Wiser by Gaki

They sat together in silence, neither speaking a word, neither feeling the need to say anything. It was nearing winter again, the autumn season painting the colors of the leaves a beautiful golden orange and red. The air smelt fresher in the autumn some how. As if the chill of the wind cleansed it from the heat of the summer and the dust from the spring. It wasn't completely silent, however, for there was the constant sound of turning pages of a book as the darker haired one of the two flipped through the documents of a folder.

He was constantly working, this one. Ever moving to and fro, taking care of the members of his household. It wasn't something he hated or something he enjoyed doing. It was his duty as a doctor to take care of his patients and at one point or another, they were all his patients.

It was his duty and he was never one to ignore it.

Glancing over at his companion, he noticed that the other man had not said a single word for quite awhile. It might have seemed strange for someone like Ayame to be silent, to not always be talking about one thing or another. However, most people didn't know Ayame like he did. The snake, while sometimes would appear to be thoughtless in the things he did, didn't spend every waking moment babbling about nonsense. Even so, the things other people would consider as nonsense wouldn't have the same meaning for Ayame; for anything that he has to say currently would be important to him, important enough that he would want to share it with those he holds close.

Ayame is not a person to waste his breath on complete nonsense. Besides, it was nearing winter and Ayame's body never agreed with cold weather; the cold made him slower and more lethargic than usual.

"Tori-san…" The snake murmured from where he laid on his side on the floor, his long white hair spreading itself like thin streams of water upon the dark wood. He was wearing one of his many winter coats, the thick yet soft fur of the collar brushed against Ayame's cheek as he shifted to rest his head on his arm.

Hatori didn't stop sorting through his papers, but he answered back with a soft, "Mm?"

"So many people say that when you grow older, you become wiser." The snake started as he continued to gaze out into the small garden Hatori's office faced. He lowered his eyelids slightly as a breeze came by, catching the dull colored leaves on the ground and causing them to dance lightly, as if tiptoeing, across the stoned pathway before dying down again. "It seems almost as if I've become wiser and more foolish at the same time."

Glancing at his cousin, Hatori pulled his glasses off and placed it onto his table. He said nothing, however, knowing that the other man had more to say.

Continue on, Ayame did, with his voice unusually subdued. "I find myself thinking regretful thoughts. Thoughts like, 'If I'd tried harder.' Or 'I should have reached out then.' I'm regretting things I didn't do and things I did do but shouldn't have. Does that make me wiser now that I see my mistakes?"

He didn't let Hatori have a say, however, continuing on. "… The more I think about that, the more I think it just makes me more aware of it." Ayame smiled slightly, though Hatori couldn't see. "People don't become wiser when they grow older, just more aware of their mistakes. Only… it's too late to be aware of those things."

Still saying nothing, Hatori pushed himself from his seat, reaching inside his coat pocket for a cigarette as he stood behind Ayame to smoke. He knew that at the moment he didn't need to say anything to the other man, only to listen. Only when Ayame has finished speaking, would he say anything or do anything. Most of the time, what Ayame needed wasn't a doctor to see how well he was or to worry over his health. No, the snake needed a friend more than he needed a doctor.

Gazing at the shadow that was Hatori's on the wall that stood a few feet from where he was currently resting, Ayame closed his eyes slightly. "Tori-san said for me to think before I do things, but I do. I try to picture Yuki's reaction to whatever I have to tell him. I try to imagine what he will say, what his expression will be like." He chuckled softly, almost wistfully as he spoke on. "Sometimes my imagination runs away with me and I picture Yuki smiling warmly at me in my mind and I think, 'Maybe he'll really smile at this.' But it never turns out that way. I've become more foolish because of that because I keep picturing that smile and wanting to make it real."

Closing his eyes fully now as he curled into himself, Ayame pressed his fist against his lips as he spoke on, as if telling his cousin his most desperate wish.

"I've lost my right to want to be a part of his life so it's selfish of me, now, to want to storm back into it. I know he doesn't understand why I want to be a part of it. I know he's probably used to having an older brother but at the same time not have one. I don't know how to be an older brother. I lost my chance when it was given to me but it's never too late to try and get that chance back, is it, Tori-san? Honestly, I really want to learn how to be an older brother. I want to watch my younger sibling grow up and feel proud of them. I don't have any memories of his childhood and I regret that and if I give up and let the chance of having memories of him now slip away, I'll have nothing of him."

Gazing down at Ayame for a few moments, Hatori moved away, opening a cabinet to pull out two thick blankets before closing it again. Crossing the room quietly, he unfolded them and gently placed the blankets over Ayame's slender form. The other man made no movement, not to acknowledge the blankets or to pull them more around his body. He continued to lie upon the floor, his hair still spread out from underneath him and his fist pressed lightly against his lips. For a moment, Hatori was reminded of a snake curling around itself to keep safe from the cold.

"… Tori-san," Ayame muttered, sounding sleepy. "Yuki… has given me more than I have ever given to him. He acknowledges me when I didn't do even that much for him when he was younger. Even if he won't fully accept me… having him know that I'm around still is enough."

There was a moment of pause and Hatori wondered for a moment if Ayame had fallen asleep.

"Tori-san…?"

Exhaling a small cloud of smoke, Hatori murmured. "Mm?"

Ayame's voice grew softer still as sleep crept its way throughout his body. "Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can pretend everything is okay again. But… I don't want that to happen only when my eyes… are…"

Leaving his sentence unfinished, Ayame gave in to sleep, his breathing evening out as he slept within the presence of the one person he admired most. Hatori remained standing for awhile, gazing out at the garden, letting his dark eyes move from stone to stone before he glanced up at the sky. The clouds, while not entirely dark, were a light grey in color. The weather would continue to be cold tomorrow or perhaps colder. There might even be a chance of rain. Mentally noting to himself to remind Ayame to dress warmer in the upcoming days when he woke up, Hatori seated himself behind his slumbering cousin.

Bringing his cigarette once more to his lips, he turned his eyes towards Ayame's face.

"You've become wiser, Ayame." He said softly.

But the snake was already fast asleep.