It was another one of those days. Everyone had gone; Tohru had just given her tearful speech on how much they'd all miss him if and when he died. Akito sat slumped against the wall, his robes hanging loosely around his bony frame. He'd tugged the shoulders up again, but they always seemed to sink back in. He'd have to have them taken in again…it was just one of many bothers. He resisted the temptation just to tug them off entirely because it was still a bit chilly outside right now. The warm sunshine felt good, but the breeze could tip the balance into "uncomfortably cold" territory.

Akito felt drained. He'd given them all a thorough chewing out. He'd demanded that Hatori erase Tohru's memories only to be defied openly. He'd had to listen to the accursed girl's speech while pulling her hair hard enough to almost rip it out. Shigure and Yuki had stopped him from doing any further damage, but they hadn't been enough to protect the two of them the other way around. Akito demanded that Tohru stop crying and he'd begun to shake. They'd all felt it. They'd all felt him start to weaken. The rage he'd been holding onto since birth had begun to crack, the hurt underneath it at risk of being revealed. His armored shell was like a rotting tooth: everything had been fine until the hard outer shell had cracked. Now, he was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to take to his bed and hide under the covers the way he'd been doing since he was a youth. Instead, he stayed there, leaning against the wall. A white bird was fluttering around a basin of water, occasionally taking a drink and perching on the edge, but it didn't seem all that interested. It hopped and fluttered and seemed to not really know what it wanted or where it was going. Akito watched as it got closer. It wasn't the first time he'd seen this animal or even had it come this close. He wondered, though, why it had taken such a liking to him. The god spirit from the zodiac curse had partly been to blame, he supposed, but even that had its limits. Cautiously, curiously, he stretched out a pale hand.

The bird tilted its head and glanced at him with its large, dark eyes. Without hesitation, it fluttered its wings and landed in his palm. Judging by the shape, he supposed it was some breed of dove. It was an unusual bird, though, now that he had it up close. It was small to be a dove and its eyes were…green. They were as green as the new spring grass that was coming up. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he tried to remember if he'd ever seen a picture of such an animal. Nothing came to mind. Running his fingers over the soft white feathers, he wished it was this easy to deal with people. Animals were happy if they had enough food and drink and maybe a place to stay. They didn't demand anything of him or even ask. They didn't try to make him be something he wasn't. People here were either terrified of him or they made him out to be an actual god, which wore him out. Every time he got sick or otherwise "failed" their expectations, things would be whispered about the curse getting worse. That was the worst part—they didn't even want to acknowledge that he was just a man, not even a fully grown one at that.

"I can't do this anymore…" he sighed to the silent bird on his hand, "I'm so tired…I just want to get on with it. They won't miss me anyway. Maybe the girl will, but not the way I want to be missed."

The bird tilted its head, seeming to understand.

"My strength is failing me," he told her, "and they know it. Soon, someone will act and try to make it happen faster. For all I know, it's already happening. See?"

He grazed his cheek against her wing. The cool softness felt wonderful on the burning skin. What he didn't realize was that he was crying.

"Just once…I want to be like the others," he sighed, "nobody asked me…it was all decided from conception. Why?"

The bird moved cautiously forward. For one awful second, he was afraid it would try to peck him or something, but it didn't. Its beak gently brushed his cheek. He couldn't see it, but the bird was drinking his tears. In his mind, it had something to do with the saltiness. In the bird's mind, however, a lot more was going on.

"I'm back," Hatori said quietly, waiting on the usual explosion that came with disobeyed orders. Akito didn't answer. He was too preoccupied with his new friend.

"Are you angry that I didn't erase Tohru Honda's memories?"

Still, there was no reply. The little dove, just smaller than Akito's slender hand, had flown away, but Akito appeared not to have really noticed. His dark navy-colored eyes were fixed in a glazed stare at some far-off point outside. Hatori felt a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding escape—if Akito was furious with him, he'd have reacted by now.

"Akito, maybe you should go to bed."

Akito made a few token protests, but they were weak and half-hearted at best. He didn't really want to leave this place that he felt comfortable in, but he was getting increasingly tired and weak. Hatori helped him up and carried him to his bedroom. Akito didn't remember the process of changing clothes or being tucked in at all—he was already fading into unconsciousness by the time Hatori picked him up. And during that time, a white dove followed them closely.

So much pain…so much fury…

"Have you ever seen such a thing?" one of the maids commented, turning the sheets down for him, "Should I—"

"No," Akito protested.

"Suppose it…made a mess?"

"That's what I'm paying you for, isn't it? Now get out!"

The maid bowed respectfully, though her jaw twitched with frustration. With Akito's temper tantrums, she usually had her hands full sweeping up the shards of broken things and mopping up spilled things. She made her exit hastily.

Hatori's expression was one of deep disapproval, but he said nothing. He was used to this, but he really wished that Akito would be more respectful to the hired help. After hearing what Tohru had done for Yuki, Shigure, and Kyo after being hired on as a housekeeper, he knew not to underestimate those who kept things running smoothly. Akito stretched out on the bed, watching the little white dove.

"I'm just going to leave this window open," Hatori said, "we wouldn't want your new friend getting claustrophobic."

The dragon-spirited man was just as surprised as the others were. Animals actually had this tendency to avoid Akito unless he commanded them to come forward. They feared him—everyone feared him. But the dove did not. In fact, he noticed that Akito was being very careful with the little dove. As if responding to his thoughts, Akito held out his hand again. The dove landed there and in a flash, both hands tightened around its body. He could feel the little bird's heart racing, could feel it squirm as it tried to escape.

"You know, don't you?" he asked. The little bird's legs kicked and he felt its muscles working, trying to slip free of his trembling fingers.

"You know I could kill you right here with just a little more pressure…what's stopping me?"

The bird's body went slack. Hatori's instinct was to surge forward and rip the bird out of his grasp, but Akito released his grip on it the second he thought to move.

"What did you do to it?" Hatori demanded.

"Oh, calm down. I didn't hurt it. It just…."

Akito's face had paled even further. An uncomfortable nausea came over his stomach as he set it gently down on his covers. The creature's snowy white wings contrasted sharply with the dark blue blanket. Hatori knelt next to the bed and gently prodded the creature's chest for a heartbeat. It was there, slowing down, but steady and strong.

"I didn't hurt her…" Akito said quietly, almost pleading, "I wasn't really going to…"

Hatori frowned.

"How do you know it's a 'her'?" he asked.

"Just a feeling."

The dove twitched. Within the blink of an eye, it had flown away from the two men and settled on the windowsill. It tilted its head, regarding them warily now.

"She seems to be all right now, but you've frightened her," Hatori commented, "if you want her to trust you, you'll have to be more careful."

Akito actually felt something that he hadn't felt in years: guilt. It was only a tiny bit, but it was more than he'd felt in a long time. He held his hand out again, but the bird did not come. In fact, it flew away.

Hatori watched it go, wondering if it would come back.

"Stupid bird," Akito muttered, rolling over so that his back was to Hatori.

"If you need anything, have someone call me," Hatori said quietly, drawing the covers over his charge.

Akito muttered something unintelligible. His eyes had slid closed. The mental and emotional connection that bound all the Zodiac members to Akito was becoming fainter, more distant. It was always there, but it was less pronounced when he slept. It was through this series of invisible cords that he controlled them all.

Hatori left. On his way home, he spotted the bird—at least he thought it was the same one—in a cherry tree. Its white feathers shone softly, contrasting with the pastel pink of the blossoms. She glanced at him and the two held eye contact for longer than what would be considered normal.

You're not an ordinary bird, are you?

As if answering his thoughts, a ray of sunshine broke through the bank of clouds that was building up and shone on him.

It was no secret that Akito often took to his bed when he was particularly stressed out because it allowed him an escape from reality. As a result, he actually had a very well-developed imagination due to all the books he'd read. He'd often dream of visiting these places that he was too ill to visit in real life. As the golden sun made its way past the house, leaving a square of light on the floor, his mind escaped its bounds and traveled to the far-reaches of the world. But it came back to the gardens, a place that he'd always regarded as his true home. It was where he could sometimes forget about being ill and cursed.

This time, however, he wasn't alone. There was a woman there, kneeling at the edge of one of the ponds. She was giggling at the koi, who were swarming a chunk of bread she'd tossed in there. She watched the fish with rapt attention as if she'd never seen anything more fascinating. The gold light glinting off of their orange-yellow bodies was almost hypnotic to her. The spring breeze ruffled her already very messy hair. Though it was as dark black as his, the light gave the sloppy cloud of curls a bluish shine. Her skin was a pale ivory, but her cheeks were pink. She looked up at him with dark green eyes the color of moss.

"Who are you?! What are you doing on my property?!" he demanded.

"I saw the tops of the cherry trees," she said calmly, "and I just had to get a closer look. This garden is amazing…it's almost as beautiful as the one back home. It's a place a person could live in forever."

She shredded the rest of the bread she'd been holding and the fish went after it with gusto. Her laugh bubbled up from deep in her lungs.

"You couldn't read the sign?! You're not supposed to be here!" he snapped, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you arrested!"

She glanced up at him again.

"I just did," she told him, "it's a shame to keep a place as beautiful as this walled off from the rest of the world."

"It belongs to me! Now get out!" he snapped.

She looked at him with a genuinely puzzled expression, but did not move.

"Just you? No one else?"

"Yes! Now go on before I…"

He began to quiver with rage.

"Before you what?" she asked. He lunged at her and tried to seize her by the throat, but she seemed to slip out of his grasp easily. There was a flash of light and she disappeared just as his hands reached her.

"Before you what?" she asked gently. He nearly jumped out of his skin. She was behind him and he wasn't sure how she got there. He tried to snatch her again, but she pulled the same stunt. When he finally figured out where she'd gone this time, she was up in one of the trees. He glared at her as he watched her dangling upside down from one of the branches.

"This is a habit of yours, isn't it?" she asked, "Running people off. Holding what you do have very close to your heart so it can't be taken away. Walling everything up to the point of where you have no one to share it with."

"IT'S MINE! I'LL DO WHAT I WANT WITH IT!" He roared.

"I see. And what is it that you want?" she asked.

"FOR YOU TO GET OUT!"

He picked up a nearby rock and pitched it at her, but she caught it easily.

"Good arm," she observed, "let's see if you can catch as well as you throw."

She pitched it back at him. It would have nailed him in the gut if he'd been any slower. When he opened his hands, he stared. The rock started to crumble, but instead of being a bunch of ordinary gray gravel, it was as if something had been contained in it the entire time. A sparkling diamond, probably worth a lot of money, remained after the outer shell had broken off.

"What the…?"

The fury had fizzled for now, replaced by curiosity.

"How did you do that?" he asked, puzzled.

She grinned cryptically.

"Oh, I'm good at taking things people throw at me and turning them into something else. You should try it sometime. After all, it is your dream."

He tested the weight of the gem in his palm.

"I don't remember it feeling this real for a dream," he admitted. His palms were still stinging from the impact, still sweating from his temper explosion earlier. He could feel the breeze on his skin as well as the warmth from the sun. He could smell the cherry blossoms.

"Funny how that happens sometimes, isn't it? Well, I'd best be going now."

"Wait…"

She paused at the top of the fence.

"Who are you?" he asked, much more calm this time.

"My name is Melody," she told him.

"Melody what?"

"Just Melody."

She bounded over the top of the fence and was gone.

Akito's eyes opened. It was early evening judging by the light. He stretched, groaning at the heaviness of his limbs. He ached on the side he'd been lying on from having slept so long in one spot. When the feeling came back to his hand, he was puzzled. Something hard was clenched in his fist. Slowly uncurling his fingers, his eyes widened. There was a shining diamond in his palm.

…..

"That's quite a story," Hatori confessed, "I've never heard or seen anyone like this Melody you were describing. I hope you're not running another fever."

He placed the thermometer in Akito's mouth despite the younger not-quite-grown-man's protests. Akito sighed through his nose, expelling the air out in an annoyed puff. They waited in silence until the mercury crawled up the glass shaft. Hatori took it over to the lamp to examine it.

"This wasn't a hallucination," Akito snapped, frustrated, "it was real! And I have this to prove it!"

He slapped the gem into the older man's palm with more force than necessary. To Hatori's credit, he barely winced at all despite the harsh sting. Akito felt a mean little bit of satisfaction when Hatori's green eyes widened visibly upon seeing the diamond under the light. The rays glanced off the various facets and sent a rainbow of sparkles dancing over the walls, the floor, and the ceiling.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, stunned.

"I just told you that the girl gave it to me! Haven't you been listening?!" Akito snarled.

"All right, all right. It's just that this sort of thing…doesn't usually happen…"

Akito smacked his forehead and resisted the urge to throw something.

"Hatori, we live in a family that is cursed and where people turn into animals. I can see into every single one of your minds at a moment's notice. Can't you get it through your thick skull that 'what usually happens' isn't at all usual for us?!"

"I suppose you're right about that. But this Melody girl…how is it that there were plenty of people out and about this afternoon and not a single one of them mentioned her?"

"They'd be too scared," Akito muttered, "they wouldn't tell me, they'd just try to run her off."

"But you saw her and none of them did…I hear things all the time. When they think no one is listening, they talk about everything that goes on around here. Not one of them mentioned this blue-haired woman. And there weren't any bread crumbs floating in the pond when I went past it earlier."

"There wouldn't be. The fish would have eaten them."

Akito turned the diamond over in his hands, looking at the different colors it cast on the wall.

"I want you to find out who she is."

"All right, I'll do my best."

He heard the patronizing tone in Hatori's voice and wanted to punch him, but it wouldn't do any good. Hatori, he knew, was only going along with this because he, like everyone else, feared Akito. It should have made Akito feel better to know that he really would try because of that, but it just made him more frustrated. Why couldn't someone do something for him because they genuinely wanted to?

Like Tohru, a nasty little inner voice told him, and you rewarded her by almost ripping her hair out.

Akito didn't say anything else. Outside, an explosive clap of thunder announced the coming of a storm. He huddled in his over-sized robes and clenched his teeth. Thunderstorms were annoying and this would be two nights in a row that he didn't sleep well.

"Is there anything else you need?" Hatori asked.

"No. Just go."

Akito stood, holding onto the wall for support. He walked over to the sliding door and opened it just enough to peer out. The rain was coming down in sheets and a big gust of wind whipped around him. He shivered and quickly slammed it shut. His face had been bathed in swirling raindrops and he wiped it dry on the sleeve of his robe. The bright red made his skin seem even paler in the scant light.

A fluttering noise got his attention. There, in the sill of the window, was the dove. She was soaked and trying to seek refuge there, but she was still getting wet. Rain water spattered the floor as the wind whipped it inside. He muttered to himself about how dumb Hatori was for not closing the thing though it was half-hearted.

"You're pretty brave, coming back here," he told her, "especially after what I did to you earlier. You're either really brave or really stupid."

She shook her wings, trying to shake the water out.

"Why don't you just come inside so I can close the damn window?" he asked her. She didn't move.

"Come on," he muttered, "hurry up before we both get wet!"

He held out his palm. She seemed to have some reservations before stepping into it, but he waited. Once she was on there, he made no attempt to close his hand, instead, trying not to make any sudden movements. With the other hand, he managed to get the window closed. The storm seemed more muted and further away now, the rain actually sounding more gentle than it was. He really despised this part of spring, but it helped the garden grow at least.

"Hold still," he said, irritated by all the flapping she was doing to try and dry off, "it's your own fault, you know, for not finding a place to stay out of the rain."

He dried her off. She eyed the towel with some uncertainty, but he was careful just as Hatori had told him to be. After a few moments, she wasn't soaked anymore, but just a little bit damp. He stroked her feathers, barely touching them at all at first. He felt her twitch and thought she would fly away, but she didn't.

"I didn't order you to come back," he said, "and I didn't feed you, either. Why did you come back?"

Of course, there was silence. Inside, though, he knew she had done so because she wanted to. It had been the same as Tohru—she'd wanted to come today even though she knew she might pay for doing so. Both of them certainly had a lot more nerve than he'd initially guessed. And that Melody girl…he glanced over at the diamond still sitting on the desk. She'd had a lot of nerve as well. Even visitors to this area would overhear stories about the Sohmas and stay away. Three people…entities…beings…in one day. As he stroked the bird's soft wings, he wondered why. Something had certainly changed overnight. Maybe it had something to do with that damn cat.

Hatori wasn't sure why he felt the need to tell anyone. Perhaps it was because he'd kept things to himself for so long. Perhaps it was that deep down he knew a miracle when he saw one. Maybe it was something else. The events of today had unnerved him a bit.

"Shigure, I'm…concerned…if he hadn't had the diamond, I would have been able to pass it off as one of his fever dreams. And then there was that dove…someone told me it was still there this morning. Akito won't let it out of his sight and it won't leave anyway."

"That is unusual," Shigure had to admit, "is there any potential at all that someone in the Zodiac could have been overlooked?"

"None," Hatori said, "I know every single one of them. I made it a priority to know them all in case something ever came up. It's my job as the guardian…it comes with the territory. But there's certainly enough evidence that this isn't a normal bird. It hasn't left any droppings anywhere and it seems to understand what we're saying. I mentioned trying to send it away earlier and it pecked me."

Shigure chuckled.

"Apparently, it wants to leave on its own terms. Are you sure that Akito isn't using his god influence on it? He's done it before."

"Yes, but that was different. The animals that he forced to come to him would always leave if his concentration wavered. It was still hanging around him this morning—he says it was there when he woke up. And then there was the matter of the dream he had last night."

"Dream?"

"Yes…there was a strange bluish-black-haired girl—"

"—with green eyes and a newsboy cap," Shigure finished for him, "I dreamed about her, too. What do you suppose that was all about?"

While the two men were talking and the rest of the Sohma household was waking up, something was happening out in the woods, something that no one but the real God Himself knew about.

It was about nine in the morning when said girl was coming up the walk. She adjusted her cap nervously, wishing she didn't have so many butterflies in her stomach. It wasn't the first time she'd been in a situation like this, but it was yet only the second. She felt as if she'd never quite get the hang of it and would probably make many mistakes. She placed her suitcase next to her foot and raised a hesitant hand to knock. There was an enormous gate in the way and she wasn't sure if anyone was on the other side. Exactly how did one get inside? She thought of climbing over it, but nerves made her weak and that wall looked far too high. She felt foolish for doing so, but was about to rap on it when it swung open, making her jump.

"Oh! Hello! I didn't realize anyone was back there," she said, voice high-pitched and shaky.

Hatori raised an eyebrow. He masked his surprise well.

"Whom exactly am I speaking to?"

"My name is Melody, Melody…" she paused, glancing down at a folder she held in her hand, "…Myers. I…uh…came for the …uh…assistant position."

"Assistant position?" Hatori was genuinely puzzled. What on earth was she talking about? As if realizing he doubted her, she offered a newspaper clipping. It was from yesterday's paper. Right there in the classified ads was a request for an assistant, very cryptically worded. Below was the phone number for his office as well as the address.

"Yeah…this one right here. I did come to the right place, didn't I? I do get lost easily."

"Yes, this is the right place, but I don't remember—"

A noisy clap of thunder cut them off and rain began to pour down in buckets.

"Why don't you come inside?"

She picked up her suitcase and followed him. He'd had to practically shout in order to be heard above the din.

Sohma House loomed ahead, an enormous labyrinth. The main house was actually several houses that had been joined together. Each family had a separate segment of it, but it could be traveled through as if it were one unit. Hatori was very reluctant to take her there, but he didn't have much choice. Wishing he knew what on earth was going on, he stepped aside to let her in. She respectfully stepped out of her black ballet flats without being told and followed him. A couple of housemaids looked at her, wide-eyed, and skittered away.

"What was up with that?" she asked.

"They're…not used to strangers," Hatori said evasively, "this way. You can leave your things in the office."

She placed the case by the door and settled into the chair he offered her.

"Now then, I'm sorry you had to come all this way for nothing, but I'm not entirely sure where the ad came from. I'm in charge of this office and I really wasn't looking for anyone else to fill the position right now. You could check by the hospital in town, though. They usually have plenty of—"

His gentle let-down was interrupted when the door burst open with a noisy bang. One of the maids was there, shaking and pale.

"Hatori!" was all she had to say. Hatori sprang up from his chair and followed her.

"You'll have to let yourself out," he said quickly, "I'm sorry, but I have to go now."

The girl stared after them in confusion.

"Wait!"

He ignored her. Hearing his pulse beating in his ears as it always did, he interrogated the maid as he followed her.

"What happened?"

"I was bringing him his breakfast and I found him all curled up in the floor. I suppose he was on his way to the bathroom, but he didn't make it. He looks terrible! He was in so much pain that he couldn't speak!"

Akito had woken up not feeling well. This was never news to him, as it happened quite a bit. He had only just noticed that his pet dove was gone when the nausea had come in a crippling wave. He'd started to make the sprint to the bathroom across the hall when the agonizing pain had brought him to his knees. It seared through his middle and seemed to spread. His heart had started to thunder and cold sweat came out on his skin, making him look like a wax figure. He was vaguely aware of throwing up at least once, but it was only acid, as he hadn't eaten anything recently. As his vision began to blur and darken, he was just able to make out the maid that was standing over him, her horrified mouth open in a perfect O.

"H-Hatori…" he gasped out, unable to say more. She sprinted away, leaving him there to tremble.

The girl had followed them all the way up the hall, but Hatori no longer even noticed her. His gaze locked onto what had been the biggest trial of his life: Akito. Despite all the ways Akito had managed to make him miserable, he rarely felt bitterness or anger at the boy. That's really all he was: a sad, scared little boy in a not-quite-grown-man's body. Akito was balled up so completely that no one could get a good look at his face. His robes fanned out around him, making him look even smaller than he already was. He was grunting in pain and the bitter, acidic stench of vomit tainted the air. He was trembling as if his very bones would rattle apart. Hatori knew they had to get him to the hospital area, but he was afraid to touch him for fear he'd hurt him worse. Just as he was trying to formulate a way to move him quickly, the girl knelt next to Akito. Tears were trickling through the tightly-squeezed-shut eyelids. The girl stroked his dark hair back from his face, concern clouding her features.

"You hurt pretty bad right now, don't you?" she asked gently.

If Akito had been able to speak, he'd have shouted at her what an idiot she was. As it was, he was afraid if he opened his mouth now, he'd scream bloody murder and never be able to stop.

She gently tugged the front of his robes open. Since his arms were crossed so tightly over his belly, she couldn't get more than that. Squeezing her hand into the space, she forced it between his tightly clenched arms and his bloated belly. Then, something happened. It was nearly invisible, something that none of them could really see so much as feel. Akito grunted as the pain actually grew worse for a split second, then it all seemed to be concentrating where her hand was. Little by little, it began to diminish. Akito's eyelids fluttered and he was able to see the girl through the tears of pain, though her face was smeared like an Impressionist painting. His hand closed over hers, intending to shove it away, but he lacked the strength. Someone gently lifted him and he was vaguely aware of Hatori's face. He let his eyes slide closed again, drawing in deep lungfuls of air as the pain continued to ease. It still hurt, but he was able to think around it at last.

"What did you just do to him?" Hatori asked, dumbfounded. Normally, it took a large dose of pain medicine to help Akito when he had these spells. He placed Akito on one of the beds and gave said injection just in case it came back.

The girl ignored his question, her hand still on his belly. He noticed that her complexion had paled considerably since this episode had started, but he supposed she'd been frightened. He himself was feeling a little shaky.

"Porphyria," she said, as if reading a book, "a very, very unusual form of it."

He stared, open-mouthed, but only for a second. He had to get Akito stabilized again, give him a glucose drip. He couldn't stand around asking questions just yet.

"Will you stay with him just for a second?" Hatori asked.

"I'd be glad to."

He rushed off to get the supplies, leaving the two of them there. Akito tried to push her hand away, but he felt too weak.

"Who are you?" he demanded, voice raspy.

She only gave him a sad smile and continued to stroke his hair.