In the end, Kyou doesn't mind that he's the cat anymore. Not that he's cursed, not that he's going to be shut up in the room, that room, sickly sweet with the scent of long-lived hatred, turning to bitterness, then to resignation, saddest of all. All he knows is that he loves Tohru, and that is enough. Seeing Tohru, he memorizes her, her lines of soul and body, her smiles, each different in a way. Kazuma is worried for him, he knows; Kazuma would like to see him go down fighting tooth and nail, that is the Kyou he loves. This new creature is strangely aged and mysterious and makes Kazuma miserable in a way that the cursed form never did.
Kyou doesn't fight Yuki anymore. He doesn't have the time. Each moment is vital and important to Kyou, it cannot be wasted on petty rivalry...what will it lead to, he knows he will lose to Yuki. It isn't Yuki's fault, he knows now. Things are just the way they are. After all, Yuki is bruised and hurt in a way that Kyou doesn't imagine, wounded animal that he is himself. He collects things now. Moments with Tohru, her silliness, worrying over trivialities...he is trying to cram a lifetime of memories into a few months, after all, they are what will sustain him for that long.
Kyou realizes, in the back of his mind, that Rin is looking for a cure. He doesn't think of it. No time, no time. Even if the cure comes, he knows, he will never be the same.
Written March 06.