Author's note:

I love Kareshi Kanojo no Jijo. It's my favorite anime, and one of my favorite manga. I'm in love with all the characters and all their neuroses. Please forgive my use of them, and the non-canon quality of my story. The recent events in the manga have made me take another look at a bit character; a woman who is having her life turned upside down just as Souichiro is. So here you have it: Arima-mama's story.

Thank you to: Annie. ^_^ You are the best, girl.

I don't know if hospitals are for-profit in Japan like they can be here in the US, but if Arima is so rich, they must be right? Everything else is medically correct, I should know, I watch ER. ^_~

Disclaimer: Unlike Yukino, I have no desire to get-rich-quick and if I did, it wouldn't be through fic. Read: I make no money from this, it's all for fun. ^_~ Gainax are otaku. They understand.

In Loco Parentis by Antigone

When I met Souji it was my first marriage-meeting, and his seventh. My mother came home from the hospital, still in her immaculate white nurse's uniform, glowing the dark of the kitchen. I offered her a bowl of green tea over rice, sitting in the doorway on my knees as if I was a wife already. My father died when I was twelve, and the money from mother's nursing job put food on the table, so I kept house.

She was happy, all aflutter telling me about the meeting she arranged, with the hospital president's son no less! Apparently my mother caught the eye of the boss with her gentle disposition, and he would come and talk to her. He mentioned none of the women he tried to introduce to his son made much of an impression. At twenty-six, his son was getting on in years and needed a wife. And a child.

I was just twenty. In those days, a few bold women were going to top schools, with ambition I never could have. I was happy at home with my brothers and my books, never dreamed of much more.

 When I first heard about the marriage-meeting, my heart drummed in my chest and I protested to the best of my ability. "Mother, you need me here," I said, but I knew it was no use. My mother wasn't looking at the urgency in my eyes, but wondering if their unusually dark color would entice the Arima son into marriage. I knew it had to happen eventually, but like any young girl, I was afraid to leave what I knew. I was afraid to leave home, to be come a wife, terrified to become a mother. I did not desire that tired look that framed my mother's eyes. I comforted myself that if Souji had turned down seven girls, he would never see anything in me. I agreed to the meeting.

So I found myself at tea shop, wrapping my hands around a tea cup when I first saw my future husband. He didn't see me right away, so I got to watch him quietly as he greeted old Yamashita-san, the owner of the shop, and ordered some tea. He ran a hand through immaculate black hair, smiled as he said something. Arima Souji, I thought in my mind.

He was slim, and handsome, but there was an air around the way he walked, the way he bowed… like my mother, almost. He was tired, too.

When Arima-san saw me, he smiled politely and I bowed as best I could while sitting.

"Moridou Shizune-san," he said, sitting across from me. His eyes were warm, and I smiled into them. My mother spent all morning sweeping my thick hair into a knot at the back of my neck, all yesterday picking out my clothes.

But Arima Souji just looked into the dark color of my eyes.

He didn't turn down a second meeting. And, to my own surprise, I didn't either.

~~

My wedding day was not a happy one. My youngest brother, nine year-old Hiroshi, fell very sick the week before and was rushed to the very hospital the Arimas owned. It was tense as Souji informed me they were doing everything they could for him, but the outlook didn't look good. Was I to marry into a family that couldn't save my own baby brother?

I never knew if it was just the pressure of time that made Souji decide to marry me. It was more puzzling what made me agree to him. And while his parents were delighted with my passive nature and sweet demeanor, the rest of the family treated me a little coldly. I had wondered if I had imagined it, when Souji formally introduced me to his relatives. After all, the upper class were known for being more aloof than the daughter of a local merchant, right?

"So tell me, Moridou-san, what is it your father does?" We were seated at a huge dinner in which it seemed every Arima in the prefecture came to judge each other. I felt faint to think in less than two weeks I'd join this family. The woman who asked the question was severe looking, and made me nervous.

"My father passed away nine years ago," I said softly, ducking my head as appropriate. Nine years ago, when Hiroshi was born… the thought of my brother brought tears to my eyes and I quickly excused myself from the table.

I was gulping air just outside to keep from sobbing when I heard her voice. She must have known I could hear her, yet she didn't seem to care.

"I never would have thought it. I thought Souji was the good brother, not like that delinquent Reiji. Yet, Souji doesn't seem to have much taste, does he now?"

"Shizune-san," a gentle voice said at my ear, "are you alright?" It was Souji, looking at me with his warm brown eyes.

The moon was rising and I could hear an owl call. I felt ashamed I had not returned to the meal, but how could I? The hall was silent now, the huge house next to empty. All the relatives left thinking me a hick, and a deserter.

"I am thinking of my brother," I said truthfully to Souji. He sighed, and put his hands on my shoulders, and ran his hands down my arms. Blood rushed to my face. He had not touched me so intimately before. His palms were warm, and I realized I was shivering in the cool evening air.

"I'm sorry for my aunt's behavior," he said softly.

"Are all of your family this mean spirited?" the bitter words left my lips before I could stop them. He was silent, and I instantly felt horrible.

"I'm sor-," I turned and realized he wasn't hurt. He looked… guilty.

"Sometimes," he said, under his breath. I felt guilty bringing up a painful subject.

"Souji," his first name, like my earlier remark, escaped me before I could stop it. I was to learn that Souji would have this effect on me. I did not watch what I said around him.

At the sound of my saying his name, his hands tightened around my wrists, just slightly. Souji's heart was pounding against my back, and I wondered if maybe it wasn't just time that made him chose me.

My mind was still mostly on Hiroshi, and on what that horrible woman had said, and that's what made me ask the next question.

"Souji, do you have any brothers and sisters?

A sharp intake of breath was my only answer. And I was not to meet Reiji until our wedding.

       The woman who insulted me attended my wedding, and my youngest brother did not. Hiroshi was still alive, but barely. The doctors told my mother that his liver was damaged beyond repair by a fungus-- bad mushrooms. It seemed so horrible, so far-fetched, that something that simple could kill a little boy. My mother did not tell me this before my wedding.        

Yet I wonder, as I knelt next to Souji in my deep red kimono and drank the sake bonding me as an Arima forever, if my mother blamed me for Hiroshi. I wonder if she thought I was responsible for the sickness of a boy who called me "ma ma", by feeding him the bad food that eventually killed him. I wonder now if she had lived, would she have said what happened later was fate punishing me?

~~

After the ceremony, I gripped Souji's hand tightly as we received congratulations from the family. He said everything that was expected with complete fluency and manners, and I trembled in silence. The Arima family was probably tremendously pleased with my performance as the beautiful, docile woman, and I took minor comfort in that.

I was bowing deeply to one of the elders of the Arima family, when the roaring sound of a motorbike made me snap my head up. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, as that noisy, flashy vehicle drove right up on temple grounds! Next to me Souji tensed, and the elders gasped. My brother Jun watched in wide-eyed awe.

The man on the bike took of his helmet and shook out shoulder length black hair. He regarded my new husband arrogantly, smirking. He resembled Souji enough for me to know they were brothers, but his demeanor was so different I could not have believed it.

"Congrats, brother dear," he said, brown eyes sweeping me up and down, "nice broad."

"Get out of here, Reiji!" Souji's father said firmly, "this is Souji's day."

The man rolled his eyes, "It's always Souji's day to you, old man."

Souji's mother just watched her son with tear-filled eyes, not saying a word. For some reason I honed into her every reaction to him. Almost as if I was preparing to be a mother, to be faced with my son scorning his family as Reiji did then.

Reiji's face was delicately handsome, and contrasted so much with his mannerisms. I hardly dared to glance at him; he scared me so, but I remember his face. I hated that face, hated this man who challenged my husband and looked at me with that arrogant sneer.

The occurrence with Reiji, along with concern for my brother, clouded my mind as Souji tried to talk to me on the airplane. It wasn't tradition to go on a honeymoon, but Souji and his parents were rich, and it was a tradition to show off as tactfully as humanly possible. I suppose sending the newlywed couple off to Seoul was a nice way to accomplish that.

I did not forget any of my troubles until Souji shyly lead me into our room at the inn in Korea. I realized with horror I had completely forgotten to be nervous about my wedding night. Souji had only kissed me before, and I knew a twenty-six year old knew much more about what occurred behind closed doors than I did. Souji's eyes were regarding me with a hunger that made me feel a strange sort of terror… a terror I did not want to run from. And the kindness was still there, so I couldn't really be afraid.

We did not see much of Seoul while we were there, but I think that's never the point of honeymoons. By the end of the week, I was not afraid of him anymore, and there was no more pain. I desired him as much as he was me, although I never let on. I was demure, I was sweet, I was mothering; I was the perfect wife.

~~

When I found out I was pregnant I was ecstatic. Souji and I had been married for a year and a half, and lived all by ourselves in a cavernous house that once belonged to his parents. Souji took over the hospital after his father retired moved with his mother to a lovely plot of land in Hokkaido. I joked to him that his parents were living everyone's pipe dream, and he smiled and told me to hush.

Busy as he was, I hardly saw my husband. He came home late at night, and if we made love, I was half asleep in the darkness of our bedroom. I left him rice and tea for his late nights. When we became husband and wife, Souji gave up his favorite food since I would never eat or serve mushrooms. Although we were apart for most of the time, I came to know Souji in a way strangely intimate to me.

I could smell the subtle differences of his scents, when he wore aftershave on weekends, when he'd worked all day among the medicinal smells of the hospital, when he had been drinking with his co-workers. I could picture the exact way he rubbed the bridge of his nose when he was frustrated with something, the way he adjusted his glasses with his index finger, the way he always misbuttoned his shirt. I found that when he was gone for long periods of time I missed him. I found I was happy when he was, worried when he was. I found I loved his kiss, his touch, but most of all his smile.

Like what happens in most arranged marriages, I discovered I was in love with my husband well after the wedding. And the pregnancy test I purchased at the local convenience store confirmed the truth: I was pregnant.

So, I suddenly found myself bursting with that bizarre emotion called love. For my unborn child, for my husband, for my brother, Jun, who wrote to say he was getting married soon as well.

This happened at the time of a very big expansion project the hospital was going through, and Souji was rarely around. When he was, he was tense and hard to talk to. I spent many nights on my knees, throwing up in the toilet while my marriage bed remained made and empty.

I figured after about a month and a half that Souji should know no matter what, so I made myself stay awake until he shuffled in the door at midnight one night in May.

"Welcome home." I greeted him with rice and tea, and smiled.

He looked tired, so tired, and I smelled no sake. He had truly been working all this time.

"Shizune," he surprised me by kissing my cheek, "Have you waited up all this time?"

I nodded, "Yes, Souji, we have waited up for you." I used the plural for emphasis and the extra syllables did not escape him.

"We?" he repeated, eyeing me in the dim kitchen light. I nodded, biting my lip. I wondered what he was feeling. Would he be upset, even more stressed now that he knew he'd have a child?

"Really, Shizune?"

Blushing, I nodded, "Yes. For about two months." He stood up from the table and walked over to where I knelt on the floor. In one movement he seized my forearms and lifted me until I stood in front of him. I met his eyes and laughed. He looked so happy! He twirled me in his arms until my protests became serious, and I had to rush to the restroom. It was a little less unpleasant with him there to rub my back while I dealt with morning sickness which plagued me at night, despite its name.

The baby brought Souji and I together like nothing ever had. He was so happy about his son (he was certain we would have a little boy-and I humored him by picking out a name already; Hiroshi, after my brother). Souji spent as much time as he could with me. He'd rush home after work instead of staying out with the other workers and drinking. He bought toys and mobiles and all these baby things at the hospital gift shop and brought them home. Then he'd set up the nursery, humming. I stood in the doorway and laughed at him. "Are you the woman now?" I teased, my hand on the tiny bulge in my stomach. Souji, as he does, merely smiled and told me to hush.

In my dream I was standing over Hiroshi's grave, telling him I was going to name my son after him, while the swelling of my stomach grew even as I watched. I smiled as I told my little brother the news of my baby. Then, to my surprise, a motorbike rode up right onto my brother's grave. In rage, I turned to confront the driver. To my shock, it was my husband's brother, and I remembered his face perfectly. He pointed at my still-growing stomach, screaming something I couldn't hear. My belly was so big now, too big. My back was aching horribly from the swelling. My back was aching… pain…

I woke with a start to pain wracking my lower body. I blurrily pulled myself out of my dreams, and into panic. It was dark as death outside, and Souji was fast asleep. I stumbled out of the bed to get a pain killer, and froze as I felt something warm on my legs. In the darkness I could still recognize the blood. The blood, it was everywhere, in the sheets, on my legs, on my hands… I think I choked out a name before I blacked out, whether it was Souji's or Hiroshi's I'll never know.

I awoke in Souji's hospital, with a woman in a white uniform standing over me. I thought it was my mother, coming home after work, and I think I said, "welcome home, Mother," before I realized where I was. The nurse smiled at me, with a look that spoke of pity and made me feel sick.

Souji was standing beside me, looking more tired than I'd ever seen him. "Souji?" my lips felt dry, and I felt… empty. It was such a horrible feeling, that I didn't even need to ask if I had lost our baby. My body was a shell, devoid of the life it once had. It's like dying. Like a piece of me dying. Once again, I was mourning for a Hiroshi, like my brother, my baby ripped from me.

The doctors told me I might still be able to have children, but they also informed me of a growth on my uterus that was probably harmless to me, but had also probably caused the miscarriage. I was too heartbroken over Hiroshi to think about other children, and I tuned out their warnings.

Souji was silent all the way home from the hospital the next evening, but he tucked me into bed like I was a child, bringing the blankets up to my chin and kneeling by the bedside, stroking back my hair.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to him in the darkness of our bedroom. I think he told me he loved me, I think that was the last thing he whispered before I fell asleep.

~~

Things were not the same after my miscarriage. Souji took apart the nursery while I was asleep that night, and never mentioned Hiroshi again, except to every so often enquire after my health. I shouldn't have named my baby so early. I shouldn't have named my baby, not after my brother. Not at all. I felt cold inside, which is why I think I never conceived after that. I know it's stupid for the wife of a doctor to think like this, but I truly believe, the coldness in my belly refused life.

Eventually Souji and I returned to normalcy, but we never became as close as we were those few months while I carried his child.

The coldness was still inside me, dormant, even three years later when Souji came home and asked me about our finances. I informed him that we were perfectly comfortable, and he responded that the hospital was also doing very well. There was a moment's pause and then he took a deep breath and brought up what had obviously been weighing on his mind.

"I heard from my brother today."

Surprise colored my expression, I'm sure, but all I said was, "Is that so?"

"He wants to join me in running the hospital," Souji said, lowering his eyes thoughtfully, "I wonder if he is serious this time."

I kept my opinions to myself. I hardly knew Reiji, after all, except what was said at the reunions. I had learned by then never to truly listen to what was said there, anyway.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, making it clear with the purposeful look in my eyes that if he asked, I'd tell him exactly what I thought. He always asked for advice from me before, and it felt like a slap in the face when Souji just shook his head and said he would sleep on it.

Eventually I had to sign the check Souji gave Reiji from our own account; money Souji assured me would indirectly be returned to us when Reiji used it to buy stock in the hospital. I just nodded.

After that it has hard not to have the worry in the back of my mind. The money wasn't all that much to us, truthfully, but Souji's faith in his brother was at stake and that was what kept me awake at night, going over and over the numbers and wondering what just wasn't adding up.

The phone rang while I was cutting up vegetables for dinner one night in August, while a terrible thunderstorm raged outside.

"Hello, Arima residence," I answered and dropped the knife when I heard the voice on the other line.

"Arima-san? This is Officer Tanakawa of the police."

The…what?

"Y-yes. What is it?"

"It has to do with your brother," the voice continued. Jun? I thought wildly, then he went on to say, "Arima Reiji. Could you please come down to the station as soon as possible?"

My mind was so stretched thin since he said the word 'brother' that my first reaction was "Arima who?" then it all hit home. Reiji. Oh, god our money was gone. The shares might be, too. And Souji… with a heavy heart I quickly jotted down the information the officer gave me and hung up the phone. Thunder rumbled outside my window.

After I paged Souji, I grabbed my purse and found myself waiting for his car at the end of our driveway in the pouring rain. I had no idea why I wanted to come along to the police station to bail out his brother or whatever it was, but I wanted to. I don't know if I was remembering Reiji from my dream before the miscarriage, or merely wanted to prove to my husband I could be as supportive a wife as possible. But when Souji arrived, I got into the car. I explained the circumstances on our way to the station, as we drove along among high winds and bright flashes of lightening, and the smell of wet pavement.

~~end part I

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