This story takes place several years after the anime ends. Both Hiro and Kisa are in their final year of high school, and their curses have not been broken. Credit for the Fruits Basket story goes to Natsuki Takaya.

Part One

The scent of spring was in the air as Kisa Sohma leaned out her bedroom window, gazing happily at the pink and yellow sky which greeted her. It was a school day, which meant Hiro would be there soon to meet her. He was always punctual, and usually a half hour early, which left very little time to enjoy beautiful sunrises such as this one. Still, she treasured the few short minutes she had for herself in the morning. She had begun the ritual of opening her bedroom window as soon as she awoke back in middle school, breathing deeply for several minutes to acquire a sense of peace.

She found the fresh air cleared both her heart and her mind, and never failed to fill her with the strength she needed to face the day. On the rare occasions the fresh air didn't work, Hiro could always be counted upon to cheer her.

"Well hello Juliet. Didn't your mother wake you on time? You're not even wearing your uniform!"

Kisa glanced downwards, startled, and then reddened in spite of herself. Of course, Hiro could also be counted upon to make fun of her silly habits. He was early as usual, his hands thrust leisurely into his pockets, his upturned face regarding her with its typically sarcastic expression.

"It's lucky you don't have a balcony, otherwise I'd be climbing the damn thing every morning to get you out of bed," he quipped. "Do I need to find a useless Romeo to sing you down?"

Kisa laughed quietly in spite of herself, and withdrew her body from the window.

"I'll be there in a minute," she said.

Her school uniform hung on a peg at the back of her door, ironed to the perfection her mother insisted on performing every morning. A tiny paper heart had been pinned to its collar.

Good luck on your test.

Xx, Mom

Kisa smiled, closing her eyes briefly to thank her mother for her kindness. Their relationship had not always been a close one, but her mother had worked hard to prove her love, embracing Kisa even in her darkest moments. It was something Kisa was especially grateful for now that she had grown older. She glanced fondly at the paper heart for a minute, then carefully inserted it into her book bag.

"For extra luck," she whispered to herself.

Hiro was leaning against the garden gate as she locked the front door behind her. "The lady appears at last," he drawled good-naturedly. He had grown taller in the past year, and she often found herself looking upward to speak with him now.

"Sorry," she apologized softly. "I did get up early this morning. I was just distracted by the sunrise. Did you see it? The colors never blend the same way, and the pink tones were so lovely today."

She waited for him to respond, though she could already guess that it was likely he wouldn't. As unfriendly and cynical as Hiro appeared to the outside world, he shared a remarkably tender side of his character with Kisa. It was an indescribable gentleness directed towards her alone, a trait which frequently manifested itself within his eyes. She saw it now as he look at her silently, his dark gaze softening with affection.

He seemed to tolerate and even enjoy her girlish descriptions of things which pleased her, his response always a quiet smile of amusement. Secretly, Kisa still found his treatment of her surprising when compared with his public persona. The Hiro at school was a king of his own making-he refused to fit in and dared to stand out, his brash, often hostile nature creating a sharp distance between him and the rest of the student body.

Still, his confidence garnered respect, and though a full acceptance into the social world of high school was impossible, the students left him alone. They could sense the strangeness which emanated from both him and the rest of the Sohma clan, but his presence was too formidable for them to dare tease him about it.

"Well?" Hiro said brusquely, interrupting her thoughts. "Still intending to go to school today, or should we skip out?" His school bag was slung haphazardly over his shoulder, and as usual he had forgone the tie which was meant to accompany the male uniform. His hair, long enough now to brush the top of his shirt collar, was windswept and in rather endearing disarray.

"Oh no," Kisa said quickly, snapping out of her thoughts once again. "I have a test first period. I couldn't miss it."

"You didn't tell me about that," Hiro said, sounding slightly annoyed. They had been placed in different classes for their senior year, a fact which had frustrated Hiro greatly. He disliked being apart, and frequently worried over her isolation among the students. Kisa knew he had developed this habit as a result of his inability to protect her those many years ago, when severe bullying from her middle school classmates had left her broken and alone.

Her friendship with Hiro at the time had been non-existent, due to a previous misunderstanding. As the classroom abuse intensified, she had turned inward, becoming mute in an effort to cope with the pain. Eventually, she had run away from home. His absence from her life during this time was something Hiro still struggled to forgive himself for, though she had repeatedly assured him that his guilt was misplaced.

"You really could have told me," he grumbled as they walked. "I would have helped you study."

"That's alright," Kisa smiled. "We went over the questions several times during lessons. I should be fine."

Hiro rolled his eyes. "That's what you said last time. Look what happened."

Kisa's cheeks turned pink. "Well the horror film we watched the night before didn't help," she mumbled. "I tried to study, but I kept thinking about that swamp monster."

"Oh please," Hiro scoffed. "That was the stupidest looking thing I've ever seen. It wasn't even scary. The moans sounded like a bad cold."

"Yes, well, it was still difficult to focus on a test with that sort of scary imagery in my head," Kisa said defensively, her cheeks still warm.

"Scary imagery?" Hiro repeated, turning to look at her.

"Yes," Kisa said sternly.

He threw back his head and laughed. "You're pitiful, you know that?" He said, grinning at her.

"I know," Kisa said dejectedly.

"Oh come on, I didn't mean it like that," he teased, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Several red-gold strands blew into her eyes, and she brushed them away.

"Do you think your teacher will test you next week as well?" she questioned. "I heard they'll be preparing us extra hard for the midterm exams this year. Some of the students in the last term didn't do that well."

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Either way, I'll skip it."

"Hiro!" Kisa said worriedly. "You know you can't."

His dark eyes took on their customary glint, and he gave her a sly smile.

"Kisa, we both know that's not true."

Kisa sighed. How Hiro maintained his high marks with an adamant refusal to study or take tests continued to baffle her. Especially since his relaxed attitude toward his schoolwork was drastically altered when it came to her own marks. He insisted on helping her study, and nagged her to finish homework, often reviewing her papers when she had finished. He teased her, saying it was because he expected her to buy him a luxurious house, since her high marks would guarantee her a well paying job. Deep down however, Kisa knew it was simply because he genuinely wanted her to do well. Hiro had little interest in material things, and a luxurious house would have bored him.

She imagined him reclining on a couch, surrounded by silk cushions in a fancy house and giggled. The image was completely at odds with his character.

"What is it?" Hiro said suspiciously. "You're not imagining me in that duck sweater again are you?"

Kisa laughed softly. "No, but I still like that sweater,'' she said sweetly. "Those little yellow ducks made such a cute pattern, and it would look-"

"Completely and utterly moronic," Hiro said flatly.

They had reached the school yard, and wove their way slowly through the groups of students who stood clustered around the front doors.

"Hello!" A girl said loudly, bounding up to them suddenly. "My name is Eiko Okinawa. I write for the student newspaper! You probably heard the class president mention the article we are writing about the senior class. Would you please fill out this form, and return it to the student newspaper office by the end of the day?"

Hiro snatched the papers she offered from her grasp, scanning the title quizzically.

"How I achieve my goals and hope for future success?" He read mockingly. "What is this, some kind of inspirational garbage?"

The girl sent him a startled look. "It's for the first year students," she said, swiftly regaining her cheerful demeanor. "It's to show them the power of preservation and hard work! We want to help them do well, and show them how the older students motivate themselves."

"That's stupid," Hiro said flippantly. "What do you think this will do, encourage the first years to work harder? Fill them with some kind of awe over their idols in the higher grades? Anyone with half a brain knows that to get good marks, you need to study. Simple as that. Any first year who doesn't understand that is an idiot and should be running a vegetable stand, not taking up valuable space in a classroom."

Eiko stared at him wordlessly as Kisa gently took one of the forms from Hiro's hand.

"It sounds like a wonderful article," she said softly. "I'll drop mine off at the office when school is over." She turned and gazed at Hiro quietly. He gave her a pained look. She ignored it, and continued to regard him steadily, her soft brown eyes patient.

"Aw hell," Hiro groaned, shoving the form into his pocket, "I'll fill it out. It's still stupid though," he said, looking at Eiko. "You should re-think your topics or just quit your position. The student newspaper needs work."

Eiko opened her mouth and closed it, her eyes wide.

"Hiro," Kisa admonished.

"Well, it's true," Hiro grumbled.

"We're happy to contribute," Kisa said, smiling at the girl.

"Thank you!" Eiko said happily, her spark returning. "I'll see you soon!" She bounded off, disappearing into another group of students, the forms clutched to her chest.

"I hate people like that," Hiro muttered. "They think they're providing others with knowledge, but really they're just spreading the stupidity around. It's like the flu, but worse. Everyone goes brain dead."

Kisa just smiled, brushing a loose strand of brown hair behind his ear. He stopped talking, and looked at her.

"Your shirt collar is bent," she said.

"I know. It's how I fight the establishment," Hiro responded, the glint in his eyes returning.

"Do you want me to fix it?" Kisa asked.

"But I feel so rebellious like this," Hiro said dramatically.

Kisa laughed, and he immediately smiled.

"You can if you want too," Hiro said graciously. "But only if you wear that pink ribbon you have in your hair tomorrow."

Kisa blushed. Hiro had taken to teasing her in the last few months in a way that made her both happy and shy. He treated her as he always had, with that hidden kindness few saw, but somehow the manner in which he displayed that kindness had changed. His compliments, his jokes, even his expressions-they seemed intensified, their meanings hinting ever stronger at something neither of them had yet dared to vocalize.

She knew her friendship with him was an unbreakable one, a bond which had quietly evolved into feelings which ran deeply between them. Still, at its surface, it retained the elements of their childhood relationship. And while both Hiro and Kisa had matured in both body and mind, in many ways, their friendship had not. Hiro frequently assumed the role of the supportive, often parental figure, but it was only in the brief moments that he held her hand as they crossed a busy road that either of them acknowledged the truth of sharing something more.

"Okay," Kisa agreed, privately delighted that he would remember that ribbon. She had not worn it for some time.

"Alright," Hiro said, leaning down. She reached up, smoothing the crumple in the collar.

"Finished," she said.

"I'm one of them now," Hiro sighed dramatically. "Nothing unique left to distinguish me from the masses, except an acerbic wit and a startling intelligence."

Well, modesty had never been his strong suit. Kisa grinned again in spite of herself.

"Extremely smart," she agreed, a trace of pride in her voice.

Hiro looked at her quickly, his aura suddenly awkward. The bell rang, and the students around them swarmed toward the doors.

"Well, I'll see you at lunch then," he said. Kisa nodded, noticing the faintest shade of pink had suddenly colored his cheeks.

"See you then," she repeated, smiling.

The morning classes passed swiftly, although the test proved to be rather more difficult than Kisa had expected. She sighed, an echo of Hiro's voice already teasing her about re-writes.

When the bell rang signaling the beginning of lunch, Kisa gathered her books together quietly. As she placed them in her school bag, a faint sense of nausea enveloped her. She raised her hand, feeling the flushed surface of her forehead delicately.

It was strange. She had not felt sick this morning. It must simply have been the stress of the test, or perhaps the upcoming exams. As she placed her school bag over her shoulder however, Kisa felt herself sway, a second wave of nausea accompanied by dizziness washing through her. She sat down, and closed her eyes. It would be difficult to concentrate like this in the afternoon classes. She would go home, but first she would leave her bento box for Hiro as he had requested.

She stood a second time, and made her way slowly down the hall, toward the second floor staircase. Hiro had discovered a classroom used only for evening classes there, and christened it their meeting place. It was empty when she arrived, and she placed her bento box carefully on a desk close to the door. Then she scribbled a note, explaining she would go home for the day.

After she had informed the school nurse, she made her way home, hoping her mother wasn't back from work yet to worry about her. She hated causing a fuss, and her mother would most likely be tired from a long day. As Kisa crawled into bed and placed a hot cloth on her forehead, she wondered what Hiro would think when he saw the bento box. Most likely he would scold her for bringing only shrimp. He favored tempura.

She closed her eyes, drifting slowly away. A loud bang echoed suddenly round the room as the door was thrust open, bouncing against the wall. Kisa sat up, startled.

"Really Kisa! A note? You could have told me you were sick!" Hiro said irately, his breathing heavy. He was bent over, his chest rising and falling sharply.

"Were you running?" Kisa said, surprised.

"No," Hiro said. "Maybe. I saw you just as you left the school, and tried to catch up."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't see you."

"Clearly," Hiro smirked. "For a tiger, your sense of vision needs an upgrade."

Kisa blushed slightly, as she always did when someone mentioned her animal form.

"You know it's better at night," she replied, embarrassed.

"Well I wasn't going to wait that long to chase you," Hiro grinned. He dropped himself onto the bed beside her. "So what's wrong? How are you feeling?"

"Oh nothing," Kisa said quickly. "Just a slight fever. Don't worry about it, I'm sure it will pass by tomorrow."

All at once, the grin vanished from Hiro's face.

"Of course I'll worry about it," he said, suddenly defensive.

"Please don't," Kisa said. "The nurse said it was nothing extreme."

"It doesn't have to be extreme. It's important, because it's you. And if it's you, I'm going to worry about it." Hiro said.

"Hiro," Kisa smiled. "You worry too much."

"No I don't. You never let me," Hiro said, his voice suddenly resentful. "As soon as I voice my concerns, you turn me away. You're doing it right now."

Kisa stared at him in surprise, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. "Yes, but that's because I'm okay."

"You always say that," Hiro responded. "Why is it so hard for you to let me voice concern? Whenever you're upset about something, you refuse to let me in, but then you thank me for my support later. You never even give me the chance to show it. It's like you feel guilty about needing someone."

Kisa shifted uncomfortably, her eyes averted. She didn't understand where his anger was coming from, but there was some truth to his words. She knew she would be weaker without him, and sometimes that shamed her. It reminded her of how she had felt in middle school, without Hiro by her side-lost and very alone.

"Of course not," she said finally. "I do really appreciate your concern."

"Then allow me to express it," Hiro urged. "I promised you all those years ago, when Tohru brought us back together, that I would make up for the time we were apart. I would never abandon you like that again, and nobody would ever treat you the way those students treated you."

He looked away, his eyes darkening. "I would protect you from that sort of pain."

"Hiro, you can't protect me from everything," Kisa said lightly, attempting to change the mood.

"Any why not?" He demanded. "I said I would. So I will."

"But you can't," Kisa said softly. "The curse ensures that. We can find comfort in other members of the Sohma family because they share our sorrow, and they understand the difficulties we must face. But that sort of comfort is fleeting. Individually, we must still fight our own battles. It's the core of what makes the curse so difficult. It's the burden of those private struggles each one of us must endure."

Hiro stared at her. "Do you think that I am with you to take comfort in you?"

"Well yes," Kisa answered, confused. "We are linked by the thread which connects the Sohma family, and always will be. It is what drew us together."

"That is not what drew me to you at all," Hiro said sharply. "My hatred of the curse is something I have learned to accept, but I certainly did not seek you out to draw comfort from you."

Kisa remained silent. He was confusing her further. What did he mean, he hadn't been drawn to her because of the curse? Wasn't that the foundation of the bond they shared? Their ability to relate over the hardship which ruled their lives?

"You don't understand, do you?" Hiro said quietly, his tone suddenly sad.

"I think I do," Kisa said. "Your childhood guilt still haunts you. You regret leaving me by myself, being unable to shield me from the cruel words of those children."

"No," Hiro said, shaking his head. "I know you've forgiven me for that. I know it will never happen again, and that gives me a sense of closure."

"Then what is it?" Kisa whispered. She felt suddenly afraid that he would tell her he had befriended her out of pity, out of the fact that her weakness, her shyness, her inability to stand up for herself marked her as helpless, as someone in desperate need of protection.

"Forget it," Hiro said, standing up. "I'm sorry I bothered you."

"Hiro," Kisa protested.

"Get better please," he said softly. She watched him turn, and close the door quietly behind him.