Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Beginnings ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 7 )

Beginnings

carpetfibers

Chapter 7

She felt as if a huge weight was resting on her chest, preventing her from moving, and each breath rattled through her. She tried opening her eyes but they refused to obey. She tried moving her hand, but the only response was a slight tingling in her fingers. Why couldn't she move? And where was she?

The last thing Tohru remembered was talking to Kyou and Yuki, and then after that everything went black. In the back of her mind, a faint buzz of noise trickled through. She focused in on it and slowly bit and pieces of words came out from the noise. There were people talking…Yuki and Kyou and someone else, someone older.

"…tests have come back."

"Is she alright?"

"What's wrong with her?"

"Its not entirely conclusive, however, it looks like she has a rare form of anemia."

"Anemia?"

"She's probably had it for a few years now, but has never really been under conditions that it would affect her too much. Has she been under any heavy stress lately?"

"We did move recently, and she's been studying and working hard…"

"How about family problems? Has she been having problems with your parents?"

"Our parents?"

"Well, yes. You are her brothers, correct?"

"No, Tohru is a friend…a close friend."

"I see."

"Doctor…will she be alright?"

"Yes. She just needs some fluids as well as glucose and iron supplements. However, I want to keep her under observation for another 12 hours or so."

"Listen…I have to get to the school. I'll go by the pharmacy and get the prescriptions and stop by the library and tell Sanzo-san about Tohru."

"Do whatever you want, just make sure the house is warm when I bring her home tonight. Leave the car."

"I wasn't planning on taking it!"

"Then it shouldn't be a problem."

"Please keep your voices down."

"I'm going."

The voices faded out again as Tohru slipped back under a wave of weakness. Yuki stared at her fingers as the doctor continued speaking to him. So Tohru had anemia…and from how the doctor described it, her particular case was special because it wasn't just iron deficiency but something in her red blood cells that didn't handle glucose well causing build ups in her oxygen supply. It was manageable but serious.

Just hours before, when Tohru had collapsed on the floor and her chest had stopped moving, Yuki had felt as if it was his own lungs that refused to move. They had no phone, no means of calling for help, and never had Yuki felt so useless, so powerless. Awkwardly, he had mimicked the movements of Hatori, cupping her jaw open and breathing into her lungs his own breath. Then with his hands he pumped, up and down, in hopes that her heart would kick in, that she'd start to regain color. He lost count of how many times he repeated the process. His tears had blinded him, and the only sound in the room had been his panted breaths and behind it a deadly silence.

And finally, when he had thought that he would collapse as well, his asthma driving him to gasping for air, she had sucked in a breath, but still so deathly pale. He had run into the idiot cat outside on his way to the car, Tohru in his arms. No arguments had passed on the way to the clinic, and it wasn't until just seconds ago that the animosity had risen.

Her fingers moved again, just barely. Was she waking?

"Sagara-san? I need you to pay attention."

The doctor's impatient voice tore Yuki from his thoughts. "I'm sorry, sensei, I was thinking about what must have caused Tohru to collapse like she did."

The doctor's stern expression softened a bit, and his tone warmed. "I understand. I'm still surprised that neither her parents nor yours for that matter came by the hospital. Were you able to get hold of them?"

"Not exactly."

Yuki had never been a good liar, and the doctor caught on to it right away.

"So they don't know."

"Her parents are both dead, and mine, well, I haven't seen them since birth. Him- his mother died when he was five."

Whatever sympathy the doctor may have been feeling died. He glanced sharply at Tohru who lay still on her hospital bed and then pointedly at Yuki.

"So you and 'your friend' there live alone with this girl?" the doctor asked sharply.

"Yes, we do. And I fail to see how it's your business," Yuki replied curtly.

"It becomes my business when I see that she's been in here before for broken ribs. Add that to the fact that she's only in her present state because of undue stress and a poor diet, then I have every reason to make it my business. Besides, just how do you plan on paying for this? Aside from the bills you've already incurred, there's also the future payments for her prescription. This is not inexpensive medicine."

"Like I said, I fail to see how it's your business. I suggest you concentrate your energies on getting Tohru better, and leave my personal affairs alone." Yuki stared down the young doctor coldly, calling upon years of having to deal with the antics of his cousins.

The doctor wilted under Yuki's steady glare, taking his queue to leave.

"I'll be back shortly. You can stay here for now."

Yuki didn't bother answering; he just returned to watching Tohru. He felt so guilty. Tohru looked so small on the hospital bed. Her pale face matched perfectly with the white sheets, and her hair stood out like a stain on a wedding gown. Her thin fingers seemed even smaller when held against his own. The light tan of his skin from spending hours in the sun looked so dark against her own.

When she had finally taken a breath on her own, Yuki had known how he felt about her, truly and horribly. It was like being able to speak all your life, but not having known it, until finally you utter a word. The revelation had shocked him even more than her beginning to breath. He loved her. He loved her completely, and terribly. He had never had such a mixture of emotions trouble his heart; he was all at once happy and sad. He hated that one day she'd have to choose between himself and that damn cat. Stupid, ignorant thing- he was always causing problems, making Tohru cry- he was always in the way!

But he had seen how Kyou watched her, looked at her, softened his voice when she was near, tried to do nice things. He had seen and heard it all; heard how he called out her name in his sleep. Yuki knew that the cat loved Tohru as much as he did. But what killed him was that he had also seen how Tohru reacted in turn.

Sure she was nice to everyone, always thinking of others, but she reserved those genuine smiles for himself and the cat. He didn't want to share any of that with anyone! He wanted Tohru to brush her hair only for him to see; he wanted her to cook only to make him smile; he wanted her to feel free enough to sing only around him; he was utterly and completely selfish, but he knew that he couldn't share her with anyone. Not with her friends, not with Shigure, not with any of his family, and especially not with that cat.

Damn Kyou, damn him. God, when she had chased after him in the rain just those few months ago, her shoes lost to the mud, her cheeks stained not only from the rain but from her tears- the one thing he wanted most was for her stay with him. But she had chased after Kyou, and begged him to come back. He had been forgotten.

Yuki tightened his grip around her thin fingers. He had to let her know- had to tell her the truth. Even if she couldn't return his feelings now, at least she should know. Then she wouldn't ever leave. She wouldn't be able to, knowing she'd hurt him.

He stared down at her still face, memorizing each tiny line and curve. Her dark lashes, and slender nose. Her tiny freckles and soft lips. More than anything, he wanted to touch those lips of hers, to taste her, to know her. The steady throb of the heart monitor reminded him of where he was, and how she got there.

If only he hadn't insisted on fighting; if only he hadn't brought it up. It had been weeks since he and Kyou had last fought, and it was because of him that she was in the hospital. Guilt overwhelmed him, and he pressed his forehead against her clasped hand.

"Forgive me, Tohru. I promise to not be so selfish. Just get better. I'll do anything, if you'll only get better."

As if she had heard his words, her finger twitched just barely, the slight pressure only lightly felt on Yuki's own. But it was enough.

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Almost five centimeters of snow covered the seldom walked paths of the Sohma mansion- the white layers resting unbroken except for a few small footprints. Steam rose into the air from the heated ponds, the fog creating a stark contrast with the crisp clearness of the blue winter sky. Not a cloud graced the sky and despite the coldness, the sun seemed brighter and closer than in the summer months. To most anyone, such a morning would have brought thoughts of good fortune, but for the tall doctor, his thoughts rested on the harbingers from the days past.

Akito had started calling him in for "daily meetings" starting almost two weeks ago. The summons would come, he'd arrive and spend close to two hours in silence with the younger boy. Then Akito would rise, grab his chin between his pale fingers, and ask the same question every time.

"Have you found them?"

When Hatori would answer the usual negative, Akito would drop his chin and cross back to his futon, signaling the end of the meeting. For two weeks it had gone on like that, each meeting racking heavily on his nerves. For two weeks the same actions every time, that is until last night.

The question had been asked, but instead of returning to his futon, Akito had added a request.

"Bring Momiji here tomorrow."

What Akito might want with the smaller boy, Hatori didn't know. But he was worried- no, he was frightened. Akito's lack of violence had been laying heavily on his long list of fears. The sickly boy was not the kind to brood or fester; he planned, schemed, and acted. These past days of quiet had been a preamble for some monument of design, and now that Akito was calling in one of his characters for the play, Hatori feared the worst.

He leaned back against one of the wood beams that lined the patio. Cradled between his fingers was a cup of tea with no sugar, two spoonfuls of lukewarm milk, and a quarter lemon squeezed. It was the same cup everyday, prepared in the same way, all p's and q's. That was how he liked things; each proper ingredient carefully measured and weighed. Nothing was wasted, and only the necessary was used. There was nothing left over to consider, nothing left to ponder on. Everything and everyone was made to be quick, simple, and uncomplicated. He never had to fear the unexpected, because he knew each detail of what to expect. There were no surprises, only inevitability.

But that was before Tohru had come. She had woken up the dead spirit in him, the part of his soul that had been tucked away, either from pain or regret, but probably mostly from guilt. The girl had tendered every part of herself to their hearts, himself included, and without even realizing it, he had begun to change. He had even been able to put away Kana's picture. He continued to love her, but she didn't need to be a warning anymore to the do's and don'ts of living out life.

"Winter promises the coming of spring, eh, Tohru-kun?"

"Hatori?"

Momiji's youthful voice interrupted his reverie. The doctor turned around and found the blond boy staring at him, concern in his brown eyes. Hatori's eyes softened; Momiji had grown so adult in expression in the last six months that it was often hard to connect his childish ways with his budding adolescence. Momiji looked more and more like his mother every day, but his face was gaining the masculinity of his father. One would never think after talking to Momiji that he had a mother who erased away the memory of her son, or a father who asked Momiji to let her do it. The blond boy had a quiet strength, a spirit that people like Akito would love to hurt, to see completely destroyed.

"Hatori?"

Hatori shook himself from his thoughts. He'd just have to see that Akito didn't hurt the boy. There had already been enough of that in his life.

"Come, Momiji; Akito's waiting for you."

He placed a thin hand on the younger boy's shoulder, steering him gently towards the double doors that held back their family's god and tormentor. Momiji entered willingly, a little apprehensive, but comfortable enough. As usual, Akito was sprawled out on the ground, his back to the doors, the one thin bar of sunlight allowed in cutting through his shadow like a scythe.

Hatori settled himself on the ground, his eyes trained on the ground. Momiji did the same, just a yard closer. For what felt like hours, they sat there in silence, the only sign of life coming from the occasional flicker from the bar of light. Bird passing through it, or maybe leaves falling- either way, the slow staccato was driving his mind into a stupor. It wasn't unpleasant, just very mellow.

"Do you miss her?" Akito rose slowly from the ground, straightening his shoulders as he moved. "Do you miss her, Momiji?"

The semi-lax atmosphere that had absorbed him just minutes ago, faded into nothingness as Momiji considered Akito's words. Of course he missed her. She was his Tohru. She was the only person he could hug openly and didn't mind his changing. She was the first outside of the family to accept him, curse and all. And now she had been gone for so long…

Of course he did.

"Hai, hai, Akito-san. I miss her." He beamed towards the pale boy who stood blocking the bar of light.

"Tell me about her. Tell me everything you know about her. I want to know; I want to know it all."

Akito walked to the window, resting one thin almost translucent hand at its edge. The line of light now stood disfigured, the outline of fingers crossing Momiji's face, cutting his face into two sides- one dark, one light. Hatori continued his watch from the back of the room, listening and waiting.

Momiji took a deep breath and then began.

"Tohru's always so kind."

'I think everyone needs to be loved. And that there's always something good to be found- in people, in everything. Its like what mother used to say; nothing happens without a reason. That's why I'm so glad I met you! You are special to me, and everyday passes with me wanting to know you better.'

"She tries to do the best for everyone else without any thought for herself."

'I know I should have saved that money for tuition, but I wanted to do something special for you. You've all been so kind to me, helping me, and dealing with how weak I am at times. I don't have any special talents, so this is my way of saying thank you. I guess it might have been foolish, but please, it made me happy to see you who I love so much, happy.'

"She thinks only the best of people."

'I don't know him at all, but I can't help but feel sad when I see how lonely he must be. To constantly be surrounded by the thoughts and expectation of your future death- it must be horrible. I want to understand him better. I might not be able to help him, but I want to try. I'm clumsy and stupid, but I want to try. I know he's good, I just know it. He just needs the chance.'

"But she's also very sad. Even though she tried to hide it, behind her smiles, she was sad."

'I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I don't know why I'm crying- I'm pretty stupid, I know. Its probably just allergies; my eyes water at times. But I saw this painting; a watercolor almost entirely in blue. It was of a lake. I recognized it. We used to have one hanging in the hallway between our rooms. And I don't know why, but the tears came. Mother wouldn't be very proud of me like this, would she?'

"Tell me why she was sad. Why did she hide it?" Akito's voice interrupted the interlude, bringing out a stagnant pause, before Momiji finally replied.

"I suppose it was because of her mother. Tohru and her mother were very close, and over two years ago, she died in a car crash. Tohru blames herself, I think. So she takes everything on her shoulders thinking it will some how prevent future hurts. I felt close to her because of that."

'She's very beautiful, Momiji! So beautiful…'

'Do I look like her?'

'Just like her!'

I wish she recognized me. I wish that somehow she'd remember who I am, and remember to love me. I wish she knew she was my mother.

'But I think she'd be very proud of you, Momiji.'

'What?'

'I know my mother would have loved you. She would have been proud of you. Just like your mother would be if…'

'Don't cry, Tohru!'

'I'm sorry, Momiji, I wish I could do something.'

'Just be Tohru!'

'Mother says that…used to say that.'

'Tohru…'

"Is that all, then?"

The silence had drawn on for too long, and now the quiet stillness that had been apparent in Akito's manner had begun to turn its rounds. The time for the other side had reached an arrival. However subliminal it might have been, Momiji prepared for it. The verbal assaults could be easily assuaged, but the physical blows were not to be defended. Ever. It was a right held by the god figure- by Akito. Although-

"Is that all you can say about her?"

"No! There's more, but it makes no difference. Words make Tohru seem normal, average, but she's not. She cares about everyone, and sincerely tries to help everyone; she's very strong! But she also can cry. She loves to cook and in the kitchen she's so graceful. Her friends all love her and are very protective. She touches everyone she meets. Tohru's amazing, Akito-san. She's amazing!"

His last word echoed momentarily- and then snatched away by the slam of the window shutter. Now Momiji's face was all shadows and dark lines.

"Amazing? What's so amazing about her…she should never have been a threat. She's just a clumsy, babbling idiot. But she's stolen you all away from me. But I have the one thing she can't give any of you- life! You owe me your lives. She can wax poetic, and talk about her dear mother every minute of the day and it wouldn't save you. And she's human like anyone else. Given the chance to get ahead, she'd betray you and anyone else. Surely you realize this. Surely, you the clever, mischievous rabbit, would know this."

Each finished sentence brought Akito closer to Momiji. It was like a moth being drawn to light- the proverbial will of night versus day. The moon sought to destroy the source of its illumination, and this was no different. Just like the snake, the rabbit had been a spring of inexplicable dislike. It was in the boy's character to seek out brightness in the storm clouds, and half filled glasses amidst empty bottles. But until now, this dislike, this ill will, had been stifled.

"You speak about how amazing this girl is- yet she left you didn't she? She left you all alone, Momiji…now you only have me. There's no one else. Who accepted you when your own mother begged to have you removed from her thoughts and memory? Who was it that gave you a home? Who was that has never left you? Who is that is dying for you? Tell me, Momiji. Who is it?"

Akito kneeled before Momiji's bowed face, his tone almost sympathetic. There was so much danger there…and Hatori felt the anxiety build.

"You, Akito-san," the blond boy whispered, his voice trembling.

"Yes, its me. Surely you need no other. Don't you agree, Momiji?" The lukewarm sound of his words made the hairs on the back of Hatori's neck rise. What was coming? What was coming?

"Yes, Akito-san," he whispered once again.

"So you must agree- you don't need that girl anymore, do you?" An idea was forming in the back of Hatori's mind. Slow but steady- the idea was taking shape. But it couldn't be possible! Akito would never request that…

"Answer me, Momiji," Akio commanded, placing his hands on the rabbit's shoulders. He leaned forward until his breath stirred the fine hairs on Momiji's brow. "Answer me."

"I still need her, Akito-san. I love Tohru, and I miss-" his words were cut off by the sharp crack of a fist against his cheek. Akito stood now, his hand raised to strike again.

"Pathetic! Next you'll cry and drivel on about your Tohru. You're pathetic." He struck out again. A thin red line formed from the corner of Momiji's mouth, the youthful skin stained.

"But you'll be stronger soon, Momiji. Its my job to take care of you. Soon you'll thank me." The anger was just as quickly dropped and now Akito had taken Momiji's bruised face between his hands, the movement both tender and soft. "Hatori, come here please. I have need of you."

Hatori rose and crossed the small distance, each step feeling as if it were thousands of miles long. The idea had grown into a full concept, the vile thing birthing more suspicions. Akito could be cruel, but such a thing was unthinkable. Especially to one within the jyuunishi. Surely, he wouldn't do such a thing. Surely not.

"Hatori, I have a request of you. But I remind you that if you refuse, it will not be you who will suffer, but this boy here. Keep that in mind, and weigh your decision carefully."

Hatori kneeled beside Akito, his one visible eye looking over the boy held captive in such weak hands. Why was it that such a weak vulnerable person held such power over them, over him?

"Erase everything about her from his memory. I want her to be gone. Completely."

"No Hatori! No! Akito-san, you can't!" Momiji tried pulling himself free from Akito's grip, but as it had shown in the past, his thin hands held more strength than thought possible. "Please, no…"

Hatori felt the realization agree with the fear that had crept upon his shoulders. This was his plan. He wanted to erase Tohru from their lives, and bring them back to him. He was like a petulant child- but a child with power. If Hatori refused him now, not only would Momiji suffer- and suffer badly he would; Akito had no scruples when it came to having his way- but whatever chances he'd have of keeping Akito from finding Yuki and Kyou would be gone completely. But still…he looked directly into Momiji's eyes. Up until now, the boy hadn't shown any fear. Now they were livid with terror. It was the same look that had filled his eyes when Hatori had gone to erase his mother's memories. And yet again, he'd be forced to remove a person and that person's touch from a memory.

Wordlessly, he placed his hand to Momiji's eyes. Wet lashes and hot skin met his touch, and in seconds a bright light engulfed them both. The light dimmed and darkness resumed its dominance. Momiji had collapsed to the ground; it'd be hours before he would awake, and when he did- he'd remember nothing. Tohru was gone from his memory. Erased.

"You may go now." Akito had resumed his position at the front of the room, lying out on his futon, and his back to the door. "Take him with you."

Without a reply, Hatori scooped Momiji into his arms and left the room, closing the door solidly. A swift wind swept through the forecastle and into the open patio. The breeze smelled of the sea and of winter. Overhead, the once completely clear sky had been overrun by gray clouds. As if waiting for their arrival, the cloud's purpose became evident. Tiny dots of white cascaded earthwards, the heaven sent appearance lost in the past minutes' history.

'It melts into spring, I think.'

He looked down into the face of the boy in his arms. Too much hurt, far too much hurt resided in those features. It was wrong; it was unfair. It was all the many of thousands of things that came with their curse. And as usual, he had been useless to help. As usual he had been unable to prevent another he cared about from getting hurt. If Momiji ever learned of what had been stolen- he would never forgive him.

Even now, the small part of Momiji that would always remember, that would always know, must hate him.

'It melts into spring; I'm positive!'

"Will even this snow reach spring? Tohru, can even you answer that. Will it ever?"

No one answered. Not that he particularly expected anyone to, but-

But.

'It melts into spring, Hatori. Into Spring!'

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