Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Strawberries and Skinny-Dipping: Hatori's Remedy ❯ A Love Letter ( Chapter 36 )

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A/N: Thanks for being supportive of this story! A big thank you to Botan and Kurama Lover for a great idea in this chapter; and my brilliant beta Enigmatic Eel.

Enjoy!

Hatori's Remedy presents:

Chapter 36 A Love Letter

School started in September. The summer breeze had finally died out, along with her summer fantasy. She was like a walking corpse - soundless as she crossed the campus. She spoke only when spoken to. She was only comfortable in the shadows and almost could not handle the real world. She was painfully aware of all the sounds and the mechanical workings of the world - loud and cacophonous. At night, she could only wonder what the future had in store for her; the present was a nightmare, and the past was a beautiful secret. Each night, she left the house at midnight. She sat on the porch steps and listened to the sound of the nocturnal birds, her arms covered in goose bumps, her lips trembling.

After the first night apart from him, she had not cried. Moisture always blurred her vision when she thought of him, but they never fell.

She hadn't spoken to him once during the past two week. Her friends thought she was going through post-summer withdrawal symptoms; that was only part-true. Kyo thought she was going through her “monthlies” and avoided her at all costs.

Tohru was filled with overwhelming guilt and sadness. Was she the reason Hatori had been so distraught that night? She could see the pain in his eyes when he told her he had to erase the vagrant's mind. I've put you in such a complex situation. It's my fault, she told herself.

On Thursday, during her second week of school, she could not handle the separation. It ate at her like maggots. Tohru stopped at the bakery for Momiji's favorite carrot cake before she went to the estate after school, ringing for him at the gates.

“Hello, it's Tohru. May I come in?”

“Of course.”

The gates opened, and she walked in. She went to his small house that he shared with Hiro. He was waiting on the porch, dressed in a grey jumpsuit and ankle boots.

“Hallo Tohru! I haven't seen you at school. Thanks for visiting me. Hiro's been no fun at all.” He said, pouting.

“Hello Momiji. I bought some carrot cake for you.”

“My favorite!”

He took the box from her and opened it up. Inside the box was a plastic knife, which he used as a spoon. “This is great. How did you know?”

“Rabbit… carrots… plus you told me one time. I'm glad you like it.” She bowed her head.

“Try some. It has pineapple and nuts too. The frosting is not too sweet. It's perfect.” He cut off a big piece and fed it to Tohru.

“This is good. Thank you for sharing with me,” she said with her mouth full.

After they chatted, Tohru left feeling marginally more cheerful.

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Hatori heard his porch croak. Who or what was on it? He was fearful that it was Akito. He went to his window and peeked out.

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He had almost done the deed five days ago. It had been right before lunch when he saw the scruffy man in the stone garden. He was sitting in the center with his legs crossed (his knees protruding from the jeans), meditating. It felt so wrong to do someone who was in the midst of something so pure. His hands felt clammy when he approached the man.

Hatori knelt down beside him, on the smooth grey stones. The man opened his eyes.

“Hello,” Hatori said.

“Hello. Do you live here?”

“Yes I do.” Hatori said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I want to give you something.” The man took a small cloth satchel out of his coat pocket. He unfolded it on one hand. Hatori peered at the folded crisp papers.

The man said, “Take it.”

Hatori's took the delicate papers, which were made of linen. It was yellowed with age and tied with a white thread. He unfolded it with painful slowness, his palms almost soaked with sweat.

Hatori recognized many traditional symbols. He read the first few lines and found that he could not tear his eyes away. A cold shiver crawled across his back, though it was a warm, still day.

I waited for the day you would respond to my affection; tell me that you were in love with me. Your curse does not make me think any different of you. When I first met you in college, I fell in love. The first time I heard you say your name, the way the words dripped from your soft lips, the way your green eyes twinkled in the bright sun; I was in love. You had an amazing way with words. You were witty and sharp. You were so handsome, but so far from me. Your eyes were always distant. You never looked at your friends when you spoke to them and I thought that was very odd, but it did not bother me the slightest. You were older, wiser, like a bottle of vintage wine. I was just a speck. You had a reputation for being cold. But I wanted to get to know you, open you up, and drink you in. I saw the way you acted around girls. You teased them. And that made me afraid. I never approached you, afraid that you would turn me down. …

He stopped reading. It was as though he had intruded on something delicate. This was between two lovers. It was wrong, but so very tempting.

He looked back at the older man. He said slowly, “This family is wrought with something strange. You must leave at once or something bad will happen to you. Please do not come to these estates again. Don't ask any questions. Don't tell anyone anything you've heard or seen.”

The man looked at Hatori, startled. He wanted to ask what was going on, what the letter meant, but he didn't. He may have been a vagrant, but he could see in the young man's eyes honesty and anguish; something dark and forbidden. Some things were better left unsaid. Unopened. Unknown.

He merely nodded his head and said, “May you prosper, young man.”

The old man gathered his belongings at the corner of the stone garden and trudged to the hole in the fence and disappeared.

Hatori told himself that he had done the right thing. He prayed that Akito never left the estates and recognized the man on the streets. He returned to his office with the letter clutched in his hand, like something holy.

… On Valentine's Day, when all the girls came up to you with homemade chocolates, you rejected each and every one of them. You were not afraid to crush their feelings. I only watched. I did not want to get hurt. Those long years, I could not concentrate as my love for you grew. I was crazy. A piece of me died during the summers. I would never go as far as following you to your residence - I was no stalker. The first time we made contact was when I was carrying all my books in my hands, on a rainy day. I was rushing to get to my next class, when I brushed passed you roughly and dropped all my books. You turned and stared past me with distant eyes, with a crease in your brow. I quickly picked up my books, afraid that you would say something cold and shatter my wondrous illusion of you. But you touched my shoulder and picked up my books for me. Without any spoken words, you followed me to my class, carrying them. For me. My heart swelled with desire and happiness and I wanted to say thank you, to throw my arms around you and confess. But I did not. My heart immediately deflated when I realized that it had been three years since I first saw you, three years since I fell in love, three years that I promised that I would never love another man, three years since I lost my mind. It was an unrequited love and nothing more. You were just lending a hand; I refused to look too deeply into it. The weeks went by. I began feeling very anxious, because you were graduating. I would never see you again. My heart grew weary as graduation came. I was thinking about going to the stage and screaming that I was in love with you so that everyone would know, not just you and me. But I would never do that. I have always been meek. When a boy pursued me, a kind boy who cared for me, I told him that I loved someone else. He asked me, with pain in his eyes if that person knew, and I said no. I never loved anyone; I was never given that chance when I saw you. I did not give any chances in return.

To my surprise, you did not either. I saw you with several girls throughout the years, but each never lasted more than a couple weeks. I began to worry that you were not attracted to women but, in my twisted mind, I thought that could be good news, because that meant you would never give any love to any woman, and that I could live with the illusion that you loved me. I was sad and miserable when you left school. The next time I saw you, you entered the elevator of my workplace. I nearly fainted on the marble floor. You looked different after two years. Your hair was shorter. You looked more mature. I found out that you got a job on my floor and I was so ecstatic. I always knew we majored in similar fields, but I didn't think that we would be sharing a workplace. You worked in an office around the corner from my cubicle. It was fate that brought us together on a rainy day so reminiscent of that day three years ago. We were both standing under the overhang of the building. A cab pulled up, and you offered it to me, but I said that you were there first, so you should get it. You said, “Suit yourself.” But the cab drove around the block and you came out and asked me if I wanted to go out for tea with you. That was the beginning of our relationship. You asked me out on a date. You came to my door with a handful of white chrysanthemums. You said you wanted to be different from other men who gave red roses. You said that the white chrysanthemum represented truth, what a good relationship ought to be based on. I almost melted in joy when you told me that you remembered me from college. I finally confessed my feelings. You said you had a tiny crush on me too. You said I was beautiful, that my beautiful black hair was as soft as silk and dark as obsidian. You said my eyes were pure and trustworthy. But you also said that I shouldn't get mixed up with your kind because you had a bad childhood and you were not very friendly. You think that would stop me? From what I saw, you were perfect. You were a perfect gentleman - polite, responsible, faithful, and dependable. But you were also untrusting, temperamental, and closed off. I could never read you. But you could always read me. You took advantage of that sometimes. But I craved you. You always made me feel loved, but also torn sometimes. You never let me touch your chest. You always swatted my hand away. I felt sullied, like I was a peasant who was not supposed to touch the prince's glorious body. Our courtship was as volatile as the shifting clouds on a stormy day. I loved you too much to care about that. Your lofty being was brought down to my peasantry. We were married three years later. The relationship was stimulating and never boring. I blush when I say this, but the sex was always interesting to say the least, because I was never allowed to touch you with my hands. Finally one day I yelled at you. I wanted to know why I was not allowed to touch you. I reminded you of the white chrysanthemum that you gave me on our first date. `What was that about truth? I am your wife, why can't you tell me?' You told me that you were cursed and that it was my fault for getting in a relationship with you, and then not being mature enough to accept everything. When you told me about the Juunishi curse, I wept with tears, but you cheered me up by showing me your animal - the seahorse. I was so surprised, such a small creature for great man. I laughed and you were embarrassed, though you tried to hide it.

You were very passionate early in our relationship. That two-day period a year, on the seventh and eighth of April where I could touch you, I was joyous. I appreciated and cherished every moment we spent together. I looked forward to two passionate days of roaming hands, caressing lips, soft touches, love bites, slippery bodies, and wild moans. When you told me about your ability to erase people's minds, I wanted to run away, run from this nightmare. You said you were a memory reaper, obliterating people's memories. You said that it was your duty. In every generation of Sohmas, one was given the responsibility. It was sacred torture, if that was possible. If ever, a non-Sohma was exposed to any knowledge of the curse, you went into shock for days before the exploit. I could tell your heart was pure. It made me love you even more. But years into the relationship, it was as though you grew tired of life. We lived on the estates. Life was too perfunctory, like a machine. That curse, that stupid prophecy set by some ancestor destining the seahorse - the latent form of the dragon - to play the role ruined you. I wanted you to be happy, I wanted to protect you, but I could do nothing. I was weak and useless and could only watch as you fell. You became a broken angel. You were sent to me to heal my heart, but left it cracked.

I've realized it is better to have someone who loves you more that you love him, that loving someone who doesn't have the same level of love that you have for him, because when you let him go, your heart will be broken; because a piece of you died with him. My love for you is etched into my soul with a knife. When you told me right before you died, that you didn't love me, I was crushed. I told myself that you did care for me, and that you said it because you did not want me to be sad. You died too young. I wanted to kill myself. But I stayed for our son, that wonderful growing boy, with dark green eyes and a sorrowful smile, just like you. He loves you, though you pushed him too hard. I will never forget you and your incredible way with words. I will not forget your haunting, cool green eyes that never truly reflected anything but pain and despair. I will not forget the roles you played in life - father, husband, engineer, but first and foremost, a slave to the curse.

Though you never loved me the way I loved you - full and honest, I will love you for eternity. Every waking moment is pain, like arthritis swarming to every joint. My hands run across the right side of the bed every morning, in hope that maybe you returned from the dead. I wear the ring you gave me, as proud as I should be. Sometimes on the streets, I see a man, and I run after him, thinking it's you. I have become so pitiful. There is no doubt that I will die soon. My heart is broken. But it is difficult for me to ever think badly of you. Sano, I am yours for perpetuity and beyond, until the sun loses its brightness, until the earth dulls, until time fades to darkness. All I ever wanted was you. You gave me your body, but never your mind or soul. You are my husband, and I am your ever-faithful wife.

One day, someone will read this, and my confession will be free. Someone will know my pain.

You've left me here to wither,
Forever and beyond,

Hanako Sohma

Hatori stared at the letter bitterly. His heart had stopped at a few moments in the reading. His mother. He replayed in his mind and image of the three of them - his dad, his mom and him standing on the porch of their home. They had always seemed so distant from each other. He could not see their expressions. He did not see much affection. No hugs or kisses. After reading the letter, he did not hate his father. The hate seemed to fade.

Hatori's father had loved his mother. He may not have showered her with love and gifts, but he gave her a comfortable life with a few surprises. She had cherished the relationship. She had forgiven him.

Hatori should too. He read and reread the letter feeling the anchor in his heart lift.

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He opened the door to Tohru, who had been talking to herself, thinking about how to address him. Hello Hatori… I'm sorry I was so quick to judge… Will you forgive me?

“I didn't do it,” Hatori blurted out.

“E-excuse me?”

“I didn't erase the man's mind. Come in. I have something to show you.”

He welcomed her into the office and offered her a seat on the couch. He pointed to the yellowed papers on the coffee table. “Here. Read them.” And weep.

She held the papers in her lap. She fidgeted in her seat, not looking at Hatori.

“I'm sorry for leaving you at the watering hole. I was naïve. I didn't understand the responsibility you had. I…It is part of the curse, and I accept every aspect of it. I shouldn't have jumped to such childish conclusions. I'm sorry.”

“It's alright.” Anyone would have reacted the way you did. The Sohmas are cursed.

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A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed this installment. (Thanks again, Eel!)

Reviews are very welcomed. They make me feel happy!

If I didn't already mention it, this story is also posted on fanfiction.net, under the same profile name and same title.