Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Resolutions ❯ Chapter One, in which a cafe is introduced and a fiance met ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own fruits baskets.

Resolutions

by: carpetfibers

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Chapter 1: In which a Café is introduced and a Fiancé met

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She had come to love her morning walks. The sidewalks smelt of crushed honeysuckle, their damp surfaces swallowing her footsteps as she crossed them. In between the cracks, dandelions stuffed their stubborn heads out toward the sun. She tried to avoid their snowy blossoms as she stepped, her shadow spread out into the street ahead of her. These morning walks had become something of a ritual in the past months since she first opened her shop, her café.

Saori didn't like her walking alone, but Tohru insisted on these mornings. The crisp air cleared her mind and sometimes, just sometimes, she'd remember something. Oh, they were little things: the color of a sweater, or a flash of someone's name. Once she had even remembered a phone number. It had led to dead end, but still. It had been something. And so she walked the freshly washed sidewalks daily, smelling the honeysuckle scented soap, and trailing her hands along the lamp posts.

Her café was something of joy, and a good bit of pride. She had bought it with the inheritance from her mother- that's where the money came from according to the trustee. She felt a strange detachment when she thought of the woman in the picture. She honestly didn't see too much of a resemblance between the light haired woman and herself. Maybe she had been adopted...since she couldn't remember, she couldn't honestly say.

The specialists she had gone to see had all diagnosed her with retrograde amnesia. Apparently it meant that she had undergone some great trauma that created a block in her memory. Even under hypnosis she hadn't been able to recall anything before a year ago. She had been handed off to in between houses for amnesia patients, helping them get on with their lives. That was where she had met her roommate and best friend, Saori Atsumo. Well, not specifically at the in between house, but rather in the gardens. Saori had been planting strawberries in the house's extensive gardens. Tohru had stumbled upon her- literally stumbled on her! Something about the strawberries had triggered one of her black outs, and when she awoke, Saori had been there. The two had started talking and within two weeks, Tohru had moved out of the house and into Saori's apartment.

Not too soon after that, she bought the café. Chiyo's, she had called it. She wasn't sure where the name came from, but it had somehow seemed perfect for the little building. It had taken a month to fix everything up: replacing the windows to repainting the walls and putting in new tile. And it would have taken even longer, if not for Saori's brother, Genji.

Tohru leaned her head against the cafe's glass door, closing her eyes for a moment. Genji had truly brought a ray of sunlight into her life. Not that she was complaining, but even with Saori's companionship, there had been something missing, something finite. And while she still felt that pang of missing emotion on occasion, Genji had made her smile again. But-

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It made no sense to over analyze things. Besides, there were things to be done, food to be cooked! It was the highlight of her life, and as lame as that might seem, it was nonetheless true. When her usual customers would come in and smile as they ate one of her pastries or rice balls, it made her smile even more than Genji's warm laughter did.

Now, whether that was a good thing remained to be seen. As it was, the only time Tohru didn't feel a dull pressure from absent yet not gone memories was when her hands made their way across the kitchen counters, slicing into vegetables, cupping balls of rice, and rolling out layers of dough. She felt at peace in the kitchen, whether it was moving from the warmth of the ovens to the coolness of the walk in freezer, or trading the tomatoes she was pressing for a block of cheese to be shredded; the kitchen had become a kind of haven for her, and like during her morning strolls, sometimes things would come to her. Again, they weren't much, but still.

"Still," she said to her reflection. It was something; and she pushed her way inside. Another day of work- but still pleasure!- was waiting.

* * * * * *

The walls were bare but for an enormous map whose many streets were marked off in a series of colors- red, blue, and yellow. There was a pattern to the marking, if anyone cared to find it. Aside from starting in the northeast corner and moving steadily towards the southwest, the colors fell in line with the quads the map was divided into. A1, B4, D2, and so on. In truth, red and blue held predominance on the paper's creases and meridians. In fact, yellow had only been used the once, and then it had been traced over with red. A false lead apparently. Or perhaps a too tired mind. Either way, the walls' one adornment held, by any standards, the look of a search.

If one cared to look beyond the walls and perhaps dig through one of the two suitcases that were strewn beneath the two single beds with matching comforters and starched sheets, one would find many more of these such maps, all graffitied in reds and blues, all absent of the yellow lines that meant success. And naturally one would assuredly also note, underneath these discarded papers kept only for records' sake, the newspaper clippings. Nothing too unique in that, of course, however, if one considered the newspapers' origins. Yes, now note the interesting facts: clipping 6- Girl Found in Park; Amnesia; clipping 14- New Substitute for Mokichi Academy, Hoshi Tomiko Starts with New Identity; and certainly clipping 32 (and by far the most recent article)- Curious Case for May, Amnesia Patient Remembers Nothing Even Under Hypnosis. Certainly a longer title than most, the article itself was only four more lines which included the date, the weather as it arose on that date, and of course, the city of origin.

If this same perusing person chose to compare the article's place of origin and the map on the wall, he would most unsurprisingly find that the two were the same.

And hey, hey, hey...curiosity doesn't always kill the cat, now does it?

Certainly not this cat.

He lay with his back facing the door, and his eyes tightly closed. He had originally planned on spending a few moments in meditation, an old habit from his early martial art training days, however, the process of sweeping clean his thoughts had only led to the thoughts becoming startlingly clear. And the doubts, as they always did, flew forward with them.

A year had passed. Twelve months, fifty-two weeks, three hundred and sixty-five days, eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours, five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes- anyway he looked at it, too much time had passed. How many meters had he walked, and how many people had he spoken to during this time? Too many too count, too many to remember most probably; Kyou felt that the time for their search to end was drawing near, and while his heart ached, a small part of him argued that fate or destiny or whatever that great will that creates a life's path had kept Tohru from being found for a reason.

It was this unknown reason that frightened him at times. A year was a great amount of seconds and minutes in which one could find many happinesses, new happinesses, different happinesses- a whole long stretch of happinesses separate from memories made with himself and with his cousin, in a past she could no longer remember. It was just as well to say that they never happened at all, because in the her memory, they no longer existed.

What Kyou feared more than never finding Tohru, was to find her happy- happy without them. It was selfish and coarse reasoning, but it was honest. And as more minutes passed, as more hours passed, as the days and weeks and months passed, the fear stood only to grow into a huge hideous thing- into a monster. And he was tired of dealing with monsters.

He hadn't told Yuki yet...but this would be his last stop. After this, he would return to the family and start his own future. He had never formed real plans for the future, not beyond reaching his freedom. In the past year's time, little had come forth in the means of ideas, yet his mind continued to return to his time teaching in Chiyo. Sure, he had complained about the kids and called them brats, but he had enjoyed his time there. And, he had been good at it. The teachers had complimented him and encouraged him.

Plus, if Kyou could become as great a teacher as his Shishio then it was a goal worth working toward.

"Get up; it's close to sunset." Yuki's calm voice interrupted his thoughts. Kyou turned over, running a coarse hand through his hair.

"I'm up; where to tonight?" he asked.

Yuki stared at the map, his grey eyes scanning over the already covered ground. His blue marks and Kyou's red glared back bleakly.

"Next quadrant of course. I'll cover these streets, if you'll take care of these." He pointed with a thin finger at a zigzagging stretch of lines.

Kyou slapped down his feet. "See you in a couple of hours."

"Yeah." Yuki didn't turn around as Kyou slammed the door behind him. He visibly sagged against the wall, his head cradled in between his hands. He had never been an optimist. It had never been part of his personality. He rarely hoped, because often hope meant disappointment. The energy that had spurred him on during the last year was dying, and the long hours spent walking up and down streets, staring into shop windows, and holding out photographs ate away at his heart. He had dropped his defenses for her, he had dropped the shield of protection that guarded his heart for her, but he didn't know how much longer he could stand the hurt that came with the fallen guards.

Soon, he prayed daily, soon.

And then he too, grabbed his keys and shut the door behind him, cutting off the hallway light from the small apartment. Another evening, and more streets to search.

* * * * * *

"What do you think, Tohru-chan? How about this design?" Saori's eager fingers pointed to yet another swirl and rose cake motif. The girl opposite to her studied the picture and then shook her head.

"Not quite right..."

Saori scanned through the next few pages, while Tohru glanced around the store- boutique as the owner called it. Draperies hung over false marble busts and china sets were displayed in every corner. The 'One Stop Wedding Shop!' as her future sister in law had jokingly called it.

She looked back at her friend who was still industriously at work through the catalogue of wedding cake designs. She felt a smile creep over her lips. Saori had this way of always relieving her worries- even when the worries were in the shape of shadows and never remembered names. All day there had been this sense of premonition hanging over her, and while her ears didn't itch nor did she sneeze as the requisite superstitions required, she was convinced that something important concerning herself was going to happen.

Other than her wedding, of course.

A hand tapped on her shoulder and a warm voice asked teasingly, "Is this one for sale as well?"

Tohru spun around and was greeted by Genji's bright smile. He brushed his lips over her cheek and took her hand.

"Still deciding on the cake design, Tohru?" he asked.

"I can't seem to find the right one..." she continued, gesturing toward the store's vibrant array, "They all seem the same some how or the other."

"You could always let a catering service take care of it," he suggested gently, turning her toward the route conversations about their upcoming wedding always led to.

Tohru's lip was stubborn. "I want to make it-" she smiled, "And besides, Genji-kun, it makes me so happy to see you enjoying the food that I make."

She blushed as he kissed her hand dramatically. "In that case, by all means, Tohru-hime, if it makes you happy, do as you must!"

Saori laughed and grabbed Tohru's hand away from her brother's. "Listen, 'Ni-san, Tohru-chan and I have work to do. Go and do whatever it is guys do for weddings."

He bowed, his light brown hair falling into his eyes as always. "Then it is to the sake shop I shall go! A wedding isn't a wedding without sake!" He winked and left.

Saori sighed, her hands on her hips. "He acts like such a little boy. When will he grow up?"

Tohru didn't reply, her mind a thousand miles away. Genji's words echoed in her thoughts: a wedding isn't a wedding without sake...without sake...sake... What was it she was trying to remember? It wasn't the sake...no- it was how he said it. It reminded her of someone...

A flash of a smile crossed her vision and two words: little flower...

Saori caught her as she fell. The store owner rushed over to her side, smelling salts pulled out of the air appearing in her hands.

"Here, here, just let her get a whiff of this...has she eaten? Oh, these young brides get so excited and then forget to take care of themselves! Tsk, tsk..." The old woman went on, while Saori puzzled over her friend's sudden collapse.

What triggered it this time?

* * * *

Tohru woke to find herself sprawled out over a plush futon. From the background, she could hear the muffled sounds of customers and clicking heels. She tried to sit up and then a hand helped her. She smiled gratefully into her roommate's hazel eyes.

"Did you have a flashback, Tohru-chan?" Saori asked softly, handing her friend a glass of water and two aspirin.

"Yes...I think. But it's so vague, just like the others." Tohru sipped at the ice cold water, thankful for her friend's thoughtfulness.

"Are you going to tell 'Ni-san?"

"I don't want to worry, Genji-kun..."

"Ah."

Tohru stepped from the couch, testing her head's ability to steer straight and then picked up her purse. "We still need to find that cake design, Saori-chan."

Saori didn't move. She fiddled with the tips of her short hair as she always did when she was nervous. "I wanted to ask you something for a long time now. I know you and 'Ni-san like each other very much. I mean, I know he loves you, Tohru-chan. But-" she paused and bit down on her lip, "do you love him? Truly?"

Tohru sat back down herself, the question being one she often asked herself after the nightmares that woke her nightly. She grabbed her friend's hand and squeezed gently. "Genji-kun is very important to me. You and Genji-kun are the most important people in my life."

Saori stared into her friend's wide brown eyes and saw the dilemma centered there. She wanted a more definite answer than that, but-

She smiled and squeezed back. "Eh, we're so serious, Tohru-chan! We're still young! We should be laughing and flirting with cute boys, not sitting in stores and talking like middle aged women. Come, let's go bother 'Ni-san. He never could hold his sake."

Tohru laughed back and followed her friend.

* * * *

He was beginning to hate the crowds. While the attention wasn't focused on him, he nevertheless felt a closing in, a confining hold from the mass of people. Naturally, there was the ever present danger that at anytime, some clumsy female (or deliberate!) might stumble into him and cause a transformation. More than that though, crowds stripped away his defenses. Despite being camouflaged into the general mob of faces, there was a nakedness to the whole ordeal that frightened him, scared him.

Perhaps it was in some part due to the nature of his curse. After all, the mouse never had a fondness for large mobs of stomping feet and heavy elbows.

Yuki edged his way carefully across the intersection, the familiar twang of the light's toll playing in the background. Evening, he had found, was the best time to search. The streets, while full, carried people willing to stop for a bite to eat or drink, relax, and gossip. The gossip was what he played on the most. Word about a new substitute teacher or baby sitter, some poor girl who had lost her memory; rumors of a young lady just moved in with a fondness for making riceballs- oh yes, six months earlier, three weeks had been spent chasing that goose up the road- even small catches of a newly arrived student.

He would pretend to listen and then ask carefully prepared questions. Simple ones that wouldn't pique the giver's attention. Things like:

"Amnesia? I remember my cousin once having it...couldn't remember his name for a week. Does she have it as bad as that?"

Which brought an adamant refusal and need to expand on information. Other times, all it took was a cleverly worded prompt, like:

"She's probably faking it. Girls like that are runaways, most likely greedy and selfish. You can tell these things."

If the girl matched Tohru's description, the supplier of information would naturally refute all these claims and exhort on the unknown girl's kindness, compassion, and good heartedness.

Even then, though, none of these girls turned out to be the one girl.

Even then...

A shawled woman jostled his shoulder dangerously, and he dodged for the cover of a nearby store front. The display caught his eye and his breath. The white dress was draped in typical western tradition, with lightly tapered lace and heavy gauze. A veil hung from the mannequin's brow and a trellace of pink and blue flower buds circled it. Grasped in the mannequin's hands was a single lily. A flash of the past crept into his mind, only the dress was black and the scene far less optimistic than that of a wedding.

With a pang, Yuki considered what a year's worth of time really meant. In a year's time, Tohru might have already donned a dress much like this and kissed the lips of a man meant to give her a ring at the end of the short walk. Discouraged with his thoughts, he pocketed his hands and left the shop's stoop. From behind him, he heard a man's voice call out loudly.

"'Nee-chan, where's my Hime-sama? Where'd you hide her?"

A female voice replied, laughter in her voice. "I didn't hide her anywhere. She can't make up her mind which kind of strawberries to buy."

"That would be my Hime-sama...never can make up her mind. A strawberry's a strawberry."

"'Ni-san! She only wants to make the best cake for you!"

And they both laughed.

Yuki bowed forward, walking on. Their 'hime-sama' sounded like someone he knew...never being able to make up her mind. A small smile quirked at the edge of his lips. What he would give to see her anxious face watching as he tasted her always delicious dinners. He might even manage to be more than civil to that other guy...maybe...

* * * *

Author's Notes:

Expect next chapter soon. Won't make any promises, but check out next Sunday's listing.