AN: So I was looking through my fic journal and I found this. After reading it and despite seeing the 1/? on its title, I decided to upload it here as is. I'm not sure if I'll continue the story but I think it closed well. Forgive me for any mistakes, I haven't caught up with the manga (but I do know of Akito's gender!) in awhile so out of character-ness most likely abounds. Please note that this story was written back in 2004 and I am only now uploading it here.

The scenery was bleak all around him. The trees were bare of any leaves, looking like skinned carcasses standing tall in a world void of light and life. He stood, seemingly, at the center of it all. His dark thick winter coat hugging his body, a soft cotton scarf wrapped and stuffed into the collar of it as his breath came out in small puffs of mist; it was as if he'd stepped into an American novel. Tales of wagon trains stuck for weeks on ends in an unforgiving mountain summoned themselves in his mind. Fear, hunger and insanity sinking into their minds until they turned on each other, feeding off the flesh of friends in order to survive, not even humans were an exception in the law of survival of the fittest. Swatting those thoughts away, his dark eyes searching through the grouping of trees, he found that he wasn't bothered by the cold at all. The chill of the open area bit onto his skin underneath his layers of clothes but he merely walked on, his boots sinking slightly into the two inches of snow from the night before. He had gotten used to the cold. Blinking his eyes slowly, casting his gaze across the lines of trees before him, he returned to his earlier thought.

The cold does not bother him, metaphorically or not, he had simply accepted it. Being alone, being surrounded by others, not letting others close to him, he had accepted it as a part of himself as a part of the cursed he carried. He blamed no one because there was no one to be blamed. He could simply turn to Akito in anger and blame the lost of Kana on the Head Souma's shoulders. He could lash out, he could rebel, he could scream and rant at the feeling of losing the person most precious to him, to make Akito understand what he had taken away. Yet he did not simply because Akito was not at fault. It had never been Akito's fault. Akito had only acted to what he saw fit; what he thought was the right thing to do, what was his right to do. Blaming Akito would do nothing. Yet if he were to blame anyone, it would be himself he would blame. It had been his selfish thought that perhaps he could find happiness with Kana that had dragged her down with him. Putting himself above all others, he had risked her safety thinking that if he had her, nothing else mattered. It was that thought that had brought unto him the lost of his eye and Kana's memory. He had done all those things and he accepted his impaired vision as his punishment. Akito's rage and Kana's lost of her memories were to be blamed upon him.

Walking deeper into the forest, making his way to the large lake that had long frozen over during the course of the winter season, Hatori's mind drifted back to the months before when he had paid a visit to the Souma summer home. Shigure and Ayame had both been there, both wanting to hear his thoughts on Kana's wedding. His cousins, while both true morons in their own right, would sometimes have moments like those. Times were they were able to stop being ridiculously amusing fools around each other long enough to talk seriously about a single matter that weighed on their minds. However, those serious moments were only ever shown to Hatori himself. Whether if it was because they wished to not show that part of themselves towards others or not did not matter to him, Shigure and Ayame had always been like that. It didn't surprise him to find them plotting to distract his mind from Kana's wedding. He didn't blame them for thinking that he might still have brooding thoughts about her.

However, like everything else, he had accepted it that the moment he had erased Kana's memories of their time together that there was no way they would ever rekindle. He didn't long to have those times with her back; while they were memories that would put a heavy weigh upon his heart at times, they were more than enough. Seeing her now, knowing that there might be a moment where she would recognize him, a split second where her mind might flash an image before her eyes and cause her to relapse into the pain and agony of the past was not something he wanted to put her through. Once had been enough. Once had taken away her joy and her smiles and to take that all away again, to pull her back into his coldness and watch as she broke once more before him would not only kill her but himself as well. He refused to do that. He refused to cause more pain to the person who had brought such peace in his life. Those memories that some might think be painful for him to hold onto alone were enough to last him a lifetime. In all of his life, Hatori had never once asked for anything. He had never wished for anything as much as he did during the moments he gazed down at Kana's still form.

Please, God… let her be happy.

Truer words had never been said. That was all he wanted and that was what she found. Even if it wasn't with him, just being able to catch a glimpse of her smiling as she passed him by put his heart at ease. It was almost as if he had been forgiven for the things he'd done. Those moments of the past, secret minutes when she once looked up into his eyes and warmed him with her smile didn't feel as if they were tearing his heart apart. Those memories no longer weigh his mind down but instead have turned into fond memories.

As he trekked through the forest, he mused that that was probably why he felt more at ease with the coldness around him. No matter how hard things had been in the past, the hardships, the pain and the tears that shed, there was always relief from it all at the end. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel as the saying goes and he now understood it.

"May I ask you a question?" Brown eyes gazed out the windows where the snow was slowly falling. He could see her reflection on the window as she looked on in wonder. Sighing quietly, he waited for her to continue. "When snow melts, what does it become?"

He stood there a moment and simply gave the girl a blank stare. Closing his eyes as he let out another quiet breath, he placed a file onto his desk. "It becomes water."

"Wrong!" A singsong voice perked up as the girl, Kana, turned to him with a pleased smile.

He turned and looked at her slowly.

"It becomes spring!"

When the snow melts, it becomes spring. Of all the things he remembered about Kana that was the one thing that stuck with him the most. When the snow melts, it becomes spring. Seasons change gradually into another as the days pass by. As the Earth turned on its axis, the weather will change from one extreme to another. Spring will soon become warmer as summer approached from behind, followed by autumn bringing relief to the scorched lands and soon winter will lay everything to rest only to repeat it once again with the coming of spring. Seasons change and so do people. Just as slowly, people will grow and either adapt or realize things they themselves have not realized before. Not one season will last longer than any other. Winter will not always be winter as it will soon have to give way to the sun and the snow will melt; what once was ice will turn into water and feed into the land it once froze over. From the waters of winter, the seeds of spring will grow and life will begin anew.

Honda Tohru, a mere outsider, has proven to him that she alone could – can – do that. Kyou and Yuki, have grown up ever since she entered their lives. No, they all have changed, have grown in the strange warmth the young girl gave readily to them. Her unrestrained affections reached out and touched them, warming them up and causing them to realize that given the chance, people would accept them as they were. She was like a small pebble skipping across a still lake. Though the ripples she made were small, they ran deep and spread out in all directions. With her simple ways, she changed their lives. That girl had the ability to make people realize how important the small things in life were. For all of her clueless appearances, she had the knack to say exactly the right thing at the right moment, something Hatori admit most of the younger Souma's lacked. Though he placed his trust in her, he silently hoped she will be strong enough to face the full weight of their curse when the time came to it and he silently hoped that time would never come. He hoped that all three of them would be strong enough to face it and Akito. He only had the ability to look over them and console them should they seek it, the rest depended on them.

When snow melts, it becomes spring. As Hatori neared the lake, spotting its solid surface in the distance, he wondered briefly if the ice was beginning to thaw.

When he had woken up earlier that morning, the thought of driving up to the summer home in the middle of winter was hardly in his mind at all. His day had proceeded as it always had. Awake almost before the crack of dawn, he hadn't expected a phone call so early. Then again, looking back on it now as he stopped at the bank of the frozen lake, he mused that he probably should have expected a call from Ayame regardless of the time. He could swear that even before he'd picked up the phone, his cousin was already speaking. Somewhere between the lines of, "Good morning, Tori-san!" and "But enough about me, I have a brilliant plan!" Hatori found himself agreeing to a 'quiet' break. He suspected that Momiji had more than a hand in this. The young boy, while innocent and childish in all appearances, can be quiet the schemer. He's spending too much time over at Shigure's. Hatori had thought absentmindedly as he held the phone away from his ear; catching Ayame's excited voice every now and then.

When he brought up the subject of having to stay closer to Akito now that the weather was colder, though, Ayame simply said they could ask Shigure to return to the main house for a day. Shigure was, and always had been, glad of any distraction that would keep him from his task of completing his latest novel. There were times where Hatori wondered if the two planned things excessively ahead of time just so they can both get him to do something. He really wouldn't put that pass them, knowing his cousins. However, Shigure being Shigure gave Hatori a little gift before he waved them off with a white tissue. At the shore, I wait was the title. Hatori had given Shigure a blank look when the other dark haired man held it out to him, face blooming with a wide grin.

"… do I want to know?"

"Of course not, Ha-san! You'll have to read to find out!"

"I'm going to read it?"

"Of course, Ha-san!"

"I don't recall being your editor, Shigure."

"How cruel, Ha-san!"

Letting out a soft breath, a fond quirk appearing on the corner of his mouth, Hatori let his eyes scan the lake, searching for the two people he'd come out all this way for. The lake, while barely even half of it was already frozen over on the surface, was large, larger than Hatori had remembered. From where he stood, Hatori could faintly see the other bank over the steady waters. Walking along the edge, eyes skimming around to catch a glimpse of anything familiar, he soon reached a small inland nook of the lake where the water had completely frozen solid from bottom to top. It was also there that he found Momiji and Ayame, bustling about trying to gather as much snow as they could to place onto of the center solid body of water. The two were near giggling, grins adorning their faces, noses almost as red as cherries as they went about their task. Looking closely, Hatori noticed a rather large un-uniformed ball of snow.

Exhaling a breath of air, he shook his head. Only these two would think about building a snowman at the center of a small lake.

He made no move to let them know he was there yet, however. Merely watching, Hatori let his gaze fall on Momiji. The young German boy was decked in what Hatori had to admit the most colorful outfit he had ever seen. It didn't take a genius to figure that Ayame had dressed him up. After he had found out from Hatsuharu what type of store Ayame actually managed, he voluntarily offered to model for Ayame's younger outfits. Needless to say, both of them – not to mention Mine, the woman was almost about as eccentric as Ayame himself at times – often times had too much fun surprising Hatori with any new design Ayame was able to finish up for the day. Making Momiji pose near the front door whenever it was time for Hatori to pick him up, both grinning widely at him while Hatori stared unblinking at the little blonde boy that was put under his care until he merely had become used to their games. At least, Hatori had thought then, he isn't making Momiji walk the catwalk.

Ayame seemed to enjoyed the young Souma's company as much as Momiji himself did his older cousin. He would never say it but watching them babble endlessly among themselves made him smile. It was probably strange to see the two of them get along so well; while both were endlessly cheerful, their personalities were not exactly that much alike. However, the two seemed to have embraced themselves as what they were – the Junishi -- and perhaps through that, it was easier for them to simply accept people just as they were. Momiji for all of his childish joys and giggles, had to grow up because of circumstances that were out of his hands. It was neither his nor his mother's fault that she rejected him as much as she did and he knew that. He had to accept that and he had grown old all too quickly with that knowledge. There was once a time where Hatori wondered if the young boy loathed him for doing what he did but he only thanked Hatori. He only thanked Hatori; holding Hatori's hand in his smaller ones, Momiji had smiled up at him and thanked him.

"Hari, thank you. You made Mutti better." He had said, his eyes warmer than they should have been.

Somehow, seeing the younger Souma smile up at him without a single drop of sadness in his eyes made it all the worse.

"Aya, help me put this snow bunny on top!" Momiji called out towards the taller Souma.

Ayame all but bounced forward, smiling down at Momiji as the younger boy showed off his little snow bunny. As Ayame's praises on Momiji's handiwork sprouted from the pale man's mouth, Hatori turned his eyes towards his cousin. Already naturally, or at times unnaturally, pale, Ayame's skin along with his oddly near silver-white colored hair stood out against the backdrop of bare brown trees surrounding them. He was wrapped in a black velvet cheongsam underneath his deep burgundy colored fur coat. Fake fur. Ayame abhorred real fur and leather, speaking passionately about those subjects over the phone one night when he couldn't sleep because he was watching a fashion show on the television. So of course, he called Hatori. Being woken up abruptly, and rudely, in the middle of the night, Hatori couldn't stay awake, even with Ayame's loud voice droning on in his ears. When he woke up, it was to the sound of the operator telling him to redial. Ayame was up and about in Hatori's office, pacing about, speaking of the injustice of it all.

"Real fur, Tori-san! Real fur!"

"Animal fur has been used for centuries as a way to keep warm, Ayame. This isn't something new."

"How could you say that, Tori-san?! While I understand the need to use whatever means you can to achieve the maximum affect you want to make on your designs, I must object to the use of animal skin and fur!"

Watching the pale man from the corner of his eyes, Hatori stirred his tea. "You should show that face around Yuki more often."

Blinking, Ayame turned to look at him. "Eh?"

"That sort of determination… instead of shoving yourself into his face, you should be more serious, Ayame."

The next day, Ayame told Yuki they were boycotting fur.

Ayame was not stupid. As hard to believe as that was, Ayame was sharp and well aware of the things around him. It was simply much easier for him to behave the way he did. Or rather, Ayame had learned that behaving the way he did brought attention to himself and Ayame loved attention. He adored it when people praised him of his wonderful skills, of his long hair and his grace. There was nothing better to Ayame than hearing people adoring him, watching as their eyes glowed as he passed by. Ayame was hardly born arrogant, he learned to become flamboyant. It came from being overlooked by his mother. Ayame got his looks from his mother, no one could deny this as they resembled each other so much; however, that was where the resemblance ended. Ayame and Yuki's mother was a prideful woman. She wanted to birth a Mouse to receive the blessing from the Head Souma yet instead she brought life to a Snake. While he didn't exactly know in extensive detail how Ayame's childhood had been, it was safe to assume that because of the lack of attention from his mother, Ayame learned that in order for him to be noticed, he had to shove himself out into the world. When Yuki came around, Ayame had more or less detached himself from his family, loving the freedom he had gained himself and the attention he so rightfully deserved.

Though Ayame never thought twice about Yuki there was one thing Hatori knew was true above all else.

Ayame never hated Yuki.

After all, it was impossible to hate a complete stranger. And while they weren't exactly strangers, it was how it appeared to be. Ayame, if he didn't have to, would rarely if at all cast his gaze onto his brother and Yuki, after a time, had stopped looking towards Ayame. The valley between the two brothers was wide and deep. He knew Ayame often questioned himself about what right he had to storm back into Yuki's life when Yuki might as well never had existed in his eyes before; the pale man regretted deeply the past he could not change. While Hatori was glad to see Ayame coming to his senses and trying to rebuild the bond that was never there, he often wanted to hit his head against a wall at the games Ayame would play around his brother. Yuki, mature and smart that he was, was not himself nor Shigure. Yuki did not know how to react to a loud Ayame who's mere presences sometimes caused others to feel as if a they were on stage and the lights above them had been set too brightly for their eyes. Even so, Ayame is learning. Slowly, very slowly, he was starting to understand that jumping out from behind Yuki and demanding the boy to proclaim his undying affections for his older brother was quite out of the question. If Ayame wanted to show Yuki he was sincere, Ayame would have to be the person he is when he is around Hatori and Shigure. And that, Hatori knew, was something even Ayame himself was not prepared for. However, as long as Ayame's heart was in the right direction, time was on his side. He may have lost Yuki's childhood but Hatori knew, given enough time, Ayame would soon be allowed into his older years and be the older brother he wanted so desperately to be.

A sudden sharp and freezing object smacked itself against his scarf and neck causing Hatori to start out of his thoughts. Raising a hand and dusting off the flakes of ice, Hatori glanced at the giggling duo from under his dark bangs; Momiji and Ayame were standing beside their finished snowman and as he looked on, Hatori could feel the urge to sigh rising from his guts. The snowman, standing about as tall as Ayame himself was as typical as a snowman can be. Save for the snow bunny resting on top his head and the snake sketched in around where his neck would be. As he continued to stare at the supposed replica of himself, Hatori slid his gloved hands back into his pockets as he approached them.

If he remembered the time correctly, Ayame and Momiji had been outside for around twenty to thirty-five minutes; fifty-five now what with him searching for them and ending up watching them behave like children. He wondered briefly how he'd allowed them to stand in the cold, knowing Ayame's proneness to transforming and even hurting himself in the winter weather. A brief instance where a pair of golden eyes coupled with large brown ones staring up at him with a silent plea answered his question. He would never, Hatori silently vowed, allow them to find out how hard it was to refuse them anything when they did that. He would never live it down.

"You're both going to catch a cold," he muttered as he came to a stop, standing above the dip of the bank where the ice water froze into the land.

He was greeted with twin beaming smiles and for not the second time in his life, Hatori was glad no one else was around. They would be blinded by the brilliant sparkles and bubbles that seemingly surrounded the pair as they stood proudly beside their snowman. Sighing, a puff of air escaping his mouth, Hatori couldn't help but let a small smile grace his lips. There are times where Momiji and Ayame were too cute for their own, and his mostly his, good.

"Stop grinning. We're heading back before you both get sick."

"Aw, but Hari!" Momiji began.

Glancing at the boy, Hatori raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't it your idea to bring me here to relax, Momiji? Both of you getting sick wouldn't do me any good, would it?"

Sometimes Hatori wondered what horror stories the boy told Ayame to get him to come visit. Then he found that he really didn't want to know.

"Non, non, that would defeat the purpose of Operation Happy Tori-san!" Ayame chirped in, index finger pointing proudly into the air. Placing a hand on Momiji's shoulder, Ayame winked at his younger cousin. "We'll have a slumber party!"

Throwing his arms in the air with a squeal, Momiji hopped in place, the long sleeves of his shirt covering his hands as he nodded in excitement. What other word Momiji was about to say was halted abruptly when the boy twitched his nose and sneezed loudly and in that instant the blonde boy was replaced with a blonde brown ear-tipped bunny looking sheepishly – if rabbits could ever look sheepish – up at Hatori.

"Ah! Momi--!" Another sneeze and Hatori sensed that his day off was just another day in babysitting both Ayame and Momiji.

However, as he stood above them and gazed into their sad animal eyes, he couldn't seem to find himself feel too exhausted. That didn't mean he didn't shake his head as he picked them up and sighed.

"What did I say?"

When they finally reached the summer house, Hatori with Momiji on his head and Ayame around his neck, the two had already fast fallen asleep. It was nighttime when he finally tucked them into their beds, setting their clothes on the nightstand before he left their rooms. He sat outside on the balcony now; leaning back against the bench with a cigarette between his fingers, Hatori exhale a cloud of smoke into the night air as he watched the stars above. He wondered what prompted Momiji to lure Ayame into making them take this trip. Tapping his fingers on the wooden table, the ash of his cigarette falling into the ashtray at the motion, he leaned his head to the side, eyes closing as he listened to his surroundings. Whatever the reason, Hatori found that being out here, away from the confiding walls of the Souma Household, away from the troubles of being the family doctor, away from worries and burdens that dragged his shoulders down was nice. He was thankful for Momiji, Shigure, Ayame and the rest of his cousin at times. If it were not for them and their determination not to let him lock himself up within the main Souma house, he would have quite literally worked himself day and night. However, with the healthcare of his family on his hands, Hatori refused to let himself slack off. He cared for them; stubborn, idiots, clueless, childish and near insane as they were, they were his family.

He heard the screen door open and the sound of china hitting against the hard surface of the table then the smell of hot brewing tea.

"You shouldn't be outside, Ayame." He scolded lightly, eyes remaining closed.

There was a soft breath and the pale man sat down beside him; Hatori heard rather than saw the tea being poured for him. Parting his eyelids lightly, he glanced over at Ayame; his hair casting a shadow over his face. Ayame had wrapped himself in his thick blanket, dressed now in thick long sleeves of his turtleneck underneath his robe. Hatori couldn't see his face for the man had the blanket up and around his head also; what strands of hair Hatori could see, though, swayed in the night wind. Ayame's lips parted as he spoke in his deep voice.

"You shouldn't be outside either, Tori-san."

"Mm." Hatori reached out, curling his fingers around the tea cup; feeling the heat of it burning into his skin, he brought the drink up to his lips. Taking a sip, he placed it back down. "What did Momiji tell you this time?"

There was a soft sheepish chuckle as Ayame bowed his head, the blanket slid down, finally revealing his pale cousin's smile.

"He said you were turning into a bag of bones. That your eyes have sunk in and you've lost your ability to speak."

"Hm. Not as bad as the first few."

There was a pause before Ayame spoke, his voice soft. "We're only concerned, Tori-san. You know yourself better than others. Sometimes you forget about yourself."

Glancing at Ayame, Hatori exhaled another cloud of smoke, resting his right arm on the back of the bench. "Doctors know how to take care of themselves, Ayame."

But you don't, Tori-san. Those words hung clear and heavy in the night air. Though Ayame knew he didn't need to say it, Hatori heard him clearly. Bringing his left hand up, running his ring finger along his brow, Hatori sighed. His cigarette hung limply between his fingers.

"You're always looking after others," Ayame began quietly, fingers interlocked on the table before him. "You're always there to care for everyone, Tori-san."

"It's what I do," Hatori answered simply.

A frown crossed Ayame's features. "Yes but Tori-san… you're always there to listen. No matter what… everyone eventually comes to you to tell their problems but Tori-san…" his voice lowered as he rubbed his thumbs together. "Tori-san… no one listens to you. Sometimes, I wonder if you even have problems but then I think, of course you do! Everyone has problems but we don't know that, do we? Gure-san… me, I know, I know we cause a lot of trouble for you but…"

"Ayame." Hatori cut in, suddenly; his voice was soft as he tilted his head back to gaze at the stars.

There was another pause as Ayame quieted himself down. He didn't speak for awhile but Hatori knew he was still brooding over the words he was gathering in his mind. And Hatori waited, his cigarette burning slowly in his fingers as a cold wind blew over them.

"Yes?"

"It's enough that you know you cause some of my problems."

"But Tori-san—"

Hatori glanced over, then. "Are you cold?"

There was a short pause as Ayame looked at him and blinked at the question. "… kind of." He smiled cheekily. "But I have this wonderfully thick blanket so I'm really—"

Hatori reached out his right hand and slid it slowly behind the back of Ayame's neck; his cousin's hair felt soft as it brushed against his fingers as he pressed his thumb lightly against the large vein of Ayame's neck. There was a sharp intake of air; golden eyes dimmed by the moonlight widen a fraction at the sudden touch as Ayame went still beneath his hand.

"I'm cold." He murmured quietly.

However, his only answer was the sound pyon and a pile of clothes where Ayame once sat. Looking down at the lump of blankets and clothes, Hatori sighed quietly as a small head peeked out and large unblinking black eyes peered up at him. Shaking his head, feeling a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, Hatori gathered his cousin into his arms and stood up.

"Ayame." He murmured as he closed the door behind him.

"Yes, Tori-san?" Came a hushed reply.

Standing in the darken room with the bundle in his arms, Hatori mused over his words and only ended up with the one thing he can truly say to the person, to the people, who went so much out of their way to make sure he was still himself, that he could still be happy.

"I want you to be two thousand times happier than Kana-kun!"

"Thank you."

A small grey tail wrapping around his arm was the smile Ayame answered him with.