Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or 'Whiskey Lullaby' by Brad Paisley.
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Whiskey Lullaby
She put him out like the burning end of a midnight cigarette.
He just couldn't do it. He couldn't forget about her. She was his everything, his savior, his spring. He just couldn't forget about her, not like she had about him. She was his world, the one who he loved and who had accepted him despite what he was.
She broke his heart he spent his whole life trying to forget.
He had been slowly dying on the inside. He had started drinking about five months ago; right after her wedding. He had been good about hiding it. He always made sure he was in the house and that no one would be calling on him randomly while he was intoxicated. Even Akito didn't know, and if he did, he wasn't using it against him.
We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time.
No matter how much he drank, he could always remember her. Her smiling face, her silly antics, the way her eyes would light up at the simplest of things…
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind.
He knew he was smashed tonight. He must have drunk enough to kill a horse at least. He doubted he would be able to stand up to get out of his chair and stumble to his bed. He frowned. He hated sleeping in his chair. His back was always sore in the morning.
Until the night…
Standing unsteadily, he took a few steps in the direction of his bedroom. Noticing the cabinet in the hallway, he leaned heavily on it as he stumbled towards his room. Opening the door on the large wooden cabinet, he took out a large glass bottle containing an amber liquid. Sloshing the contents, he stumbled into his bedroom and fell face first onto the mattress, not even bothering to get undressed.
Taking a swig of the contents, he spied a pen and a piece of paper on his night table. Carefully placing his bottle on the stand, he took the pen and pad of paper, and drew as great a representation of her as he could, being neither an artist and completely smashed. Writing careful, legible words underneath the picture, he clutched it tightly to him and grabbed the bottle again, lying back down on his stomach.
He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger.
"Hatori?" Shigure's voice rang out through the seemingly empty house. His work had called; Hatori hadn't come in and they were starting to get worried when there was no answer at his house. His vacation wasn't due to start until next week.
And finally drank away her memory.
"That's odd." He said to himself. There seemed to be no answer no matter how loud he called. Wondering if Hatori had yet again gotten drunk and passed out in his chair, Shigure headed for the living room. Upon not discovering the male sleeping in his chair, Shigure frowned. 'Perhaps he made it to his bed tonight?'
Life is short, but this time it was bigger.
Entering Hatori's room, and seeing the male face down on the mattress, Shigure sighed. His cousin really needed to shape up. He couldn't go on living like this; it just wasn't healthy!
Then the strength he had to get up off his knees.
Grabbing Hatori by the shoulder and shaking him to awaken him, Shigure suddenly released him, his blood running cold. Groping for a pulse, he sighed sadly when he didn't find one.
We found him with his face down in the pillow.
'I'm sorry you had to go like this, Hatori. You know she really loved you, she even managed to remember. But she didn't want you to know; she wanted you to move on.'
Noticing something clutched in Hatori's hand, Shigure removed it, and unfolded the slightly crumpled picture. Finding a crude picture of Kana, and a small scribble that said 'I'll love her 'til I die.', Shigure smiled sadly.
With a note that said I'll love her 'til I die.
'You did bud. You did.'
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He was buried on Sohma property, right beneath a willow tree. Shigure and Ayame thought it was fitting, as a willow is sturdy and solemn, and that's how Hatori always was.
And when we buried him beneath the willow,
Ayame for once was silent and solemn, his cheery nature gone for the day. Both he and Shigure knew that they weren't the only ones crying, despite other people trying to hide it. Both Shigure and Ayame wept openly, for once, not just because of the way, and the fact that, Hatori had died, but the reason for his death.
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby.
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The rumors flew.
She had remembered. Everything. Everything.
But nobody knew how much she blamed herself.
Not only had the memories come back, the guilt too. She couldn't protect him. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't have been injured. How could she let that happen to him? How could she be so selfish to risk getting him hurt? And not only HAD he been hurt, but worse then she had. He had been hurt both physically, AND emotionally.
For years and years.
She bore emotional pain, always would, but it was trivial compared to what he suffered through, and she knew this. How could she not blame herself for his pain? It WAS her fault after all. If it hadn't been for her, Hatori would still be able to see out of both eyes, and he would still be happy…
She tried to hide the whiskey on her breath.
But would he? They had been a happy couple, true. It was true love, always had been. But Hatori hadn't been happy before them; he had admitted that to her. With her, he felt forgiven, accepted, saved.
And she, being selfish, had fallen heartsick, destroying him. Killing him further when he erased her memories in order to save her, from what she was doing right now. Yet she couldn't help it. She just couldn't forget about him, about them.
She finally drank her pain away, a little at a time.
She couldn't help feeling guilty, since it was actually her fault. And she just couldn't forget about the man she had been, and still was, in love with. It was her fault he was hurt, and she couldn't save him. Either from herself and the pain she caused, or from the cursed he bore.
But she never could go get drunk enough, to get him off her mind.
These feelings and this guilt had caused her to go into a deep depression. She had been skilled at hiding it though, that, and the whiskey she used to try and self-remedy it. She knew several people suspected, and she had a feeling Mayu knew, but she doubted anyone really knew for sure.
Until the night…
Tonight, she was, as the kids said, absolutely, totally and completely, ducking frunk, and she knew it. She was lying in bed, a bottle of whiskey in her right hand, and his picture in her left.
She put that bottle to her head, and pulled the trigger.
Taking a swig of the liquid, she ignored the burning sensation as it went down her throat and stared directly into those deep, dark green eyes, the colour of pond water. She sighed, and several tears slid down her ivory cheeks as she continued to gaze at the picture.
And finally drank away his memory.
Taking another gulp, she silently cried as the memories continued to wash over her. Rolling onto her stomach, she put her face into her pillow and cried her heart out, the bottle of whiskey lying forgotten on the floor, the amber liquid oozing across the pristine carpet, staining it a dark gold.
Life is short, but this time it was bigger.
"Kana?" Mayu called. They were supposed to be going on a shopping trip today, and Kana told Mayu to come over when she was ready to go. When Kana hadn't answered the door, Mayu had fished around in her purse for the spare key Kana had given her incase Kana locked herself out, which she did on a regular basis.
Then the strength she had to get up off her knees.
Looking around the apartment, Mayu frowned. There was no sign of Kana. 'That's odd.' There were a few things of her now ex-husbands things that had yet to be picked up by him, but there was no sound of Kana getting ready, or yelling 'I'll be down in a moment!'
We found her with her face down in the pillow.
Walking towards the bedroom, wondering if Kana had overslept, Mayu walked in and spied her best friend lying on her stomach on the large queen sized bed. Sighing, knowing Kana had been drinking again, Mayu walked over and tapped Kana softly on the back.
"Wake up, hun. You really have to stop drinking like this. What's got you so down anyway?"
Clinging to his picture for dear life.
Getting no response, Mayu frowned. Grabbing her wrist, she was surprised to find Kana's hand clamped on a picture. She was holding it so tightly that the frame had cracked, the glass falling to the floor as Mayu removed it from her friends' white-knuckled grasp.
Spying it as a picture of Hatori, Mayu sighed softly, sadly. NOW she knew what was wrong. Putting her hand underneath Kana's hair on her neck, she immediately withdrew it upon feeling cold skin. Realizing that the wrist in her grasp had no pulse and was ice cold, Mayu closed her eyes and dropped her head, softly letting go of Kana's arm.
'You remembered.'
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We laid her next to him beneath the willow.
Kana was buried next to Hatori under the tall willow on the Sohma estate. Mayu wished them happiness in the next life, praying they wound up together, for good, next time. Lord knows they deserved it this time around.
While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby.
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There. Something I did after hearing this song, and something to get the creative juices flowing after a little bit of writers block!