Warnings: This is a yaoi fic, Shigure/Ayame and Shigure/Hatori. Uhh... it’ll make sense in the story, we swear. They’re still in high school, if that makes it any better...
Rating: NC-17. ::sigh::
Disclaimer: There is no excuse for this fic. Well, except for the standard “It was late and we were tired.” Oh, and they don’t belong to us. We should be so lucky.
A Weird FruBa Fic With No Name In Which We Throw Unlikely People Into Bed Together
Chapter One
Hatori was sitting at his desk as he nearly always was in the hours between school and dinner, with a book open on the desk in front of him. There was a notebook on one side, and he was diligently taking notes. This studious practice was brought to an abrupt halt (as it usually was) when Shigure waltzed into the room and flopped onto Hatori’s couch as if he belonged there.
“Will you help me kill Aya?” he asked cheerfully.
This not being an unusual question in the slightest, Hatori didn’t feel the need to give it any more attention than it deserved. Therefore he didn’t even look up from his book, merely automatically saying “No” before moving onto the next page.
“Why not?” Shigure asked calmly, prepared to batter away all the logic Hatori might spout against killing their friend and fellow Juunishi member.
Hatori considered it. If Shigure wanted to get into an actual debate on the subject, he might have to pay attention. “What did he do this time?” In truth, this promised to be good. Though Hatori felt the urge to kill Ayame at least once every other day, it took a lot more to ruffle Shigure.
“He just never. Shuts. Up,” Shigure stated, looking very put out.
“We already knew that,” Hatori said with a slight sigh, correcting an error he’d made in his notes. “You’ve dealt with it for eighteen years.”
“But not even in bed,” Shigure said, and put one hand to his head in an overflowing of melodrama. “It’s awful!”
Hatori nearly dropped his pen, and only managed to steady his hands at the last minute. After a long minute of silence, he said, “I did not need to know that, Shigure.”
Shigure grinned, unremorseful. “Yes you did. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to not even have a moment of blissful silence after . . .” His voice trailed off meaningfully.
Hatori, inwardly grateful that he did not blush easily, resisted the urge to toss his textbook at his friend. Though he was somehow not particularly surprised by the fact that Shigure and Ayame had slept together, it was certainly nothing he wanted to hear details on. “Shigure. I don’t want to know.”
“Ha-san is no funnnnnn,” Shigure moaned, flopping over so he was lying down on the sofa.
Hatori ignored him, going back to his notes. He was trying to keep his brain in its proper container, but a lot of the time, being friends with Ayame and Shigure wasn’t conducive to that. He didn’t always mind, though. It was better than no friends at all, and they understood him like normal people wouldn’t.
He was almost back into his studying groove when Shigure snatched the book away. “Why are you no fun?” he asked.
“What was I supposed to say to a comment like that?” Hatori asked, wavering between being amused and annoyed.
“I don’t know,” Shigure said, and started to flip through the book.
Hatori, knowing that Shigure never missed an opportunity to tease him about his studiousness, tried to grab it back. “Give me that.”
“No,” Shigure said, holding it out of reach with an angelic grin.
Hatori stopped and folded his arms over his chest, giving Shigure his patent exasperated look (usually reserved for Ayame, but it seemed he had been using it more and more on Shigure lately). “Why not?”
Shigure gave him a tiny smile. “You need to learn to relax.”
Hatori thought this was perhaps the thousandth time he’d heard Shigure say that. “And taking my book is going to accomplish this?” he asked skeptically.
“It might,” Shigure said. “You’ll have a harder time burying yourself in schoolwork.”
Hatori wanted to point out several things, among them that he had other schoolbooks, that he certainly got better grades than the other two, and that he would need those good grades to get into medical school. However, he said none of these things. Shigure had heard them all before, anyway. Instead, he just sighed.
“I mean, really,” Shigure said, “don’t you ever loosen up?”
“No,” Hatori said, and glared at him. It was true, and a well-known fact, one that Ayame and Shigure had been going to great lengths to change ever since their childhood. Then the question slipped out, before he could stop it. “Why did you . . .?”
“Why did I what?” Shigure asked, intending to make Hatori say it.
Hatori delivered the glare again, with an extra dose of annoyance. “Have sex with Ayame.”
Shigure sat up, dropping his usual comical facade and looking far more serious. “Because we’re both teenaged guys, with horribly limited choices, and we trust each other.” He paused, then added, “That and because we were so frustrated we were going to explode. I can’t figure out how you do it.”
Hatori had no interest in discussing his hormones. He raised an eyebrow at Shigure. “It’s a little thing called self-control, Shigure.”
Shigure looked skeptical. “And I ask you, why bother?”
Hatori couldn’t help but snort. “Well, if the alternative is sleeping with Ayame . . .”
Shigure laughed. “Well, okay, I can see that. But you know, there are other options.” He kept a perfectly straight face while delivering this rather extraordinary statement, in order to allow Hatori to take it any way he chose.
Hatori chose to ignore it, giving Shigure an annoyed look. “I still have difficulty believing you did it. And that you didn’t run away when you realized he wouldn’t shut up.”
“Can’t believe I did it or that I did it with Aya?” Shigure asked, looking like he might break into laughter at how repressed he considered Hatori. “And by the time I realized, it was a bit late.”
“Ayame,” Hatori clarified. “I mean . . . he’s Ayame.”
At this, Shigure did laugh. “It has some drawbacks, I’ll admit, but some definite plusses as well.”
Hatori, rather admirably, managed not to think about it. “Something else I don’t want to know.”
“Ha-san is being no fun again,” Shigure accused.
Hatori gave him a look that bordered on being dirty. “Are you that anxious to tell me all the dirty details?”
“Aw, come on,” Shigure whined. “You’re a teenaged guy like us. You can’t be that uninterested. I mean, really.”
“Whether or not I’m interested in general has no bearing on whether or not I’m interested in you and Ayame specifically,” Hatori pointed out.
“Okay, okay,” Shigure said. “But that whole general bit. You should find someone.” He nodded earnestly.
“Uh huh,” Hatori said skeptically.
“Well, you should,” Shigure said stubbornly.
“As much fun as you’re having trying to convince me, it isn’t going to work,” Hatori informed him.
“Why not?”
“Because men don’t interest me and women aren’t possible,” Hatori said, and wondered how soon he’d be able to get his book back.
“So you’re just going to be celibate for life?” Shigure asked, sounding horrified.
“It seems to be a fairly popular option among us,” Hatori said dryly. “There are no women among the Juunishi that are close to the right age for any of us.”
“I always thought you were crazy,” Shigure said, tossing his hands up in the air as he went back into melodrama-mode. “But now I know it.”
“Oh, and you?” Hatori asked, giving Shigure a skeptical look. “Are you going to keep sleeping with Ayame for the rest of your life?”
Shigure shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, I’m not particularly into guys, but let me tell you, it’s a lot easier than going it alone.”
Hatori wondered for a brief moment if that was true, before banishing it to the back of his mind. “I suppose I’ll have to take your word on it.”
Shigure flopped back over. “Ha-san never believes me . . .”
“It’s not as if I can find out myself,” Hatori snapped, and then wished he hadn’t said it. It was just giving Shigure an option to continue teasing him.
“Why not?” Shigure asked, predictably.
“I already told you,” Hatori said. “I’m not interested in men.”
“Ha-san has no sense of adventure,” Shigure mourned.
Hatori sighed. “Can we please stop this ridiculous discussion?”
“Oh, I suppose,” Shigure said, “but you’re being very boring.”
****
Shigure was settled at his desk with three of his favorite things: a pad of paper, a pen, and a hot mug of tea. His parents assumed he was studying or doing homework, but in truth he rarely did either of those things. Most of the time he spent working at all was writing.
He had been working for about an hour without pause when the door, which was already ajar, opened the rest of the way. “Ne, Shigure . . .?” Hatori poked his head in.
Shigure looked up, and took a drink of his now stone-cold tea. “Yeah?”
There was a pause where Hatori appeared to be floundering slightly. He finally walked the rest of the way in and shut the door. After a pause, he managed a rather lame question that had nothing to do with what he’d been intending to ask. “What are you working on?”
Shigure smiled brightly. “That depends on whether or not you’ll get on my case about slacking off,” he said, and gestured to the other chair in the room with his pen.
Hatori sat down, looking slightly awkward for some reason beyond Shigure’s comprehension. It certainly wasn’t as if they hadn’t been in each other’s bedrooms often enough, but Hatori was giving his bed a distinctly leery look. “I’m not your father,” he said at length. “I’m just curious.”
“In that case, I’m pretending to work on my homework while secretly writing,” Shigure told him, sounding pleased with himself.
Hatori rolled his eyes. “I know that,” he said. “I meant, what are you writing?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Shigure said, giving the notebook a considering look. “But I think it’s going to be a love story.”
Hatori snorted. “You’ve been into Ayame’s shoujo manga again,” he accused, sounding slightly amused. Their friend had a remarkable taste for them, getting addicted to series after series and toting the abused copies around with him. Shigure only read them when Ayame babbled about a particular series too much, and Hatori never read them at all.
Shigure looked slightly guilty at this accusation. “Well, yes, but what’s wrong with a love story?”
“I’ve just never been fond of them,” Hatori said with a shrug.
“Why not?” Shigure asked, sounding a bit too curious for Hatori’s taste.
“They’ve just never interested me,” Hatori said mildly.
Shigure paused while Hatori shifted, again looking uncomfortable. “What’s bugging you?” he asked, knowing he would never get an answer unless he came right out and asked. He gave Hatori one of his ‘I know you and you don’t fool me’ looks.
Still, Hatori had to try. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
Shigure smiled slightly. “Because you never come to talk to me unless there’s something specific you want to talk about,” he said. “And yet, all we’ve talked about so far has been my writing.”
“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t busy,” Hatori said, sounding slightly sullen and very defensive.
“I’m all yours, Ha-san,” Shigure said, putting the pen down and shoving the notebook aside. “And even if I was busy, I would make time to talk to you.” He gave his friend a somewhat disgusted look. “You should know that.”
Hatori mumbled something that may or may not have been thanks. There was a long pause before he spoke again, in which Shigure idly stirred his tea with his pinky finger. “All right, but you have to promise you won’t laugh.” He cast another glance at Shigure’s bed.
Shigure pondered for a minute, having a vague idea of what Hatori wanted to discuss. He cemented his poker face. “I promise.”
Hatori gave him a suspicious look, apparently not quite believing this. There was another long pause before he spoke again. “Did it help?” he finally asked, giving the bed another one of those looks.
“You have no idea,” Shigure said, making the leap in logic to spare Hatori’s sense of dignity.
“Really?” Hatori asked, quite grateful that Shigure had made the leap.
Shigure nodded. “I mean . . . I don’t have enough self-control to stay celibate the rest of my life, and God knows that Aya doesn’t either. This was sort of a no-strings-attached solution.” He paused. “By the way, we were in Aya’s room, not mine, so stop looking at my bed like it’s forever defiled.”
Hatori blushed very slightly, barely noticeable. “And it didn’t . . . change things between the two of you?”
Shigure considered it. “It did change things, but not in a bad way.”
“Well, how did it change things?”
“Let’s see . . . Aya uses me as furniture much more often now,” Shigure said. Hatori nodded slightly; he had noticed that their fellow Juunishi was draping himself all over Shigure whenever the opportunity presented itself. “But really, I think it’s easier to share things with him now. It’s also harder to hide things. But this isn’t like true love or anything. We aren’t dating. And we both know it.”
“It’s sex for the point of sex,” Hatori said flatly.
“Yeah,” Shigure agreed, hoping that this wasn’t the wrong answer.
“And that doesn’t bother you?” Hatori asked curiously.
“With him, no, it doesn’t,” Shigure said. “What bothers me is that it may be all I’ll ever get.”
“Well,” Hatori said, as if this explained everything, “that’s the curse.”
“Yeah.” Shigure sighed. “Sometimes I think it has very little to do with changing into an animal. The whole zodiac connection may as well be irrelevant to all but the cat.”
Hatori nodded, then also sighed. “At least your Juunishi form is better than mine.”
“Yeah.” In truth, both Shigure and Ayame felt quite bad for Hatori. They had agreed that out of all the forms to be cursed with (position of heirarchy in the zodiac notwithstanding), Hatori had the worst. He didn’t even have mobility when he changed. “I mean, the least the curse could do is give you the form of an adult dragon.”
Hatori smiled slightly. “That would be more fun, yes.”
“Aya would be less annoying, knowing you could eat him,” Shigure mused.
Hatori shook his head. “Ayame will never learn. Even if I could eat him, he still wouldn’t be quiet.”
“Maybe we should invest in duct tape,” Shigure said thoughtfully.
“He’d find a way out of it, I’m sure,” Hatori said, sounding gloomy.
Shigure slumped. “But we can dream.”
“Yes,” Hatori said softly. “We can always dream.”
Shigure wanted to offer a hug, and wasn’t sure if he’d get away with it. After a minute, he decided the hell with it. They were all deprived of enough physical affection as it was; he wasn’t about to deny his friend any when he wanted to supply it. He reached over and pulled Hatori into a gentle embrace.
Hatori was a bit surprised at this, but allowed it, tentatively wrapping his arms around Shigure’s shoulders and hugging back. It was a new experience for him, and he was somewhat surprised to find that he liked it. After a long minute, seeing that Shigure wasn’t going to let him go any time soon, he sighed and pulled away. “Do you ever think about falling in love?” he asked thoughtfully.
“I try not to,” Shigure said, keeping his voice light in counterpoint to the conversation.
“Yeah.” Hatori paused. “Me too.”
“I mean, I suppose it’s possible to find someone who doesn’t mind the animal thing,” Shigure said, a faint frown crossing his face. “But to find someone who doesn’t mind the lack of physical affection would be harder, I think. I know that I would mind the lack of physical affection.”
“Of course.” Hatori stared at his hands. “You’d think we would get used to it, and yet we never do. They can always go find someone else. But we can’t.”
“Well, we do have each other,” Shigure said with a sigh.
“For all the good that does us,” Hatori agreed.
“I try not to think of it that way,” Shigure said with a shrug. “I try to ask myself how bad it would be if we didn’t even have that.”
“I suppose,” Hatori said. “It probably can’t be coincidence that we’re always born in clumps, so there are three or four of us right around the same age.”
“No, it most likely isn’t,” Shigure said, leaning on Hatori. “I mean, something has to keep us going.”
“I hate this,” Hatori said abruptly.
“Me too,” Shigure said. “But if it wasn’t me, it would be someone else. And I just can’t bring myself to wish this on anyone.”
“I suppose not.”
“That didn’t help, did it,” Shigure asked dryly.
Hatori smiled slightly. “No, not in the slightest.”
Shigure smiled back. “All I can offer is friendship and sex. And I don’t really think that’s enough.” Having delivered this statement, he sat back to watch Hatori’s singularly amusing reaction to it.
Hatori turned pink, and was silent, hoping that Shigure would say something else. When he didn’t, he sweatdropped and managed “Uhm . . .”
Shigure grinned. “Okay, and I can embarrass you.”
“You’re a jerk, you know that?” Hatori asked, having recovered.
“Yes, but why this time?”
“You were deliberately baiting me,” Hatori accused.
“Well, yes, but the offer still stands,” Shigure said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. He figured that being matter-of-fact was the only way Hatori might ever agree to this. And if his friend didn’t loosen up soon, he was going to strangle him. Maybe with Ayame.
“You would . . .” Hatori frowned, then looked incredulous as it hit him. “Why?!”
“Why not?” Shigure countered, reasonably enough.
“I don’t know,” Hatori said. “Answer my question first.”
“Because there’s no reason I shouldn’t offer,” Shigure said, thinking that sleeping with Hatori would probably be far better than sleeping with Ayame. If only for the moment of silence. “And you need to loosen up.”
Hatori snorted. “And after Ayame, I’d be a welcome change?”
“Hell yes,” Shigure said.
“And here I thought you’d said there were some good points,” Hatori mused.
“Well, he is very flexible,” Shigure replied cheerfully.
Hatori looked like he might topple over and die. “Thanks for sharing.”
Shigure laughed. “Entirely welcome. Now you have to answer my question.”
“Which question?” Hatori asked, now visibly flustered.
“You asked me why, I asked you why not,” Shigure reminded him. “So. Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to,” Hatori said firmly.
Shigure searched his tone of voice for any indecision, and much to his annoyance, found none. This was taking far more work than he had wanted it to. “That’s a reason for you to refuse, not a reason for me to not ask,” he pointed out. “And I think you should think about it.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Yes. I do.” Shigure looked smug, though for what reason, Hatori had no idea.
Hatori sighed. “Do your homework, Shigure.”
“But Ha-san . . .”
“Or write your story. I don’t care.” Hatori stood, with the obvious intention of leaving.
“Why are you leaving?” Shigure asked, starting to pout. “Keep me company. You can motivate me through my math homework.”
Hatori gave him a long look. ‘Motivate me through’ had a tendency to mean ‘explain every problem’ with Shigure. He and math didn’t get along. After a long pause, he sighed and settled back into the chair.
Shigure grinned. “Arigatou, Ha-san.”
****
Shigure was spread out all over the living room, trying to sort through his papers and get them in some semblance of order when Hatori shuffled in. His friend collapsed into a chair without a word. Shigure gave him a worried look; he’d seemed awfully tired lately. “Hi,” he said, unsure of how to proceed. It had been a week since their last serious conversation, and Hatori hadn’t said anything about it since.
He became more worried when Hatori’s only answer was an incoherent mumble, and he rubbed his temples like he had a headache. “What?” he asked, taking a better look at him and trying to determine what was wrong.
“I’m tired,” Hatori replied, sounding cranky. “Do you still want my help killing Ayame?”
Shigure grinned slightly. “Sure. What’d he do?” There was a pause, then he added, “This time.”
Hatori raised an eyebrow at him. “You must have heard. The whole ‘deliver all the high school girls to me’ stunt.”
“Oh. That.” Shigure considered. “Yeah, I have no idea what he was thinking.”
“Neither do I, and now I’m stuck cleaning up his mess so he can keep being student president.” Hatori let out a muffled groan and flopped backwards, lying on the couch and staring up at the ceiling.
“Do you care that much?” Shigure asked curiously, already knowing what the answer would be. For someone so aloof, he knew that Hatori actually cared fiercely for both of them. “He might learn his lesson this time.”
“Ayame will never learn his lesson,” Hatori grumbled. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother.”
“Because you care about him,” Shigure said gently. “It’s in your nature.”
Hatori muttered something that sounded like ‘stupid nature.’ “Of course, now I’m going to wind up baby-sitting him for his entire life.”
“Okay, there I don’t know what to say,” Shigure admitted.
Hatori shrugged. “You could offer to help, but I suppose he doesn’t listen to you the way he does to me.”
“He doesn’t listen to me for beans,” Shigure agreed. “Shove him in the fridge for a while. He’ll be easier to deal with as a snake and a slow-moving one at that. You can keep him in a shoebox.”
Hatori couldn’t help but laugh at the image of good-natured Shigure trying to shove Ayame into the fridge. “It’s bad form to use the curse as a weapon, you know. Or as a form of control.”
“Yes, well, it’s also bad form to ‘have all the girls delivered to Aya’,” Shigure said, clearly amused. “I mean, what did he think he was going to do with them all?”
“I couldn’t help but wonder that myself,” Hatori admitted. “I asked him, but he just shrugged.”
“Sometimes I think he just doesn’t think at all,” Shigure said thoughtfully. “I mean, really, he should have just asked for all the boys to be delivered to him. That he could have worked with.”
Hatori frowned. “Actually, he may have just asked for anyone with sexual urges. I wasn’t there at the time, and all the teachers just assumed he meant girls, but knowing Ayame . . .”
“Knowing Ayame . . . he could have meant anything.” Shigure laughed. “Damn him anyway.”
Hatori couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re one to talk. You don’t have to clean up this mess.” He sat up, still rubbing at his temples as if his headache was still bothering him.
“True, but some day he’ll settle down with some nice boy,” Shigure said jokingly, reflecting that Ayame had the luck to be at least truly bi, whereas he merely turned to men for lack of a better option.
“Ayame? Settle down?” Hatori snorted. “That’s a laugh.”
“How are you going to magic this little problem away?” Shigure asked curiously, watching him wilt from weariness.
“The same way I magic all the problems away,” Hatori said bitterly. “By making everyone forget all about it. I can’t do it entirely, not this time, but I can at least reduce it to rumor status.”
Shigure shook his head, frowning. “But you shouldn’t. This isn’t a problem with our secrets. It’s a nice normal Aya did something stupid at school problem. No one’s caught us. If you don’t want to make them forget, don’t.” He knew better than anyone how much Hatori hated using his talent for hypnosis; he was the only one that had witnessed Hatori’s bout of self-hatred after the incident at Yuki’s party.
“I already did,” Hatori snapped. “Why do you think I’m so damned tired? I couldn’t see any other way to fix it and Ayame was so upset that he might get kicked out of office . . .” His voice trailed off.
Shigure sat next to him on the couch and pulled him into a hug. In retrospect, he seemed to be doing this a lot lately. “You can’t fix everything and it’s wrong for us to make you try,” he said, half to himself.
“Tell that to Ayame, not to me,” Hatori said, pulling away.
“I will,” Shigure said quietly.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter now,” Hatori said wearily.
“It still matters to you.”
“Yes, but this particular incident is over and done with and not worth worrying about.”
“Then what are you worried about?” Shigure asked.
Hatori shrugged. “I just hate it, that’s all. I have rotten luck. Not only do I turn into a seahorse, it’s my job to secure the family secret.”
“Well, I try as hard as I can not to let it out,” Shigure said. “And we all should have been paying more attention that one time with Yuki-kun.”
“Or we could just do what Akito advises and never make any friends,” Hatori said, his tone half-bitter, half-joking.
“Akito is crazy so he doesn’t count,” Shigure said offhandedly. “Or at least he shouldn’t.”
“Maybe so, but the theory still makes sense,” Hatori argued.
“Well, it would work if we could discount human nature,” Shigure said.
“Which, seemingly, he can.”
“You can’t call an uninformed opinion a good theory,” Shigure told him.
“I suppose not,” Hatori said, then sighed. “I should stop moping over this and go find something to do.”
“You try way too hard to be an adult,” Shigure said, grabbing Hatori by the shoulders as he started to get up and pulling him back down. “Relax.”
Hatori snorted. “Someone has to be an adult around here.”
“Let the adults be adults,” Shigure said in a soothing tone. “We’ll get our chance whether we like it or not.”
“And what do you suggest I do to be less of an adult?” Hatori asked skeptically.
“Worry and mope when you want to worry and mope,” Shigure advised. “Tell people to take care of their own problems. Or go to their parents if they need help with something big.”
“Yeah, I can just picture telling Ayame to take care of his own problems,” Hatori said dryly. “Can’t you imagine the ensuing chaos?”
Shigure winced.
“See? You can picture it.”
“Okayokay,” Shigure said. “Just don’t take the weight of the world on your shoulders til you have no choice.”
Hatori raised an eyebrow at him. “So you think the time will come when there won’t be a choice?”
“I think it might happen.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re the oldest of the Juunishi, and I don’t trust Akito.”
“It isn’t as if he’ll ever let us make decisions for him, you know,” Hatori reminded him.
“No, but he also won’t clean up his messes. And I think he’s very good at making them.”
Hatori sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“So my theory is to not be an adult now while I still have the chance,” Shigure said brightly, switching the topic back onto its original course.
“I’m not very good at it though,” Hatori said mournfully.
“Start by skipping a homework assignment,” Shigure said, nodding sagely. “I find that always makes me feel terribly irresponsible.”
“You skip homework all the time,” Hatori pointed out. “Anyway, then my grades would fall, and I’ll need the best I can get to get into medical school.”
Shigure wilted. “See, there you go being responsible again. Really, one homework assignment won’t pull your grades down significantly.”
“I suppose not, but . . .”
“But you want to be responsible?”
“Yeah.”
“I knew it.” Shigure considered for a long moment, then came up with what he considered the best idea ever since he’d started this game of trying to get Hatori to loosen up before one of them went insane. “Ever been drunk?”
“No,” Hatori said, at length.
“So fine,” Shigure said, repressing his urge to look gleeful. “Go do your homework. I’m getting you drunk this weekend.”
“No!” Hatori immediately protested.
“Yes!”
“Absolutely not!”
Shigure saw all his well-crafted plans going down the tubes. “Ha-san is no fuuuuun,” he whined.
As usual, Hatori couldn’t stand his whining. Either that, or was curious about getting drunk. “Oh, all right. But don’t invite Ayame.”
“Fair enough,” Shigure immediately agreed. He would have agreed to just about any condition Hatori wanted. “Aya is scary when he’s drunk anyway. He gets louder.”
“You’ve seen him drunk?” Hatori considered this. “Have you been drunk before?”
“Yes and yes.”
Hatori blinked. “Oh.”
“What?”
“I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve never tried to drag me in on it before,” Hatori said dryly.
“I haven’t been trying to loosen you up quite as forcefully before,” Shigure corrected.
“And what made you decide to now?” Hatori asked curiously.
“You seemed very unhappy,” Shigure said quietly.
“And this is a change?” Hatori asked skeptically.
“Well, you seemed a little more very unhappy than usual,” Shigure corrected. “It didn’t seem right to just sit back and do nothing.”
“I’m not sure getting me drunk is the method I would have chosen,” Hatori said.
“Well, what would you have chosen?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a vacation.” He sighed. “But I suppose there’s no getting away from the things that really bother me. Or any of us.”
Shigure shook his head and decided Hatori could use a bad joke to brighten our day. “No, they seem to dog our heels.”
Hatori groaned. “Shigure, honestly. That was terrible.”
“Yeah, well.” Shigure smiled. “You should always try to find the humor in life.”
****
“Having fun yet?” Shigure was a giggly drunk. And he giggled now, taking a minute to pour Hatori yet another drink with somewhat shaky hands. Though his friend had gotten off to a slow start, around six or seven he’d apparently realized what a wonderful thing alcohol was, and started going through it at such a rapid pace that Shigure had barely been able to keep up.
Hatori blinked at the glass as Shigure shoved it towards him, some of the liquid spilling over the side. “Aa . . . I think so,” he managed, accepting the glass and tossing the contents back.
“Only think so?” Shigure asked, frowning slightly. He gestured wildly, though to what purpose, he was unsure. “You have amzing . . . a magazine . . . a very good liquor tolerance.” He nodded sagely.
“I think it’s fun,” Hatori said, with a frown that mirrored Shigure’s, “but I’m not sure I’ve ever had fun ‘fore, so . . . so . . .” He shook his head slightly. “Forgot what I was going to say. More drink?” He held the cup out to Shigure, who had taken possession of the liquor bottle when Hatori had started trying to empty its contents in five minutes or less.
“Yep.” Shigure grinned broadly and poured him another cup. Or at least tried to. “Ha-san! You have to hold still!” He looked down at the wobbling glass. And the bottle he was holding wobbling just as badly. It made him feel slightly ill.
“Why?” Hatori blinked owlishly at him.
“’Cause I can’t aim!” Shigure gestured to the glass with the bottle. Something about it struck him as terribly funny and he dissolved into giggles, leaning on the bottle to stay upright. They had decided to get drunk in his room; his parents were a bit less upright and less apt to care.
“Aim my ass,” Hatori pronounced, taking the bottle away from him and gulping from it, nearly making Shigure fall over from the sudden lack of his leaning post.
“Good idea,” Shigure agreed, and held his hand out for it.
Hatori actually snarled at him, holding the bottle to his chest. “’smine.”