Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Strawberries and Skinny-Dipping: Hatori's Remedy ❯ The Big Green Monster ( Chapter 37 )

Standard Disclaimer applies.

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A/N: This chapter was edited by the superb Enigmatic Your advice is spot-on. Thanks so much my dear. Sorry for the long wait. Hope the drama in this chapter makes up for it.

Hatori's Remedy presents:

Chapter 37: The Big Green Monster

Tohru was speechless minutes after she read the letter. All this information had just bombarded her, like frozen rain. Yellow stars danced before her eyes. She blinked back tears. The heartrending words struck something within in, leaving an unfamiliar buzzing in her fragile system. Even after his death, even after all the pain endured alone, this woman loved her husband completely, indefinitely. This made Tohru determined to make her relationship with Hatori a success story. Tohru wanted to experience love in all its facets. She was ready for what life had to offer, whether it be leaving for comfort zone for a challenge, or even trying a new food. She was ready for the battle ahead, with her heart shielded by steel armor, standing next to the person she loved and trusted the most in the world. They had each other's backs. Even if they were shot down, they would patch up each other's wounds and stand their ground until the end of time.

Hatori rubbed Tohru's back soothingly. “Please don't cry,” he said, his voice cracking. She took his other hand and brought it to her lap. She drew absentminded, loopy patterns in his outstretched palm. She said quietly, but firmly, “We are in this together.”

Those words meant the world to him. He immediately knew that if anyone discovered their relationship, if they meet the dark, glowing eyes of disaster, she would not cower or be afraid. He wouldn't either. Not again.

“Would you like to go out and get something to eat, Tohru?” His voice was low and reassuring to her ears.

“Let's just sit in. I've missed you so much. I'm really sorry.”

Please don't apologize, Tohru.

He pulled her body into his arms. “I've missed you too, Tohru.” He wrapped his arms around her midsection and squeezed lovingly; until Tohru worried that her ribs might give out. She giggled, “You're holding me too tightly.” But she was not serious. He looked at her profile, simple, beautiful. She wore no makeup. He loved it. Mere seconds passed before she turned and put her long straight legs on his lap. She looked adorable with pigtails and a white linen shift dress. Her eyes rose upward to meet his. They were melancholy.

She was still mourning the letter.

---

Despite Hatori telling Tohru not to work so much, even during the school year, she did. She did not want to spite him, but she needed the money. She felt guilty asking others, even if it was just borrowing. She was putting on her Mary-Jane shoes, she Yuki appeared by her side. “Are you going to work?”

“Hai.”

“Can I come along? I don't have much to do this afternoon. I can help out and maybe we can catch a ride to the Fugaii Station. They just revealed this abstract mural. I've heard it's quite inspiring.”

“I'm delighted you asked me, Yuki-san. I'd love to do.” He blushed a pale pink, the color quite becoming on his alabaster skin. She added, “I think you should change into some different clothing. We're going to be doing hard labor.”

Shigure called from the kitchen, “Hard labor. Don't break a nail, girls.”

“Shut up Shigure. Eat your own words,” Yuki retorted, his voice rather harsh and forbidding; a speak-again-and-I'll-draw-something-with-permanent-marker-on-your-oh -so-unblemished-face-at-night voice. Yuki did not have a soft spot for the owner of the roof he was living under. It was a rather childish grudge with no supporting evidence as to why he disliked the older man so much.

“I am unloved, Tohru. Can you give me a kiss? My fractured little heart has been wounded by a mean boy.”

Tohru slipped off her black shoes and tiptoed across the cold floor to the tiled kitchen. “I'm sorry.” She bent down and planted a soft, almost undetectable (it felt like a fly's wings) kiss of Shigure's forehead.

Outside the house, Yuki said offhandedly, “You know, you don't have to do whatever that old pervert demands. He is quite an odd, lewd, masquerading puzzle that no one will ever be able to solve, or break.”

“It's okay. He's harmless.”

---

Shigure sat on Hatori's office couch. He said proudly, haughtily to his childhood friend, “I was kissed today.”

“Congratulations. How much did you pay her?” Hatori responded indifferently.

Shigure frowned half-heartedly. “You think awfully low of me. My little flower gave me a sweet kiss.”

Hatori spun in his swiveling chair. “She kissed you?!” It was probably completely innocent and friendly, or accidental, but Hatori still felt a surge of provoked emotions, a need to know why and what triggered this action.

“What? Am I that despicable and unpleasant?” A pout marred Shigure's face. He was too caught up in himself and Hatori's mean comments to notice the trepidation and concern in Hatori's voice.

“Where?”

“In the kitchen.” In the kitchen, oh no! That's our special place!

“No I mean specifically where on your face?”

“Naughty, naughty. I didn't take you for the type of person who lived vicariously through others. I know you've been abstaining for sex for the past several years, but…”

“Tell me.” Hatori insisted. (His voice was almost a hiss. He was a green, envious snake.)

“You speak to me as if I deflowered the Virgin Mary. It was an innocent kiss on my forehead, initiated by mon words. You are such a party pooper, you protector of virtue.”

Hatori sighed in relief, the tension in his body dispelling into the seat.

“Humpf, you talk as though she is someone special to you. She's just Tohru.”

Oops, wrong thing to say. Surrender now.

“She has been living with you for almost two and a half years, and-and you can't even treat her as a person. She is like an object to you. She is a lovely young woman. She does all your dirty work. She never complains or has the heart to say no, even when she is tired. Don't you see the rose in front of you?” You never appreciate until you lose it…

Shigure weighted Hatori's words.

“I do see a blossoming bud.” Shigure said with an impious smirk.

Argh. “Will you ever grow up?” Hatori's tone was more playful than serious; he was already used to Shigure's double entendres.

“Will you stop being such a fucking, woe-is-me, doom-and-gloom-bug fluttering around the world hopelessly, overanalyzing, hating, finding fault, and poisoning the mood of those around you? Take a rest and smell a rose for Kami's dear sake.”

“I'll try. And I seriously expect you to lay off Tohru.”

---

While they were mopping the seventh floor, they heard something shatter floors below. Glass. The crashing sound was painful. Tohru's heart leaped. It brought back agonizing memories of when Tohru had found her mom in the kitchen, on the ground, her fingers cut up. She had tried to pick up broken Pyrex glass. She had just started to measure ingredients for a special cake for Tohru winning the drawing contest. Kyoko had said, “Don't worry about me. Please don't cry, Tohru.” Tohru was called to the fourth floor moments later to clean up broken glass. Broken on the black marble floor was what was once a large glass vase filled with multi-colored pebbles.

“Tohru, you shouldn't clean this up. It's dangerous. Let me go get the big broom.”

“It's fine. We can use the broom after I pick up the big pieces.” Yuki ran downstairs to retrieve the straw broom and pan. Tohru made her way past the small sharp shards. Her fingers were shaking when they reached down to pick up a large rhombus shaped piece of class. It was perfect. Two parallel sides.

She picked several more pieces. She breathed deeply, as she put them in a plastic bag. She picked up another piece. Her clumsy finger grazed a smaller fragment of glass. It pierced the tip of her middle finger. Pearls of crimson blood dripped to the floor. She was stunned. Her breath was staccato and uneven. She had been so careful…

Yuki returned and looked down at the motionless, crouching girl. Something was wrong. He dropped the broom and pan and went to her side. He saw her bleeding finger. His heart banged against his chest. He picked her up, his arms under her armpits and dragged her carefully to an armchair in the lobby, onto his lap, into his arms. He held her as though she were his little sister.

“It's okay.” He took the hem of his shirt and wrapped it around her middle finger, soaking the blood. He applied pressure to the cut.

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she said, “I won't cry.” Yuki's eyes shifted from her hand to her face.

“What's wrong here?” said a worried voice beside them.

Tohru's eyes quivered like a ripple of waves before opening. “Hello Kaneshiro,” she murmured.

“Tohru's hurt.”

Kaneshiro crouched beside them, and looked at Yuki's blood soaked hemline.

“I'll go get a bandage.”

“Who's that, Tohru?”

“That's Kaneshiro. He works here with me.”

“He seems pretty incisive and helpful.”

“He knows how clumsy I am.”

“Be careful next time. You mean a lot to us. No one wants to see you hurt.”

“I'm sorry.”

Kaneshiro returned and wrapped the bandage around her finger. “There you are. I'll clean this mess up. You ought to leave work today and get some rest. You've been here every afternoon.”

Tohru felt a burning need to explain her self. “School's just started… I don't have too much homework or tests to study for.” She added ashamedly, “I need the money to go to college.”

“It's unhealthy for you to do it alone. I'm going to start work here too.” Yuki said.

“No, you don't have to. I'm sorry I'm causing you so much trouble…”

“No you aren't. You do so much for us. It's the least I can do. I need to get some experience with physical labor anyways. It will build up my immune system, right?”

“That's great. Someone else on the janitorial/plant management workforce! I'm Kaneshiro.” Kaneshiro offered his hand to Yuki. Yuki accepted and introduced himself as well.

“You guys should really leave.”

“No…” Tohru said, weakly.

“I won't tell that you left work thirty minutes early.”

“You hear that, Tohru?”

“Okay,” she finally agreed. She added softly, “I'm sorry.”

---

An hour later, they were at Fugaii tram station. Everything outside had been grey. Grey streetlamps. Grey clouds. Grey smoke from buildings they passed in the bus. But the train station was oddly stuffy and comforting. It was clean. The mural was indeed beautiful. Splashes of color: warm sunflower yellows and vivid Arctic blues swirled together in a vortex, creating a third color of a murky turquoise green. It was like a countryside eddy, a small whirl of a stream, where the currents created concentric circles. It looked simple. But the vortex seemed to draw the onlooker. Inside the currents were zigzags, ripples, and bubbles. It was striking, emotional, and provoking. Both students took out their cell phones to snap pictures. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Tohru noticed a drizzle of black. It was like a scar - jagged and meaningful, a wound on this beautiful wall painting. She zoomed in on the black hole in the mural. It looked like something, but she could not quite put her finger on it. It looked almost angry and spiteful, yet it did not mar the beauty of the large painting.

“You looked perplexed Tohru.”

“Oh no. I was just wondering about that black splotch over there.” She pointed.

“Hmm. Wonder if it's an element of the mural, or some hoodlum's doing.” Yuki had on a quizzical detective expression, as though he was going to get to the bottom of this intriguing black blemish. All he needed was to rub (or stroke) his chin with his thumb and index finger.

“I really like it.” She commented. “The colors are beautiful.”

“I like it too. I'd love to see more by this phantom artist.” His voice was hoarse by the end of the sentence, he cleared his throat. “I'm thirsty.”

Tohru dug in her green bag. She took out a bottle of water. “A-ha!” She dug around and also found a package of crackers.

Yuki was grateful for Tohru. She was like his sister. They looked out for each other. They walked around the large train station, which was like an art gallery itself, before leaving to go to market nearby. Yuki asked Tohru, “You've been living with the Sohmas for a couple years now? Do you ever feel… different, like you're holding a secret from your friends?”

“I don't have that feeling. I love you all.”

“If you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here for you. You know that, right?”

“Yes. You saved me when I cut my finger. You are the brother I never had.” Tohru gave a small chuckle. “Do you want fish for dinner tonight?”

“Miso-Marinated Tilapia on rice?”

“Sure.”

---

Later that night, Tohru lay in bed alone. She felt stuffy and turned on the ceiling fan. She listened to the steady humming of the machinery. She has not seen Hatori for two days. Separation was a bitch, a word she rarely used, but seemed to fit perfectly for her current state of mind. They loved each other, but could not share their bliss for fear that word would spread and… disapproval.

She heard the floorboard outside creak. Who was there? The door swung open. Kyo walked in, wearing pajama pants.

“Couldn't sleep.” His voice was drowsy, and his movements were feline.

He pulled a chair out and sat down, facing her. His eyes were dark pebbles in the darkness only let with a sprinkle of pale yellow light from the moon. His hands were clasped in his lap, wringing and wringing. He seemed troubled.

“There's been something on my mind.”

Tohru sat up in her bed, the covers falling from her upper body, revealing the thin black camisole she wore. She slipped her legs to the edge of the bed, ready to get off and go over to him to comfort him.

“I love you.”

---

Uneasy moments slipped by. She stared at him in the dark, stiff as a two-hundred year old tree.

“I can't,” she choked, shaking her head. Her throat felt as if it had hot acid bubbling up; she wanted to speak, but she couldn't. The words were like bubbles, elusive and so delicate. Her clever classmate, her dear, sometimes grumpy, easily irritable friend, her `brother'… loved her? Romantically? This couldn't be. She had never thought of him in that way.

“Have you noticed I've been trying to avoid you for the past few months? Even at the end of the school year, I went days without seeing you. I was afraid that-that I would do or say something stupid. I couldn't bear to see you.” He looked away from her, at the moon outside, and continued. “I know I haven't been the nicest guy, but I do care for you. I want to change. For you.”

His eyes returned to her figure perched at the edge of the bed. Her world had just spun off its axis. Violent and unceasing.

“I sprung this on you too soon; I knew it…” he trailed off. “Say something.” His eyes flickered; it was a slideshow of emotions. The usually icy barricade was gone.

“I can't, I'm sorry.” She repeated, her lips numb, as though dipped in ice water.

“Why?”

She paused. “I love someone else already.”

He acknowledged her words with curt nod. “It isn't Yuki, is it?”

“No.”

“Who then?” His body slumped, hopeless.

“I can't tell you.” It's a secret.

“I'm sorry. I should have kept it to myself, so that my heart wouldn't be so damn pained.”

“I'm sorry, Kyo-kun. I care a lot for you. You are my friend.”

“I don't want to be just your friend.” He said stubbornly. Tohru was silent.

Kyo continued, “Alright then, goodnight. You should just pretend that this was a dream, or nightmare, or whatever. Don't think about it again. It was just an impulsive action. I'm sorry that I disgust you so fucking much that…”

She got to her feet and hurried towards him. She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. “You don't disgust me. You never… I'm sorry.” This was a rare statement from him. It left her wondering, lost in thought.

He shrugged her hand off, not wanting her to feel his body shaking like a leaf in the midst of a tempest; her knuckles were white, the bone jutting out of her transparent skin. “Don't be. It's not your fault.” His voice rumbled with emotion, thunderous and rolling, a harbinger of something bad. He left the room, and walked down the hallway, wilted. Like a dying flower.

She returned to her bed, blinking hard, trying to clear her mind. It wasn't a dream. Tears rolled down her eyes. It was the oncoming of a storm. Her life had been so perfect. Now, it was shattered into serrated pieces. She felt tightness in her chest. The air around her was oppressive and heavy, humid and all-consuming. She had hurt him. She could tell. But she did not want to lead him on. Did he really feel that way toward her? Had she been too careless to notice? A loud crash interrupted her ruminations. She went into the hallway. She heard Kyo grumbling.

She treaded softly to his room, the door ajar, not wanting to startle him. She stood next to the door. He was stuffing clothing into a duffel bag.

“What do you want?” He growled, almost viciously. Unflinching. But he could never be vicious toward her.

“Wh-where are you going?” She murmured.

“I don't know.” He answered coldly. He turned into a frozen prince in a matter of moments. “I can't stay here. I'll find someplace.” He didn't not apologize for his outburst, knowing that it wouldn't change a thing.

“I'm sorry.” She had always had a habit of apologizing. “Kyo.” Her voice was longing, wanting to make things better, hopeful.

“You've decided.” His sad, grim voice stung her heart; now it was pulsating, throbbing painfully, though she knew that his words were true. He looked at her for the shortest of moments. His eyes were stone cold; the barrier had been put up again. His expression was set in marble, nonchalant, but pullulating with anger and frustration below the skin. He did not look at her. The stillness outside ceased. The branches of the old tree outside scratched against the window, eerily. It was as though her throat had sealed, a rope tied around her throat, tight, burning. She could not speak.

The next morning, he was gone.

She felt like a monster.

---

For days, she did not speak to anyone about what transpired that night. She acted as if nothing happened, feeling that it was her fault. She wanted to let the guilt and pain eat at her insides, to be sucked into the eye of the storm. She hurt him. She had always been the poster child for kindness and optimistic, and she shattered him, literally. She did not think about him, only herself, her secret. Late at night, she tended to wake up in a sweat, cold and shivering. Crawling out of her bed and peering outside her window, she hoped for his return, like a forlorn seaman's wife. She didn't know why, but still she believed that he would return like a lost cat in the night.

 

Finally, one night, she noticed something like a white shirt on the grass.

 

---

A/N: -ducks flying tomatoes- I hope no one is mad about Kyo's confession. I have my reasons for torturing the old boy. Tohru the once Mary Sue… thrown into a whirling cyclone of grief. What will she do?

TBC…