Pride (def.): Love of self perverted to hatred and contempt for one's neighbor

"It is my opinion that increased security around Doctor Akari is the best plan."

Hirato sits, conscious of the pair of peach eyes boring holes into the side of his head. He blots out the other man with the corner of his glasses and keeps his gaze straight ahead at the faceless figures. He doesn't regret his decision; Akari has been in far too much danger lately, with Azana's attempt on his life and the ever present danger from Kafka. Hirato is not about to let him be killed, and if it's a choice between restricting his movements and death, the path he must choose is clear.

Akari's expression, when Hirato finally chances a glance in his direction, can only be described as furious. It's far from unusual for the captain to be at the receiving end of such fury, but it is rare for it to be of this magnitude. While his eyes are no longer fixed on Hirato, he glares at the floor with such anger that Hirato is somewhat concerned the room might cave in. He pushes aside all thoughts of an imminent death due to heavy tiles or, more likely, poisoned coffee, as Tokitatsu begins to speak.

"Agreed by all parties. Akari, you are no longer permitted to leave the Research Tower without an escort of at least three officers. Even while on the ships, you will have at least two guards accompanying you at all times. Fieldwork is restricted to areas which have been previously explored by a team from Circus. Missions are strictly prohibited unless cleared in advance by me. The likelihood of you being able to attend any missions at all is slim."

Hirato's chin rises slightly, previously unaware of precisely how restrictive Round Table planned to make Akari's movements. Akari is going to murder me. A glance from Tsukitachi, seated across from him, confirms his thoughts.

When Round Table Z adjourns, Hirato fully expects Akari to confront him, to grab his shirt, to yell at him. How dare you; why would you; or perhaps a simple what the hell.

The doctor says none of these. In fact, he says nothing at all, brushing past Hirato with rigid strides, back far too straight.

Akari never ceases to surprise him. But despite the man's icy attitude at the moment, Hirato knows it will melt soon and return to typical rage.

His surprise is increased tenfold when it doesn't.

No matter how often Hirato pesters him with texts, calls, or casual meetings, Akari remains cold. Actually, Hirato realizes eventually, cold is far from the right word. Akari is professional, treating Hirato as he would any other colleague. He refuses to react to Hirato's teasing, and it's frustrating to not be able to provoke him like usual.

Hirato still doesn't regret his decision. If nothing else, he's far too proud to admit that maybe, just maybe, he made a mistake in agreeing with Round Table's plans. After all, Akari has made it this far without any major injuries or near death experiences… But then again, Akari has never been in quite so much danger before.

With that as his justification, Hirato feels no guilt for the state of things.

He understands entirely when Akari refuses an invitation to tea with Tsukitachi, though he can't help but be a bit disappointed. Hirato would enjoy refusing too, but having the company of another adult (Yogi excluded for obvious reasons) outweighs any cons of drinking with Tsukitachi.

Hirato doesn't have to speak much, able to sip on his wine and listen to the other captain rant about his recent romantic endeavors.

"And you should have seen her! I swear, she could've given even you a run for your money in a one-on-one. Hotter than hell, and a fighter to boot!" Tsukitachi drawls, acting far more intoxicated than the reality.

Hirato smiles and nods slightly, making a noncommittal noise as he takes another drink.

"…You really ought to apologize to Akari."

That got Hirato's attention. "I have nothing to apologize for."

"Right. Akari may get irritated easily, but he doesn't get this angry over nothing," Tsukitachi says. "You know exactly what you have to apologize for."

"I've done nothing wrong. The increase in security is for his own protection," Hirato replies, eyes narrowing behind the lenses.

Tsukitachi stands suddenly and appears in front of Hirato, leaning down. "That pride of yours is pointless. I can hardly tell what you're proud of." Tsukitachi examines Hirato's passive face closely. "Maybe you're proud of nothing. Maybe you're just proud of your conviction." He straightens up and closes his eyes, waving his hand in circles in defeat. "You're going to make Akari-chan hate you."

"He already hates me. He has since the day we met. I can hardly do more damage," Hirato scoffs.

"Oh? Is that really true?" Tsukitachi lets the question hang unanswered and sets down his scotch. "I know my stories of romance are so riveting to you, but I've a large amount of unfinished paperwork that Jiki and Kiichi absolutely refuse to help with. You'll have to excuse me."

Hirato opens his mouth to protest, seeing as it was Tsukitachi who called for this meeting, but he finds himself ushered out rather unceremoniously, returning him to right back where he started. At least this time it's with an unfinished glass of wine and, less pleasantly, a threatening migraine.

Hirato doesn't sleep so well when Akari is so distant from him. It isn't due to a guilty conscience but a lack of another warm body in his bed. When he does finally drift off tonight, it's only for a few minutes before his slumber is interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

"Hirato-san. I'm here as you requested."

Akari. Requested? Hirato can't remember requesting any such thing, but he rises and straightens his shirt, grabbing his cane from beside the bed just in case. It proves unnecessary as he's greeted by Akari, flanked by two uncertain-looking guards. "Glad you could make it," Hirato says amiably.

Akari turns to the guards. "What did I tell you? He was expecting me. You already managed to make me late to our meeting. Now leave," he orders, and the soldiers exchange worried glances.

"You're worried about your positions and the doctor. But I assure you, he is quite safe in my care," Hirato chimes in, tugging Akari through the door and closing it on the guards. He turns questioning eyes on Akari. "What are you doing here?" Hirato sighs at Akari's lack of response and loosens the buttons of his shirt again. "You woke me up." He sits on the edge of the bed and watches the doctor closely.

Akari says nothing but takes his place in bed on the side that was once called his. "Why don't you turn out the light already?" he suggests irritably as he lies down.

Hirato blinks but does as he says before lying back down himself, cautious to keep a distance between them. "I'd ask once again what you're doing here, but…"

"Shut up." Silence stays heavy for a few minutes before Akari speaks again. "I'm sorry." His voice is muffled by the pillow but still audible, and Hirato can't quite figure out why it doesn't feel good to hear those words. "I shouldn't have overreacted. I'm just… so tired of being treated like a porcelain doll. I'm sick of being in this damned cage. But I know you only mean to protect me. I'm at least logical enough to figure that out."

Anything Hirato can think to say right now just feels like a lie on his tongue, so he stays silent. Instead he lets his arm curl around Akari's waist, relishing the familiar way the other man lies against him. Akari flips over so that he's facing Hirato and lets his head rest against his chest. It's warmer for both of them like that.

It was fear for your safety at first. However, when you wouldn't talk to me, it was more about pride. Hirato refuses to speak aloud. Even with Akari tucked against him like this, it's far too difficult to relinquish.

Sometimes pride is meant to be broken. But that's easier said than done.