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“Up. Up.” Shigure coaxes. Rin lifts her arms obediently, lets Shigure cradle her against him. She doesn’t object to the childish way he addressed her, and he thinks that maybe she’s too tired. She settles in his arms, leans against him wearily. She’s small for her age, and normally looks even younger from her parents dressing her in such frilly, silly things.
She’s also surprisingly quiet, unlike some of the other cousins her age. She prefers to sit and listen, and so it’s no shock that when she addresses anyone she speaks in full, polite sentences, with big words and no mispronunciations. Of course, some of that is probably due to her spending most of her time around himself, Hatori, and Ayame. (Although thankfully she has yet to start picking up Ayame’s dramatics.)
Rin has just turned nine, and has finished her zodiac dance for the evening, the first once of her life. She and Ayame danced beautifully together. Next year she will dance alone, since Hiro is barely old enough to speak, much less dance.
Ayame leans against Shigure, gently touching Rin’s cheek. “Thank you.” He murmurs, much more subdued than Shigure’s seen him in a while.
Rin touches his hand and nods, but doesn’t say anything.
“Are you tired?” Shigure asks.
“That felt strange.” Rin finally says. She plays with the bells that Ayame had threaded into her hair. They make a soft, golden noise. “Like I was remembering something.”
Shigure could understand. The last time he danced, he was only a little older than she is now. He remembers the feeling of another being deep inside him, guiding his hands and body. Something from long ago.
“The spirit of the horse.” Ayame says lightly, smoothing her hair. “It’s why you dance so light on your feet.”
Rin nods, and looks off over Shigure’s shoulder towards the rest of the cousins. They’re all playing quietly together, or talking, or young enough to have already been put to bed. Some of the children are even out cold on cushions. It’s late, Shigure realizes. It will be midnight soon.
“Would you like to be with them?” Shigure asks.
“No.”
“Rin-chan, should I take the bells out of your hair?”
Rin flushes, and shakes her head no. She likes them. Ayame smiles warmly at her.
Hatori appears at Shigure’s elbow, and he sniffs at both Shigure and Ayame in such a suspicious way that Rin giggles.
“You haven’t been drinking, then.” Hatori says. “I’m surprised.”
“On our best behavior.” Shigure says gravely.
“Akito will want to see you.”
“I know, I know…” Shigure says airily, shifting his hold on Rin. The thought of seeing Akito makes him more jittery than usual, and he wonders if there’s something about New Years that is making his connection to her so much more raw.
“Isuzu, your parents will be here soon.” Hatori delivers the news, his eyes dropping from Shigure to look at her.
Rin stiffens in Shigure’s arms. It’s barely perceptible, schooled by almost a two years of training herself to not be obvious, but Shigure feels her previously lax body jump to attention at the reminder. He tenses up too, although not enough that she can feel it. Still, the thought of another person— someone outside the Jyuunishi, someone who doesn’t understand them— the thought of them touching her makes him feel sick. It’s difficult to determine how much of his possessiveness is due to the bond, and how much of it is just his own personality.
“She can stay here tonight, right, Rin-chan?” Shigure asks. “She wants to listen for the bells at midnight. We can put her to bed.”
Rin nods quickly, twisting her little hand in Shigure’s shirt. Shigure holds her closer, looks up a little too quickly at Hatori, like he’s asking for permission.
Hatori’s eyes meet Shigure’s steadily, and then he nods. “…I’ll let them know.”
“They knew better than to come, at least.” Ayame says. The implicit, casual mention of her abuse is unsettling, but there’s a subtle undercurrent of anger to Ayame’s words that Shigure almost finds comforting. Shigure’s not sure how many people know— beyond Ayame and Hatori and himself, he’s sure that some of the other parents are aware of it. Shigure’s own parents had simply told him not to make trouble.
Hatori goes off to call her parents, and when he returns the conversation is carefully guided to lighter topics— Ritsu is starting high school, and is already popular with the girls. Kagura is enjoying training at Kazuma’s dojo, and it seems to be a promising outlet for her boundless energy. Haru is in elementary school, and much to the chagrin of his mother, has decided that he does not like it.
Shigure continues to hold Rin throughout the conversation, but she’s is so tired and achy that she doesn’t really mind. Later, when Shigure is summoned by a servant to see Akito, he leans down and places her in Hatori’s lap. Hatori’s relaxing on the floor, leaning back against the wall and keeping an eye on Kagura, who looks tired but is insisting on staying up to hear the bells. She and Haru are playing some kind of game together, and she keeps yawning and almost falling over each time.
“Stay with Tori-nii, okay?” Shigure says.
Hatori reaches up and accepts the bundle of sleepy girl that’s being handed to him. Rin is warm from Shigure’s arms, and she nestles into Hatori without a second thought. She seems to be drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, watching the room around them through lidded eyes.
Hatori’s tired enough that he doesn’t mind the excuse to stay seated, so he sits and watches the room with her for a while. Kagura’s mother comes over and claims her child, who has finally given in and laid down on the floor. Hatori watches as she jokingly pretends that lifting her small child is some great feat, moaning and groaning as she struggles to lift her little girl. It ends with Kagura giggling sleepily in her mothers arms, throwing her arms around her mothers shoulders so she can snuggle closer. Satsuki is laughing too, and Hatori can’t help but wonder if she feels some sort of pain at not being able to do that with her own son. Momiji’s mother is watching, but she isn’t laughing.
The look she’s giving Kagura and her mother is unsettling, and Hatori eyes her.
“Hatori?” Kagura’s mother is suddenly in front of him.
“Ah— yes?”
“Would you like me to take Isuzu back to her home?” She offers. “You look half asleep.”
“She’ll be staying in the main house tonight.” Hatori tells her.
“Of course.” She smiles. “Happy New Year, Hatori.”
“Happy New Year.” He echoes. Kagura waves at Rin. Rin does not wave back. Hatori wonders if she’s jealous or just tired. Being passed around by older cousins is no replacement for being held by a mother.
Not that he would know.
“Just the people I wanted to see.” Ayame says, gracefully settling down beside the two of them. Hatori looks over in surprise. “You seem a little zoned out.”
“I was just thinking.” Hatori says. He looks back over for Momiji’s mother, but she must have left.
“I brought you something for that.” Ayame says, offering him a glass. Hatori readjusts Rin in his arms, and takes the glass. The liquid inside is dark, and smells sweet and smoky. They may still be below the legal drinking age, but the Sohmas, and the Jyuunishi especially, have never let themselves be limited by something as pedestrian as a legal limit. Hatori takes an experimental sip.
“This is nice.”
“Someone must have brought it. I can’t imagine the maids putting out something so nontraditional.”
“Mm.”
“Have you seen Shigure?” Ayame asks.
“No.” Hatori takes another sip, then sets the glass aside. “I assume he’s still with Akito.” It had been a while since he left, though. Hatori wonders if Shigure will just sleep there tonight.
“I see.” Ayame says. He looks over at the two of them. “You look exhausted. Do you want me to take her to bed?”
“It’s fine.” Hatori says. “I want to hear the bells too.”
Ayame laughs. “Suit yourself.” He takes a drink from his own glass. Hatori returns to silently watching the people around them. Ayame sighs and drops his head onto Hatori’s shoulder.
The bells quietly begin to toll soon after that, thin and clean. Midnight. Hatori slowly counts the rings in his head, and Rin stirs below him in his arms. It’s her year.
“Happy New Year.” Ayame says to her.
“Happy New Year.” She repeats. Hatori looks down at Rin, watches her rub her eyes and then look detachedly at the people in the room around them, laughing and drinking and celebrating.
“Let’s get you to bed.” He decides.
They both bid goodnight to Ayame, which involves a kiss on the cheek for Hatori, and a gentle stroke of the cheek for Rin. Ayame offers to come upstairs with them, but Hatori brushes him off. “Maybe keep an eye out for Shigure.” He murmurs.
Ayame nods, and gives Rin one last little wave goodbye. Rin waves back.
Hatori carries her upstairs, where there are rooms for guests to stay in. They have been cleaned and prepared for the arrival of New Years’ guests— the lamps are lit, and there is a bowl of flowers on the nightstand. He helps her unlace her ceremonial robes and change into a yukata too big for her. He rolls back the sleeves, carefully cuffs them so they won’t come undone while she sleeps. He helps Rin climb into bed, tucks the blanket around her, and sits beside her on the mattress to begin the long, slow process of removing the bells from her hair. She sits very still for him as he moves his fingers through her inky hair.
Behind him, the door opens.
“Ha-san?”
“In here.” He responds, working at a particularly stubborn ribbon.
The door clicks shut and Shigure walks into view. He looks strange, his hair messy in a way that isn’t his usual intentional mop, his eyes wild. Rin must feel it too, because he feels one of her hands grab onto his shirt and hold it. The sleepy atmosphere dissipates, replaced by something much more jarring.
Hatori drops his eyes back to Rin’s hair. “Are you okay?” He asks, casual as to not spook Shigure or alarm Rin. He reaches down, carefully disentangling Rin’s hand from his shirt so he can scoot her a little closer to him. He’s not afraid that Shigure would hurt Rin, but rather that seeing Rin unsettled might upset him further.
“Fine.” Shigure responds, but he’s snappier than he usually is. He’s pacing the room like a wild dog.
“Do you need something?” Hatori asks.
“I’m fine.” Shigure says again.
Hatori can understand some of what he’s feeling. Spending time with Akito can feel strange and unnerving, there’s an otherworldly pull that she has on them. When they’re alone with her, and all her energy is focused on them— it’s so easy to fall into her. Shigure spends enough time with her that he attunes to her quickly, drops into the bond so deeply and easily that he can be distant for hours after leaving her. Still, something must have happened to have Shigure so on-edge.
Shigure finally stops pacing and drops into a chair in the corner, pressing his face into his hands. Hatori can tell he wants to talk, but this isn’t a discussion that Rin should be present for. He starts working a little more quickly, wanting to deal with… whatever Shigure needs right now. His fingers slip and pull hard on a lock of Rin’s hair, and she freezes so absolutely that Hatori removes his hands from her entirely. She’s never told him, but Hatori knows with complete certainly why Rin is so sensitive to her hair being pulled. His stomach turns.
He can clearly remember the day after school, when on their walk home Shigure stopped him, told him what he had discovered had been happening to Rin. The whole time he’d been looking off into the trees, completely unwilling to look at Hatori. It was less than a month after Hatori’s father had died, and he was still reeling from it, so he tucked the barely-processed information into the back of his mind so it could jump out at inopportune moments.
“…Rin?”
She’s looking away from him, down at the blankets where she’s tracing a slow circle into the sheets with her finger.
Hatori glances up, and his stomach sinks further when he realizes Shigure hasn’t even registered Rin’s upset. He’s usually pretty sensitive to her moods, and must be completely out of it to not even notice.
Hatori picks her up carefully, settles her in his lap so she can lean against him while he continues to undo her hair, this time carefully undoing the plaits that Ayame had gracefully created so much earlier that evening. She holds still for Hatori, but leans heavily against him, and he knows that he’s forgiven. She’s watching Shigure carefully now from the safety of Hatori’s lap. She doesn’t look afraid but she does look… unsettled.
Rin looks up at Hatori, and then very softly— “Is Gure-nii okay?”
Oh.
She’s worried for him.
Hatori can’t help the small, sad smile that he gives her. “He’ll be fine.” He murmurs.
“Did Akito hurt him?”
It’s incredible that Rin is even able to ask that question, and a testament to how far she must have withdrawn into herself to not even have the curse pull at her when she says it. Hatori finds himself tongue-tied as he tries to respond, the bond strong in his mind, blocking him from even considering it. He feels nauseous.
“He’ll be fine.” Hatori repeats.
Rin doesn’t quite seem satisfied by that, but she also seems to know that the conversation is over, so she resettles in his lap.
By the time Hatori is finished with her hair, Shigure’s breathing is slower and less ragged. His hands are still covering his face.
“Bedtime.” Hatori says, dropping the last of the bells onto the nightstand and helping Rin under the blankets. She moves slowly, carefully, and settles to sleep on her side, with a spare pillow tucked into her arms to snuggle with. She watches Hatori as he tucks the blanket up under her chin, as he strokes her hair, as he turns out the lamp sitting next to her bed.
Hatori can’t tell if she’s asleep or just pretending to be, but he’s satisfied enough that he gets up from beside her and goes to sit at the foot of the bed, across from the chair that Shigure has parked himself in.
“Shigure.”
“Hatori.” Shigure breathes.
“What do you need?”
Shigure shakes his head. “I don’t know. Her.”
Hatori glances back at Rin. “Be careful.” Hatori had gotten so into the habit of referring to Akito as a man, even around Shigure, that the barest reference to her true gender sets him on edge.
“She’s asleep.” Shigure mutters. “I can tell.” He finally pulls his hands back from his face, although he still won’t look at Hatori. There’s a slight sheen to his eyes that a few years ago might have been full-on tears, but have now been schooled into submission.
Hatori hesitates, then nods. He trusts Shigure’s sensitive hearing, although it still makes him uncomfortable to have this discussion in front of her. He imagines erasing another Jyuunishi’s memories, even the smallest piece, and the thought of it is so disturbing that he pushes it away entirely.
Shigure grinds the palm of his hand against his face. “She’s under my skin.” He says.
“Did something happen?”
Shigure removes his hand, covers his mouth and stares at the floor in front of him. “I just held her for a while. She sent me away. She was tired…”
“And?”
“I wasn’t ready.” Shigure mutters, almost ashamed. “It was too fast.”
That explains his mood, then. Hatori could understand. Being sent away by Akito could be hurtful, especially after spending hours soaking in her presence. Especially for Shigure.
“It’ll wear off.”
Shigure heaves a sigh. “Yeah. For now.” He’s still not looking at Hatori. His eyes wander over to Rin’s sleeping body, and Hatori can see the otherworldly way that Shigure’s eyes reflect the dim light in the room.
“She did well tonight.” Shigure says, a note of pride in his voice that would better belong to a parent or teacher, not a distance cousin.
Hatori nods, entertained by the thought. “Yes, she did well. You’re raising quite a child. We’re all very impressed.”
Shigure grins. He still looks a little ill, but it’s comforting to see him smiling. “I’m glad you’re finally acknowledging my child-rearing prowess.”
“Hopefully she doesn’t take after you too much.”
“What a terrible thing to say to a single father.”
“You’re not single, you have Ayame.” Hatori jokes.
Shigure gives a quiet laugh, and Hatori chuckles with him, glad that they’re back on steady ground. Shigure is still eyeing Rin under the covers, watching her slowly breathe.
“I’m surprised she was able to dance tonight.” Shigure says quietly. “Did you see her limping?”
Hatori pauses, considering the new information. He had not seen her limping, but only because during the night whenever she wasn’t sitting or dancing, she was cradled in Shigure’s arms. “Is that why you were carrying her all night?”
Shigure shrugs. “She was in pain.” He says. “And I didn’t want nosy relatives bothering her with questions.”
“That was kind of you.” Hatori means it genuinely. Shigure is usually sweet but distant to the younger cousins, but ever since the revelation about Rin’s parents, Shigure had been much more tender with her.
“Mm.” Shigure seems distant, and Hatori has no doubt that his mind is somewhere in the depths of the main house. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
“You don’t want to go home?”
“My parents will want to know how things went. I don’t feel like dealing with the questions.” Shigure glances over at Rin. “And then I can take her home in the morning.”
Hatori nods slowly. Shigure interacting with Rin’s parents may not be the greatest idea, but he doesn’t mind them knowing that the other Jyuunishi are keeping an eye on her.
“You can stay with me.” He agrees.
Shigure nods, seems to deflate with exhaustion now that his sleeping arrangements have been figured out. He rubs at his face a final time and then stands, stretches, yawns. Wanders over to the bed in a move that’s almost casual and leans over to press a kiss to Rin’s hair and smooth her bangs back from her forehead.
Rin, who is so sensitive to being touched in her sleep, doesn’t even stir.
Satisfied, Shigure rights himself and gestures towards the door. “My dear.” He says to Hatori, grinning, shrugging off the intimacy of the previous moment.
Hatori gives him that privacy. He allows Shigure to hold the door open for him, and even laughs when Shigure makes a ridiculous gesture to accompany it. The door clicks shut behind them, and they laugh and joke as they wander down the halls to Hatori’s room. Shigure seems calmer now, more like himself. Maybe talking had leveled him out, or just spending time away from Akito. At the very least, he’s feeling better.
Later that night, Hatori lays in bed and stares at the ceiling. Next to him, Shigure tosses and turns in his sleep, begging for Akito over, and over, and over again.