The title comes from the song "Falling Away With You" by Muse.
His palms are sweaty. Tohru walks beside him in her black, mourning dress. The wind blows, throwing cherry blossoms across the stone path. They make him uneasy. But maybe he was like that already. His breathing comes heavier. What is he doing? He thought he could. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he thought he could. He stops.
"Tohru."
She turns to him, her eyes wide and open.
"I don't think I can do this."
Her eyebrows crease, and her head turns to the side. "You don't have to if you're not ready."
He stares at his shoes. Black and white. Not very dressy. He wonders what she would say if she were here right now. Would she have picked them out? Would she have paid for them? Probably not. But he can never be sure, not anymore. Has he forgiven himself? A pink petal floats down onto the laces.
"No, I… I am."
He feels her tender touch on his arm and looks up.
"I don't want to force you into something you don't want to do."
He smirks, but it lacks sincerity. "You're hardly forcing me. It was my idea."
She smiles at him in that special Tohru-way that she has, a smile solely for someone else's sake. Her fingers slide down his arm and his wrist and his palm and entwine with his own. "Sometimes, it helps me to simply remember my mom, the things that she liked and disliked, her favorite foods, things she liked to do. What are some things you remember about her?"
Kyo thinks, but it's difficult to concentrate with her hand in his. "I don't know. It was so long ago."
"O-oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think of that! Of course, it would be difficult to remember details like that – I am so sorry!"
"Leeks."
Torhu stops, looks at him.
"She liked leeks. I think. We ate them all the time. I was sick of them by the time I went to Shishou's. Just the smell makes me nauseous."
Tohru doesn't say or do anything. She only listens.
"She didn't like me watching TV. She said it was full of bad stuff. But I don't know what kind of bad stuff she was talking about. I still don't watch it much."
He pauses, thinks, and then hesitates. Tohru watches him silently, letting him continue.
"A lot of times, when I would have a nightmare and get up, I would find her crying in the kitchen by herself, and I would wonder where my father was and why he wasn't comforting her. And I would curl up in the hall, and we'd… cry together, but I don't think she ever knew I was there." Tohru's eyes are watery. He knows he should stop for her sake. He watches the cherry blossoms fall to the ground, inevitably. People only admire them when they're attached or floating, but once they're in the dirt, they're endlessly stepped on by not-quite-dressy black and white shoes. "I haven't visited her grave in long time. A really long time."
Tohru waits for him to say something more. He doesn't. So she asks, "Do you want to?"
Kyo thinks. "I should."
"That may be true. But do you want to?"
The corner of his mouth comes up. "That's my line."
She smiles but still waits for an answer.
"Yeah. I guess."
She waits for him to take the first step and holds his hand as he does, her warmth giving him strength. He breathes deeply as they walk, and the fresh air helps. The cherry blossoms float down and brush his skin and hers, and he wonders if he ever felt so comforted by his mother as he does now by the woman beside him.
Kyo's relationship with his mom has always interested me, and I truly hope this fic did it justice. Thank you for reading. Reviews make a writer's day!