Disclaimer: *sighs* Still not mine.

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"It's your move, Haa-san," the dog told the dragon lazily, flicking his gaze over the chessboard with mild interest while inhaling from a loosely-positioned cigarette.

Hatori narrowed his eyes at his cousin suspiciously, gripping his own cigarette tightly in his hand. After being absent for so long, why the sudden desire to play chess? They had before; it was true – but not since…

Not since the last time he had erased someone's memories.

Chess was something they did together, either to distract themselves or to discuss something with each other.

To reveal something…Hatori wondered what it was that Shigure wanted to reveal. He was exceptionally skilled at distracting himself; he wouldn't need the doctor for that.

So there must have been something on his mind…Hatori didn't have to try too hard to figure out what it was – or rather, who.

Akito. Kureno. Ren.

Then Shigure – suddenly packing and going away.

For five months, Hatori hadn't heard a word from him.

And he felt…angry about it, even now. Although that wasn't at all surprising – Shigure surely knew this, yet he had done nothing…nothing to explain his actions to the dragon.

Not that Hatori needed an explanation, but it might have helped in defusing his anger – which Shigure didn't seem particularly concerned about.

Not that he ever is, thought the doctor, a bit bitterly.

"Check," stated Hatori, in his usual monotone. Shigure sent one of his pieces, the knight, spiraling into Hatori's, knocking it over and placing it in jail with a small smirk of amusement.

Hatori arched an eyebrow delicately, without concern. "You know what that means, don't you?" he asked slowly, already certain of Shigure's answer.

The dog gave a quick, unnecessary nod to the side, then carefully arranged the pieces already in jail so that the pawns surrounded the others.

The dragon took one look at this bizarre behavior, then sighed and slid his rook over to the other side of the board. "Checkmate," he pronounced. He wondered why Shigure delayed saying what he had come to say…he had even used this game as a pretext (thinly veiled) for its discussion, yet Hatori didn't think he'd said a word about it the entire time they had played.

"Well played, Haa-san," his cousin congratulated him. Hatori narrowed his eyes at him, frowning slightly. He knew Shigure could easily win if he tried.

But the dog hadn't just let him win. No, there was most certainly a reason for it, a reason other than simply being a gracious opponent.

He knew Shigure too well to think otherwise.

He sighed again, knowing Shigure needed to be prompted to say what was on his mind – a push (rough if necessary) to get to the point. "You could have won, you know."

"I do." The dragon eyed the dog cagily, but his cousin wasn't looking at him. "But I don't want to win the game…I just want to keep my queen," said Shigure softly, gaze fixed on the aforementioned piece.

"That's not how you're supposed to play the game, Shigure." Hatori didn't have to say it, but he did –

Because he didn't know what else to say.

Shigure smiled at him. The dragon knew what it meant.

If I played like I was supposed to, my dear Ha'ri-nii, then not only would I not win the game, but I wouldn't win period…

I wouldn't get what I want most.

Hatori suddenly felt pained. How hard had it been on Shigure these past months, knowing that the person he loved was spending virtually every night with another?

But, alongside the doctor's pain, was a sharp spike in his levels of anger.

All you had to do was call, and I would have been right there. When have I ever not been there for you?

Shigure felt the changes in the dragon's battered heart, but his smirk only seemed to grow.

"Do you really care about how I play the game?"

Yes, I do. I care about everything you do. You know that.

Hatori closed his eyes and took a slow drag on his cigarette. "No," he answered stiffly, making Shigure laugh. If it had been anyone else, Hatori might have taken that as a good sign. But it wasn't – and so he knew not to mistake its dark, dry amusement for good natured humor.

"I told you before that you shouldn't lie to me, Haa-san. You know it doesn't work anyway."

Hatori's stomach lurched as he heard Shigure's comments – or rather, the unconcealed, hostile currents within them.

He didn't know how to respond, so he stayed silent. And for about a minute, so did Shigure.

Hatori knew why he was angry, but why was Shigure angry? He'd only noticed the animosity in those few sentences (and he was sure Shigure wasn't angry about his pitiful attempts to lie), but, knowing Shigure, it could have been there the whole time.

Why are you angry at me, cousin?

"You didn't do anything."

Hatori looked up quickly, startled. He wasn't sure whether Shigure was continuing their previous conversation or referring to something else until the dog added,

"You could have called me, you know."

There was no more enmity in his words – no resentment. There never really had been. The dog didn't hold it against him, this Hatori knew. But the dragon couldn't help feeling as if he'd disappointed Shigure somehow.

His cousin sounded…not sad, exactly. But…dispirited, maybe.

Hatori's crime was that he hadn't reached out. He immediately felt guilty for being angry at Shigure when his own crime had been so much worse.

Shigure had been hurting, and Hatori had been – he nearly choked on the irony – too blind to see it. He'd waited for the man in pain to come to him, although it would have been easier for the both of them if he'd simply gone himself.

Hatori felt his throat close up. He wanted to apologize, but what good would it do? It was only words – meager, overdue words. And despite how much importance Shigure placed on words, they wouldn't change anything. They wouldn't even reveal anything, since Shigure already knew what he wanted to say.

Shigure, seeing the dragon come to certain realizations, shot him a pitying look, making Hatori feel even worse. He should have been feeling sorry for Shigure – not the other way around. But people only knew the dog as much as he'd allow – the dragon knew that. He also knew that Shigure wasn't searching for sympathy…so he wouldn't leave much room for it in their conversation.

But…

"You just disappeared."

"What? Can't a knight disappear to see if the queen truly cares for him?"

Shigure was not playing now. His voice had taken on a wry, biting edge to it – but the harshness was not directed at Hatori. No –

It was directed at himself.

"But…no matter what…the king always wins."

The words came out in a strangled whisper, making Hatori freeze.

The dog's voice was hoarse. Had it been that way since he'd left them?

In these past five months…

Had he used his voice at all?

Hatori stared at his cousin, trying desperately to understand him – but his efforts were in vain, as always. No one could understand Shigure unless he let them…and there was only one person he would ever let in completely.

The same person who was the reason for his pain.

Akito. Surely she was the queen he spoke of. And if Shigure himself was the knight, then…

Hatori's heart turned to ice.

That meant that…the only other player in this game…the king…

Was Kureno.

"But he wins alone. The queen does all the work, and by the end of the game, she's exhausted."

Shigure's voice had risen a notch.

"And the other players hardly care at all."

They don't want to win either. They just want to survive the war.

"Haa-san…" The dog's eyes shimmered with baleful mirth. "Which piece do you think you would be?"

Hatori didn't want to play this game, didn't want to think about an answer. It hurt too much already…and it was too confusing. The dragon was still trying to digest Shigure's other sentences – to catch up to their meaning.

He rolled his eyes at his cousin. "Why? You're going to tell me which piece I am anyway." Shigure stuck his chin out and pouted, feigning offense.

"But I want to hear your opinion, my dear Ha'ri-nii!"

Hatori took another puff on his cigarette, ignoring the dog as he thought about it. "The rook," he replied steadily, after a moment.

Shigure's face broke out into a grin. "You are quite right, Haa-san!" he sang, with, Hatori saw dishearteningly, overwhelmingly perverse excitement. "You would be the darling little castle we have over here –" He gave a throaty chuckle as he picked up the piece in question and plopped it onto the dragon's side of the table. He looked so devastatingly gleeful that Hatori almost didn't catch his next few phrases, which the dog bestowed without pause.

"– a shelter for the self-conscious queen to hide behind. And the weak king, in turn, hides behind her." Shigure fixed the pieces to the stated arrangement as he continued, absorbed in his new display.

"So the question then becomes…how to get to them?"

Hatori's eyes widened, but Shigure went on unfazed. "The only piece that can, the elusive, slippery knight...has to disappear, has to slip in and out of the other pieces for a while – so that he can make the final move," the dog murmured, his eyes set on the black queen.

"This final move…" started Hatori, his comprehension struggling to keep up with Shigure's plans but rapidly advancing by the second. "Whom will it affect?"

Shigure grinned at him.

"Why, everyone – of course."

My, my. What ever did you expect from me, cousin?

You might as well tell me all of your moves.

Shigure might as well have spoken the words.

You don't tell me yours, objected Hatori, the corners of his mouth twitching with dread.

Do you really want to know what they are? questioned his cousin, deftly raising an eyebrow. He didn't wait for Hatori to return a gesture in response, instead brushing past it by offering up another of his own. I myself, on the other hand…want to be as prepared as possible.

Shigure's smile was gentle, but it was starting to scare Hatori.

"When do you plan to do this?" asked the dragon, a tad hesitantly. It almost felt as if he didn't have the right to ask such a question.

But that was ridiculous – too ridiculous of a notion for him to adhere to.

The dog paused before answering. "It may take some more time. However, if all is well…it will be fairly soon, I imagine."

Hatori merely looked at him, not even attempting to disguise his uneasiness. To do so would be pointless –

I can see right through to you, cousin.

He wasn't sure what frightened him more – Shigure's detached, genuine demeanor or the uncertainty of where that sentence had come from and who it had been meant for.

Fairly soon…to Shigure, that could mean anything from an hour up to a few years. A useless time frame for determining a more specific answer to the question Hatori had asked.

Hatori sighed. "Will you at least give me warning before it comes?"

Shigure paused again, then nodded solemnly.

"I will give you the most explicit warning, my dear friend."

It's coming.

Perhaps…this is a sign of a storm approaching, don't you think?

Can you not hear it?

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I…I actually kind of like this fic. And I really like Shigure/Hatori interaction, so I'd love to know how this went over with other people who do, too. I'm hoping to write more of it sometime, so please let me know if I did it right – or if there's something I should work on for next time!