Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ After Snow ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket.

 

 

After Snow

 

Hatori Sohma sat in his office looking over the last pieces of patient paperwork he had to accomplish for the day. It was a quiet winter afternoon, snow falling quietly on the family estate, blanketing the world in a curtain of white. There were blessed few emergencies, and his phone had not rung for over an hour. An outwardly unremarkable day.

 

He checked his watch and allowed a rare smile to cross his otherwise stoic face. It was Wednesday, the day she came to visit.

 

It had started quite innocently. Hatori had finally worked himself to exhaustion, becoming quite ill. Haru had found him collapsed over his desk after his staff had left, and had to call his older cousins to carry his dead weight back to his residence. He was sick enough that constant care was needed, and Tohru had cheerfully agreed to stay by his side and care for him. After all, she was the best nursemaid the Sohma's had to offer, aside from Hatori himself. At first, he didn't realize who was staying by his bedside, only feeling cool touches on his fevered forehead, replacing warming cloths with cool ones, a small, quiet voice singing soft songs, soothing his fevered brain. Much later he realized how long she had sat there, her tired smile still sunny and bright when he opened his eyes for the first time two days later.

 

Since then, in order to keep him from working himself to death, she said, she visited once a week to cook him dinner and give him an excuse to rest from the wearying work of caring for the Sohma family. It was hard for Hatori to admit to himself that he looked forward to each visit. He knew how she made time for him, setting aside her other activities for their weekly appointment.

 

School was over now, graduation past, and Torhu worked full time for the building she'd been employed at in high school. Wednesday was one of her nights off, and she happily shared it with the tall, slender doctor. She was still unsure of where her plans would take her, but Shigure would not let her leave the small house that had become her home and family over the last several years. Instead, he continued their arrangement where she cooked and cleaned for him, and received much needed housing in return.

 

Hatori figured that Shigure would push her towards college eventually, even if it were some kind of trade work like hospitality or culinary school. She would be an amazing at any such endeavor, and would add to any of the properties she inhabited and maintained.

 

A light knock on his office door brought him out of his thoughts. She stood there, all sunny smiles and wide eyes, greeting him in the dim evening. A warm blue coat with white furry accents enveloped her tiny form, and a bag of groceries were held between her clasped hands.

 

“Good evening, Hatori-san.”

 

She always spoke to everyone so respectfully. He liked to think there was a special note in her voice when she said his name.

 

“Aren't you supposed to be finished by now?” she said with another patient smile.

 

He nodded, closed his patient folder, and stood to hang up his doctor's coat for the night.

 

They walked together in companionable silence to his small house on the Sohma grounds. Their footsteps crunched on the snowflakes along the path, breath making full clouds in the cold evening. It was just a few steps away from the clinic to the house, but it was nice to have company nonetheless. Tohru never entered his dwelling without his presence, even though he had insisted several times that she could.

 

Tohru moved on to the kitchen as soon as she removed her shoes.

 

“I have something special for Hatori-san tonight,” she said. “I have a new stew recipe for keeping warm in the winter months.”

 

He smiled.

 

“It sounds perfect,” he said in his low voice.

 

“I certainly hope Hatori-san likes it. It was something the girls were talking about at work, and I thought of Hatori-san as soon as I heard of it.”

 

He sat down at his small dining table, watching as she busily moved about the kitchen, humming to herself as she went. They didn't talk much while she cooked, but the companionship was really what he was looking for.

 

She had to work one week, one Wednesday a month or so ago. He didn't realize how much he depended on her periodic visits to provide a bastion against his ongoing solitary existence. The one day he got to be cared for, instead of caring for others. It put him out of sorts, much to his surprise. He even went to visit Shigure's house, putting up with the dog's horrible antics in order to be near her. It helped for a little while, but he drank in her presence when he had her to himself the next week.

 

He pulled out a book and began to read, not normally giving himself the opportunity to do so. Loosening his tie slightly, he looked up as she put his customary tea in front of him.

 

“Do you need anything else before dinner?” she asked. “I hope this will tide you over.”

 

“No, Tohru-kun, I will be fine.”

 

“Are you sure? You need to keep up your strength.” She said, a little concern reaching her voice and eyes.

 

“It will be fine,” he said. “Your presence is sustenance enough.”

 

She smiled then, brighter than any smile he'd seen from her before. It seemed to reach all the way from the roots of her hair to the tip of her toes. She spun happily back towards the kitchen and began to push the kitchen from the shelves to set the table.

 

He basked in the glow of that smile for a long moment, noting how it contrasted to the chilly snow outside. She truly was a ray of sunshine in his otherwise gray existence.

 

It was not long before hot steaming dishes of stew were set before him, complete with rice and more tea. Her meals were always wonderfully traditional, beautifully prepared, yet so simple and satisfying to the palette. He knew she made extra so he would have food for the next several days. She cared for him so well.

 

They passed the time speaking quietly of what was going on at her work and of patients he could discuss. She asked after the Sohma cousins who lived on the compounds, and he inquired after Yuki and Kyou. They also talked about little nothings, just comfortable conversation.

 

At the end of dinner, Hatori stood to help her clean up as he always did. She tried to shoo him away as she did every Wednesday, but he was firm, insisting on carrying dishes into the kitchen and drying as she washed them. It was really an excuse to be in her presence, but he only admitted that to himself when he lay in bed at night, trying to fall asleep.

 

Despite her warm companionship, despite the weekly thaw to his exterior, he still felt a wall of coldness around himself. He let her in, just a little, because there was no choice. Tohru melted all the snow that was around his heart simply by being here, by caring for him so effortlessly. It took quite a bit of work to build up his icy walls again when she left. It was excruciating in how painful it was to wall himself up, but exquisite in how wonderful it felt to relax in her warmth.

 

If only she didn't have to leave.

 

Hatori shook himself a little, trying to redirect from that dangerous line of thought. It wouldn't do to hope for what couldn't be, at least in her presence. Tohru must have noticed his movement, as she looked to him over the sudsy water, concern written across her face.

 

“Hatori-san?”

 

He smiled just a bit.

 

“It's nothing.”

 

`And everying,' he added mentally.

 

She smiled in response, turning back to the sink. A few more quiet moments passed between them.

 

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell Hatori-san. My schedule is changing at work.”

 

He stilled, a tendril of worry worming through his gut.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yes,” she replied. “I'll be working during the day now, during the regular work week.”

 

“Ah,” he said cautiously. “How fortunate for you.”

 

“Um, but it will mean I won't be able to come for the next few Wednesdays.” She looked down at the dishwater, disappointment coloring her tone.

 

Hatori felt chilled. He barely made it through one week, what was a few going to do to him?

 

“I . . . see,” he responded, voice cold to hide the disappointment.

 

Tohru seemed to catch the change in his voice, and turned to him, clasped hands dripping in pink rubber gloves. He turned to meet her anguished visage.

 

“I'm so sorry. I know Hatori-san is very good at taking care of things, but I worry when I can't come on Wednesdays.” She looked down to her toes, voice small. “And I miss coming here very much.” She met his eyes again, trying to sound cheerful again. “But with my new hours, I could come much more, if Hatori-san wants.”

 

Hatori turned to face her, heart swelling at her words. He cleared his throat before speaking, voice cautious. He did not want to chase away his sun. He almost faltered when his gray eyes met her brown pools.

 

“You could come as many days as you like, Tohru.”

 

She inhaled a little, and he felt snared by the intensity of hope in her eyes.

 

“I can?”

 

He unconsciously stepped closer to her, drawn to her warmth.

 

“Yes. I enjoy every visit.”

 

She blushed beautifully, pink delicately staining her cheeks. Yet, she did not look away, and leaned a little closer.

 

“Then, could I come every night?”

 

Hatori was stunned, shock written clearly across his face. That was the last thing he expected from the shy girl. His brain refused to process what she could mean, what he hoped she meant.

 

His silence must have unnerved her, because she looked down again, blush deepening.

 

“I'm s-sorry, Hatori-san, I shouldn't have-”

 

His hand unconsciously reached out to lift her chin, gently brining her eyes to met his again. He leaned closer, bending his tall form, drawn to her like a magnet. Before he came to his senses, she rose to her toes, and their lips met.

 

Dear gods. She tasted like spring.

 

Tohru's lips, soft as rose petals, parted gently under his. He dipped a gentle tongue into her mouth, sighing at her shy responses. Her warmth poured through him, melting away the last pieces of ice around his heart. He was almost lost, but anchored by her fresh taste, gentle warmth and clean smell.

 

They pulled away at the same time, holding still a few inches apart. His eyes searched hers for a response. The cold pulled around his senses as she remained still.

 

“Tohru?” he said finally, breaking the silence.

 

She took a deep breath, and seriously met his gaze.

 

“I'll need more recipes, so Hatori-san doesn't get tired of my cooking.”

 

He relaxed in relief, and drew one long-fingered hand along her cheek.

 

“I will never tire of anything you do.”

 

She smiled then, a smile uniquely his, and spring came to his heart.