Chapter Text
Facing a mad woman was not THAT intimidating. In Erin's line of work, the whims of an unhinged psychopath did not trigger danger bells further than DEFCON 3. A plethora of worse things awaited, out there; yōkai, spirits, ghosts and mad wizards performing magic they did not master. And curses.
The Sōhma curse, for one, was stronger than Akito. More insidious, too; it had destroyed families, parents and children with deadly accuracy, plunging an full dynasty into chaos. Akito was just the tip of the iceberg. Both victim and perpetrator, the young woman had been completely crushed by the weight of her family's expectations, as well as the unnatural curse that bound her to the zodiacs.
Akito was pacing back and forth, tearing her hair out, eyes bloodshot. Neither man nor woman, trapped in her own curse. Her agitation only grew as she spat curses and muttered like a madwoman, her masculine attire sliding off her shoulder. Nothing made much sense in her speech, but a sentence came, over and over again.
What comes of snow when it melts ?
Erin latched upon the notion, sensing that Akito's energy became almost unbearably hectic. That woman pulsed like a Qasar on the verge of explosion; how she remained alive was a mystery. Actually, if not for Hatori's dedicated care, she would have crumbled already.
Hatori… the memory of a youngster, stark naked, eyes wide on the riverbank caused Erin's heart to warm. To think he'd grown to become such an admirable man… admirable, and broken. Her soul ached for him; the doctor had not been spared either, she now knew how his tragic love for Kana had brought him on the brink of despair. Would his heart ever unthaw ?
Every zodiac had suffered, one way or another, from the family madness.
This must end.
Ankle throbbing, Erin pulled on the ropes that kept her securely tied to the pillar. You'd think that, in the 21st century, kidnapping people and securing them to posters would be out of fashion. But the half irish woman's job wasn't as peaceful as some. As a hafu – a half Japanese, half irish woman – she'd always been gifted with the sense of the surnatural. Hence her job in the international paranormal brigade, overlooked by a few loonies and higher ups.
Her every day life was filled with ghosts and magical creatures no one should ever know about. Things that hid underneath beds and rattled closet doors, ate people in dark forests, and sacrificed others in the name of obscure gods. Folly, at its highest degree, wasn't as terrifying as those ethereal creatures summoned in the wee hours of the night.
But madness could still be lethal. And Akito hated Erin's guts for being friendly with HER men. Especially Hatori, with whom she'd always had a special connection. With the sight, she'd been able to see the zodiac forms looming over them all like harbingers of misery. But it was her heart that had ached the most when meeting them properly. Yuki's misery, Kyo's hopelessness, Shigure's detachement, Ayame's flight and Hatori's despair.
All of them, struggling to get free of those unnatural bounds that kept them under the heel of a madwoman. The door slid open, a decrepit fusuma that felt as mouldy at the spirits of the poor people trapped in this maze of buildings. The disgusting old woman that had been her jailer bowed. Her face was thin, the grey hair complimenting the kimono uniform that sausaged her into a mold of obediance.
"Akito-sama, the doctor is here, as requested."
Erin hated that old hag. How people could actually perpetuate the severe abuse that went on in the whole Sōhma clan was a mystery. Children had been harassed, broken into pieces, and never reconstructed in this place. Adults, too, were kept on a tight leash by the grace of the curse. The supranatural task force worker swallowed her anger; it would end soon.
Come on, Fuyuki, time to show up.
Erin hoped her colleague had located her, because instinct told her that things were going to unfold. And she might very well end up dead if she couldn't free herself from those blasted bonds. Her wrists chaffed against the rope, and that stupid twisted ankle would not hold her weight properly. Multiple injuries, courtesy of the accident that had brought her in their grasp, still littered her skin, including a cracked rib that forced her to take shallow breaths.
But Erin was far from being out of commission. If only she could find a way out of that stupid rope !
"What comes of snow when it melts ?"
Akito's voice was clear, this time. Much clearer than the hazy gaze she pinned Erin with. Behind her stood a man in a white blouse, looking utterly devastated. His lips moved, pronouncing her name without a sound. Erin tried to not greet him with a smile, but her eyes conveyed her affection for the man who had dragged her into this mess.
Hatori Sōhma, the unwilling participant and enforcer of Akito's crazy rules. The dragon, turned into a seahorse. Cursed doctor, forced to plough his way through minds when it went again all his principles.
His blue eyes suddenly widened, too late to warn her of the incoming blow. A sharp sting at her cheek called Erin back to the crazy woman that called herself the head of the Sōhma family.
"Answer me, you bitch !"
Another slap stung her skin; she brushed the pain away, if only to save Hatori from crying out her name in despair. His deep gaze screamed in her name, but he was rooted to the spot, unable to go against Akito, bound by obedience that overcame his will.
That blasted curse !
Erin's attention returned to Akito, if only to protect Hatori.
"I'm sorry, what was that ?"
" What comes of snow ", she woman sneered, her face coming inches from her own. "… when it melts?"
Another zen principle ? A trick question ? Erin roamed her mind before the answer clicked in her mind. "Water under the bridge", she retorted with a smirk.
15 years earlier.
Water under the bridge. This was how, actually, he'd met her. Hatori had been careless. So fucking careless. As he was washed down the river from the outlet of the lake, he could hear Ayame's and Shigure's cries upstream.
Stupid snake, he had to throw me into freezing water !
Twelve years old Hatori was helpless to navigate the rushing currents. Heart racing, the little seahorse was swept away like a ragdoll, scarcely avoiding sharp rocks. Even at his age, the shock would kill him.
Father is going to be furious against Ayame.
He felt his body temperature plummet until his conscience was fading into nothingness. Soon, the feeling of being swallowed by a tumbler became nothing more than a mild inconvenience in the background.
Ironic, how I'll end up drowning when if I return to my original form.
When darkness overtook him, Hatori was ready to give up on life. After all, this family was all kind of messed up. Better reincarnate somewhere else. Perhaps as a true animal, this time. But it was not to be, for he was awakened by a gentle voice.
"Oh !"
Hatori blinked, still in animal form. Warmth permeated all around him, calling him back to consciousness. A pair of incredible eyes were boring holes into him, blue to green, like the beaches of Okinawa. He'd never seen such a colour – his were deeper, like a still lake - but they were was warm as the hands that held him.
"How extraordinary", a feminine voice mumbled. "A seahorse, in a river."
Feeling his strength return, Hatori could not warn the stranger that had extracted him from the river that his transformation was imminent. So when the puff of smoke came and she squeaked in surprise, he gathered himself on the riverbank, stark naked. Instinct caused him to curl on himself and bury buried his head in his hands.
"Wait !", the voice said. Footsteps echoed on the river bank, light and bouncing.
Then a large towel landed over his shoulders, small hands resting upon them as she rubbed his back for added warmth. Paralysed by her touch, Hatori huddled under the oversized cloth; he probably looked like a drowned rat, hair splattered to his face, shaking like a leaf in the autumn breeze.
"There, are you alright ?"
Stunned, Hatori risked a peek over the edge of the towel. A redhead girl watched him, probably ten or eleven years old, large turquoise eyes scanning him with worry. WORRY, not wariness. A seahorse just landed in her hands, then turned into a boy, and that girl didn't bat an eyelash.
"I, uh, yes, thank you."
His teenager's voice rose and fell awkwardly, breaking in the middle. Way to make a first impression ! The girl just smiled invitingly, freckles illuminated by the sun. The strength, the warmth of that expression almost brought him to tears. Who looked upon him with such genuine curiosity ?
A Hafu, perhaps. Her Japanese was flawless, but she looked like a fairy, or a Kitsune, rather than a schoolmate. Just a tiny slip of a girl, untouched by the unfairness of blemished skin, hormones and teenage angst.
"What happened to you?", she asked, plopping on the riverbank with a curious expression. He remarked the lack of distance between them; at arm's length.
How did she know he'd been in trouble ? How, in the world, did he land in her hands ? The stone bridge that marked the edge of the Sōhma domain stood proud, a hundred feet upstream. He must have drifted aside in the dead currents of the shoreline. What could he possibly tell her, really ?
"I…"
In the distance, a set of voices he recognised echoed.
"Haa-chan !"
"'Tori-san !"
Saved by a set of morons ! Ayame's panic sounded real, and he planned to kick their asses thoroughly for putting him in such danger. And not only him… The girl stood, eyes squinting to spot her friends over the bridge.
"Hatori-san ? Is that your name ? Are you a water yōkai ?"
Her curiosity knew no bounds, and he almost laughed at the yōkai suggestion. If only she had not guessed his name, damnit ! Those dolts, really !
Teeth clenching, he stood tall. There was no avoiding this. Hatori swiftly shed the towel with the mortification of a teenager that went through a growth spurt before he could fill out his silhouette. Why did it have to be a girl ? She would probably inwardly laugh at his gangly limbs and awkward posture. Or worse, be scarred for life for seeing him naked.
"You need to run", he instructed, twisting aside to keep his private parts out of sight.
"Why ? Can't I meet your friends ?"
Curiosity killed the cat; knowledge of the Sōhma curse was dangerous. Panic rose in this throat for this slip of a girl who ran headless into unknown dangers.
"No !", he retorted, diving in the woods to hide his naked form. "It's dangerous."
"Why ?"
"Just run !"
The girl's eyes widened, and she gave him a long, mournful look WITHOUT peeking down. Hatori hated himself for severing a connection that felt so promising, but he ought to protect people from the Sōhma clan. He couldn't let the girl get hurt for his friend's carelessness.
Seeing that she hesitated still, he turned to walk away. The urgency was too pressing to take into consideration that he was flashing his buttocks. But the girl was stubborn, and the sound of her following footsteps decided him to take extreme measures.
"If they find you, they'll erase your memories !", he shouted.
His father would, at any rate. He did not look back, long limbs putting as much distance between himself and the girl as he could. But before he could disappear entirely, her voice floated up to him.
"I’m Erin. I hope I'll see you again someday."
Like a promise; Hatori's heart summersaulted. As he passed the bridge, he felt something snap in his mind. Water buoyed merrily in the wake of the pillars, unburdened by the weight of his existence.
Would they meet again, someday, when water has passed under the bridge?
Water under the bridge.
A gasp behind Akito told Erin the message had come across; Hatori had not forgotten. But the family head was unimpressed. Another blow came her way, this time with a silk cord that stung like a whip. Blood splattered against her collarbone. She fought not to wince.
When that bitch makes a mistake, she'd done for !