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Oh, how life could be so complicated, so full of hustle and bustle at every possible turn - and at the same time, be utterly empty, devoid of feeling behind the smallest of actions. How the sounds could be so different, but all play through his head in a muffled, monotonous way, the man now standing just outside the simple house could never truly tell.

Hatori wasn't sure why he was outside, especially without a coat - honestly, he just didn't feel like being inside anymore. Maybe it was because the space was too cramped, or because the air was not so crisp as it was out in the open. Then again, it was probably due to the fact that being indoors was almost all he ever did nowadays.

Treating patients, it seemed, was all he had time to do in his busy schedule; yes, his job as a doctor, with the exception of eating and sleeping (not in the proper amount, certainly, but he still counted them), was all that occupied him now. If he had been younger and more reckless with his thought patterns, Hatori would have classified the rhythmic situation -- or "rut", as some people would describe it -- his life was in as absolutely boring.

But to that point, he hadn't used that word in a long time - really, had he ever used it at all? What with his early childhood having been spent happily, and the later years having been constantly occupied with the antics of his two best friends, he hadn't considered it to be "boring" at all. He chuckled as he recalled that, at some points, he had wished it would be less exciting than it was.

Hatori could see his breath wisping out in front of him, curling up like a chilly plume of smoke. He hadn't realized it before, but now, he could feel his limbs shivering; it was cold outside, as he had thought before, but the effect it had on him was delayed by his trip down memory lane. It wasn't cold enough to send him indoors, though - not just yet.

He would wait, just a little longer; even though there was a layer of snow on the ground, it didn't bother him. This freedom was not one commonly allowed in his life, and he was going to savor it.

Ryou had never observed the snow drifts, huge and imposing, gathered hastily to one side of the street in order to avoid road hazards.

For the first time in his life, the leopard watched the melting, grey snow, rivulets of melting water flowing freely, making sure to take note of every clod of grit, where the snow heaps was mashed into its fellows, where water had trickled loosely, carving damp channels and... To not many people, was a snowdrift a wonder, a work of art that had to be held in the highest respect.

Having run out of things to observe, the now-jacket clad boy poked idly at the heap of snow and it collapsed in on itself. He scowled, flicking away his irritation. It was unlike him to be observing idiotic things such as snow drifts; his way of wasting time was training, hard and intense, or jogging up and down the beach for several hours on end.

He could understand why he was hesitating at every snowdrift, that was one thing that remained fixed in his life – the desire not to return to his caged apartment. But poking at snowdrifts, the fragile heaps of snow to prevent that from happening, was completely beneath him.

Abruptly turning away from the rest of the clumps of snow, lined up and patiently waiting, the leopard-headed boy set off at a leisurely jog, hands shoved into his pockets more for comfort than anything else. He could recall the scenes from his childhood, he and his father wandering amiably through the twisting pathways that the forest wrought.

In all honesty, Ryou was glad that no-one had ever looked up at the cliff forest, for they would’ve seen the leopard, standing there and overlooking the world with a sullen expression. The air was fresh and crisp up there, unlike the silenced, choking atmosphere of the main estate. The leopard inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet scent of-

He pushed the word away, refusing to reach out for it. There would never be such a thing as freedom; at least, not for him. Determined to accept his fate, the boy cast his gaze over the part he normally never looked, the glazed rooftops of the main estate. A sleek head of black hair caught the leopard’s interest, a man standing calmly and taking in the scenery, the curve of his back pressed into the metal of the outside wall.

[center]Outside?[/center]

That certainly was unusual, reflected Ryou, his forehead furrowing just the slightest bit. He couldn’t tell who the man was, but he didn’t seem a stranger to the Sohma Main Estate. As if in answer to the leopard’s question, the man angled his face back so his handsome features caught the sun’s light, the rays of light bouncing off the crisp shirt and tie beneath. The teenager inhaled sharply.

…Hatori?!? What the hell-?

Making up his mind, the leopard scanned the cliff face for any possible landings and found one. A sheet of rock stretched out just ahead of him, the anomaly in the cliff face jutting out just over the wall of the main estate. Suppressing a laugh, Ryou roughly sized the face of the ‘landing strip’ up, doing a quick mental calculation on his impact.

Nonetheless, a few bumps and knocks wouldn’t harm him, and the thrill was worth the spill. Ryou point-blank refused to scramble messily down the face of sheer, imposing rock – the cliff, after all, was like his brother.

Letting impulsivity, take him over, the boy leapt.

The boy leapt. Those words were not enough to describe how it felt, the wind tearing through you, threatening to shred you into a thousand pieces destined to dance in the wind forever. ‘The boy leapt’ was not enough to describe the sudden rush of adrenalin racing through him, the feeling that leaping off a cliff face was the very reason Ryou existed. Those insignificant three words would never describe the utter fear that ‘the boy’ would cease to exist if he missed the rocky landing…if he missed…

Ryou’s legs jerked out beneath him, the landing imperfect as his torso crashed into the rocks and grit with tremendous impact, his torso snaking forward, Ryou wildly scrabbling for a hand-hold…

Something jerked him to a halt, snagged on a toothy point of rock, and, startled by his unexpected recovery, the leopard glanced around. The white hood of his jacket had caught around the edge of a rock, unwillingly to let him fall. Relief swept through the boy, rendering his limbs incapable of movement, and for a moment, the boy lay there, savoring the taste.

Is that how it feels? The thrill? The knowledge that anything can happen, rather than a forced life? Is that…how it feels? Freedom?

Feeling returned to his senses, bringing with it the raw feeling of being scraped along the length of a flint knife. Ryou scrambled to all fours, like he was destined to do, propping himself up along the length of rock. Come to think of it, he’d never dared to do that before – had something in him changed?

[center]Akane[/center]

Heat scorched the boy and he clamped his jaw short furiously. Even so, a dozen images of the clueless girl and her brilliant smile flooded him. He’d only met her a few days ago, and yet, the mere memory of her was haunting.

Is it because after your mommy left, you feel any girl that you talk to is special?

Akito’s icy voice, snide and slithering brought him back to reality. Her words had always been cruel, biting, digging down into the bare essence of Ryou, and the leopard winced, although he thought he had grown used to the usual jibes. Akito knew nothing, he reminded himself heatedly, nothing of Akane, and he would keep it that way.

A sharp sting to the side of his head reminded Ryou why he’d risked his life- although, thought the boy wryly, after all the cruelties in life he’d been put through, death wouldn’t be so bad after all. He slipped cautiously from the ledge, glad to find his feet dangling only a few inches away from the ground, and stalked across the flattened grass.

Hatori was still there, his eyes alert albeit distant, his chin propped up on one knee. Ryou had never seen him like that, and sorely wished he’d brought his video camera with him…nonetheless, the boy approached, all the more wary.

A few moments passed, Ryou not daring to utter a word, simply watching the tatsu, apparently lost in thought. Hatori would surely report him to Akito, stolidly watching the boy being let loose, raging and searching for the familiar strap of leather collar.

Did nothing ever go on behind those dark, troubled eyes, or was Hatori merely an enchanted block of obsidian and a faithful servant?

Frustrated, Ryou moved in front of the tatsu impulsively, letting Hatori survey him slowly for a moment. The tatsu’s senses seemed more dulled than ever, as he licked his lips for a moment, searching for a phrase to recommend the boy. Trying to sound spontaneous, Ryou cut in.

“Huh? Hatori? What’re you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be attending to Akito or something? They’ll be missing you inside.”

He was unable to hold the snide bitterness from his voice, recalling those times that Hatori had forcefully strapped his leather collar tightly around the boy’s neck, biting into his flesh and restraining the unstoppable leopard from emerging.

Hatori’s expression had changed from one of incredulity to shock…and fear. He seemed to half risen, thought the leopard, surveying him coldly, but his suspicions were confirmed as one of Hatori’s hands raised, as if by itself, to hang quivering in the air, the man barely choking out a sentence.

Ryou’s hands rose, like they had done for years now, to clutch at whatever circled his neck. He half expected to feel the soft sensation of the blood-red bandana he had tied securely there before. As his fingers darted upwards, he was already anticipating the frayed cotton ends…

His fingers met, instead, Ryou’s own, warm, breathing skin.

It was a universal cue, the rage that was constantly bubbling within the boy surging to blister the surface of Ryou’s conscience, and the leopard cried out, keeling over backwards. The pain, as always, was intense. He could feel the inbuilt, sharp claws working furiously to pierce his skin, and the bloodlust, the eagerness to draw blood and survey it, fascinated, was overwhelming.

This was the side that had always been detested by anything that moved; the impassive murderer.

No-one had viewed him as human, save for…save for…It was becoming a struggle to think clearly now, and through a haze of blood, Ryou could dimly see Hatori’s aghast features. He was sure that the inner war he was waging was all too evident on his features – a fresh wave of ire battering his senses, and yet…and yet…

Can one word somehow control the transformation from human to leopard?

“Akane…”

Genes overpowered the boy, and Ryou was lost to himself, Akane’s face swimming on the haze of his conscience before it quietly dissipated.

((Random-san, view my profile in ‘Accepted Characters’. It’ll help ^-^))

((Not meaning to be rude or anything, but there are several instances of slight powergaming in your post. Just a few of Hatori's actions that you are assuming for me...

and

I just thought I should remind you that powergaming/powerplaying like that is against the rules. Since it's not big, though, it shouldn't be a problem. I'll get around to modifying this with IC once I have time.))