips: "Do you feel guilty?"

His bluntness in this situation might have been enough to catch anyone off-guard. But Shiori's reaction was more extreme than she would have liked. She felt a sudden explosion of adrenaline, followed by fast, hard beats inside her chest that wouldn't seem to stop. Suddenly, the world spun around her, and her first thought was that she might pass out in front of all these people and have to go to the ER with the man who crashed the car.

It just made her anxiety worse.

Just breathe, Shiori. You've never passed out from a panic attack before. Just ride it out. Get through it.

She dug her fingers into her arms, holding on for dear life.

"What can I do to help you?"

Shigure's voice came gently then, without cruelty or judgement. But she couldn't bring herself to look at his face. It was too much.

"I don't know," she said with chattering teeth before resting her forehead on her arm and turning her gaze down to her lap.

"You're going to make your arm bleed if you keep digging your nails in like that," he observed. Then, he asked, "Could I hold your hand instead?"

Normally, Shiori didn't care to be touched while she was in the middle of a panic attack. More often than not, it made her feel confined and agitated. And that was the last thing she needed.

But something about what Shigure said—perhaps the simple fact that he asked—or that he wasn't coming off as though he was desperately trying to make himself useful—comforted her. And without lifting her head, Shiori let go of her arm and slowly outstretched her hand, blindly seeking this man she barely knew because for some reason, those words made her feel safer in that moment.

Then the warmth of his long, slender fingers enveloped hers. And even though they didn't erase her anxiety, slow her heart, or stop the world from turning at an alarming rate, she was grateful she didn't have to face it all alone.

Shiori Furukawa was squeezing Shigure's hand so hard that it hurt. But strangely enough, he was grateful for it. It took his mind off the pain from his ankle injury.

At one point, she asked him to talk to her—presumably as a way to distract her or help her relax. And so for a solid fifteen minutes, he prattled on about whatever he could think of. There were a few instances when he thought she wasn't paying attention anymore—but then she would cut in with a dry or kind remark. And for some reason, he'd find himself smiling.

Finally, her grip loosened on his hand and she seemed to calm down a bit, her gaze drifting across the street to where dozens passersby simply couldn't resist trying to get a glimpse of the accident. She didn't let go of him though. So he didn't bother pulling away. The last time he remembered holding someone's hand was... well, when he was a child, he supposed.

It wasn't long before Hatori finally arrived. He had to park down the street since part of the area was blocked off now. But Shigure knew as soon as his friend exited the vehicle that he was in for trouble.

"Ah, here comes Hatori now," Shigure said, prompting Shiori to look up.

"When I suggested you get out more, this is decidedly not what I had in mind," Hatori said as he approached them. "What on Earth happened, Shigure?" The man looked exhausted. But then, he usually did, with the number of hours he worked.

"Just a sprain, hopefully," Shigure said. "Sorry to cut in on your work day."

"Well, thankfully it's been a slow day at the Estate. I did run into Akito, however. So I told her what happened. I expect she'll want to hear from you about it, since she seemed worried."

The idea of Akito being worried about him brought Shigure more pleasure than it probably should have. Of course, he didn't say as much. "Well, that's sweet of her to worry. Maybe I'll have you take a message."

"No. You can talk to her yourself."

I'd love to, but I doubt she wants that.

"Anyway," Shigure said with a sigh, realizing Shiori was sitting next to him looking incredibly uncomfortable, "We can chat about all that later. Let me introduce you to the woman you talked to on the phone. This is Shiori Furukawa, the Librarian. Furukawa, this is Hatori Sohma. We're from the same clan."

Suddenly, Shiori shot to her feet, catching Shigure by surprise when she dropped his hand. "I'm so sorry," she told Hatori earnestly. "It's my fault. Like I said on the phone, I pushed him, so—"

"Now now, no need to get all worked up," Hatori said, in his usual soft but stern tone. "From what I'm hearing it sounds like you saved his life. I should be thanking you and apologizing for Shigure here. Not the other way around."

Shigure pretended to be offended when in fact, he was just amused. "Now why should you be apologizing for me? I didn't do anything wrong. We were crossing the street."

Hatori glanced at Shiori. "Well, the fact that he's sat there letting you think it was all your fault should be reason enough."

Just as Shigure was preparing to respond, Shiori quickly said, "Oh, he didn't! I mean—that is—he did try his best to reassure me, but I..." She glanced over and met his gaze with an expression he couldn't quite place. Then, with a shrug and a small, yet very false smile, she added, "I can't help but wonder what I could have done differently, I suppose. I'm glad you're okay, though. Truly."

Hatori proceeded to tell Shiori he could take care of Shigure from there, but she insisted on helping them both get back to the car. Shigure kept a covert eye on her throughout this process, wondering just how much of the friendly exterior she displayed with Hatori was real and how much was a facade. Was it all right to leave her?

Once he was seated on the passenger side of Hatori's car, Shiori stood on the sidewalk with a smile. "Drive safely getting home."

"You sure you'll be okay?" Shigure asked, thinking back again to her trembling hand in his. It unnerved him more than he was willing to admit.

But she simply nodded and replied, "The library is just over there, yeah, so I'll be going back to work. It will be nice having something else to focus on for a while." She then held up To the Lighthouse and shook it lightly. "I'll return this for you, okay? Nice to meet you, Hatori!" The Doctor held a hand up in acknowledgement as she waved at him through the door. And before Shigure had the chance to add anything further, she was gone.

On the way home, he faced more questions from Hatori, so he had little time to sit and reflect on recent events or wonder about Shiori's wellbeing.

"I'm pretty sure it's just a sprain—nothing serious," Shigure said, even as he had to hold back a wince every time he moved his foot.

"I'll be the judge of that once I get you back home. Although, I imagine it can't be that bad since you obviously had time to flirt while waiting for me."

Shigure blinked in surprise. For once, he genuinely wasn't sure what his friend was referring to. "Flirt? What do you mean?"

"Furukawa, obviously."

Shigure laughed. "We weren't flirting."

"Well, you were holding hands."

"It wasn't meant to be cute. I was helping her through a panic attack—that's it."

A beat passed before Hatori responded. "That was... kind of you."

"Ha," Shigure said. "What high praise. You know, she did save my life, after all. I'm not a complete monster."

Hatori let out a deep sigh. "For all your flaws, Shigure—I've never accused you of that. So if you really believe that about yourself, maybe you should talk to someone."

This time, it was Shigure's turn to pause. He supposed it was his own fault for bringing his personal issues into the conversation. To him, things seemed so much simpler and clearer before—when he and the Dog Spirit were still one. He'd never felt quite so raw and vulnerable—or alone—as he did now. He still loved Hatori and Aya, and yet it felt as though something that was once intrinsic in their bond had been lost. This made it somehow harder to be open with them than it use to be.

Finally, he uttered a dispassionate, "Maybe," and turned to gaze out the window, at other cars driving by.

"Either way, it sounds like you were lucky she was there," Hatori said.

"Very lucky indeed," Shigure murmured.

"You said she was a Librarian?"

"Yeah—we met a couple days ago, actually. She helped me find a book I was looking for and we talked a bit. It was pleasant."

"Sounds like you like her. Maybe you should ask her out."

At that point, Shigure could only laugh. "Oh, I really don't think so."

"Well, why not?" Hatori asked. "It would be good for you."

Shigure knew his friend meant well, and he supposed this was a small price to pay for meddling in his love life. But try as they might, Hatori and Aya never truly understood. And he wasn't overly interested in attempting to explain himself.

"I've never been that interested in casual dating," Shigure replied, resting his face against the back of his hand. Sure, he had dated Mayu for a while—if you could even call what they did "dating." They were little more than a couple of lost souls who kept each other company for a while. He never even took a romantic or sexual interest in her. She knew there wasn't much point in it, and after a while he had to admit he started to feel the same way.

"Maybe you should start thinking about looking for something a bit more serious, then," Hatori suggested. He briefly glanced away from the road, seemingly searching Shigure's expression. He wondered what his friend could see.

"There's only one person I'm serious about and you know that."

Hatori huffed and began, "Shigure—have you considered the possibility that Akito is just not going to change her mind? How long are you going to put your life on hold and sit around waiting?"

"Well, I've waited this long."

"It isn't healthy."

Shigure, now irritated, just wanted to drop this conversation. "That means a lot coming from the guy who's still working and living at the Sohma Estate—and answering to Akito, no less."

As anticipated, the comment made Hatori visibly uncomfortable. And after opening his mouth and closing it once, he said, "She gives me my space. There's plenty of work to do there. I'm planning to leave eventually. Just—life gets in the way."

"I'm just saying," Shigure murmured. "I'm not sure any of the Sohmas are fit to give advice on what's 'healthy.' We're all screwed up, Hatori."

He knew many of the Sohmas, himself included, had been tricked into believing that once the Zodiac curse was broken, they would all magically be healed of their woes and nothing would ever be wrong again. What a cruel illusion that was. Of course, he didn't utter these words out loud to Hatori. Somehow, he felt confident that they were implicitly understood.