Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket nor am I affiliated with it in any way.
She couldn't remember what it had felt like to die.
There was this sensation of lightness, as if her soul had left her body (which, she guessed, had been exactly what had happened), and then everything had gone very dark for a moment, before suddenly getting very bright. It had felt like she was supposed to go down this bright path that had opened before her, to see whatever lay at the end of it. But she hadn't been able to move forward. Her feet had been nailed to the ground, and instead she had watched that brightness dim to black until it seemed like nothing but a beautiful memory.
However, all of that had happened after death. She still couldn't remember what the moment of dying had been like.
What it had felt like to take her last breath.
To think her last thought.
To feel her last sensation.
Maybe it was better that she didn't remember.
Now, however, she found herself in a familiar place but she felt like a stranger: she was standing in her own living room. It had been nearly two hours since she'd figure out where she was, but she hadn't been able to fully process it yet. This…wasn't what death was like, was it? Wasn't there supposed to be some kind of beautiful afterlife waiting for her? Had that been the light? Had she been unworthy?
Being sent back to the mortal world made no sense, especially when she wasn't able to be an active participant in it.
All she knew was that she was not in any afterlife. She was still in the living world. After she had left her body, it had been like she'd been transported here. And there was an overwhelming sense of relief to be back home, but also this lingering feeling of sadness: something in her soul had called out to that light, had wanted to go with that light, and she felt a little cheated that she'd been denied.
That did leave Tooru Honda to wonder just what she was. Here she was, in her own living room, and every time she tried to touch something, her hand slipped right through it. When she looked down, she seemed solid enough. She was still dressed in her hospital gown and she still had the hole in her arm from her IV, but while she could touch her own body and find it solid, the instant she tried to pick something up, it was as if her hand turned to water. It would ripple and then the object would pass right through, like she didn't exist at all.
It was terrifying.
Her first instinct had been to panic. She had begun pacing, her hands over her heart, her eyes wide in trepidation, as she had walked through every piece of furniture in her house. Or rather, it felt as if she had glide through, but she didn't want to think about that.
The only rooms she hadn't entered had been the one she had shared with Kyou and her son's room. She had no desire to see those. Not yet. Not ever, if she could help it. If she entered them, she might break.
Each time it had been the same. She seamlessly passed through any obstacle in her path, her entire body shivering and then moving through it. The sensation was odd, but not entirely unpleasant. It were as if she were made of air for a moment, even though she rippled like water, and then all of her atoms reconnected once she had passed through to make her solid again.
It was chilling.
After a while, her mind had calmed down enough for her to try and take in the situation, and that was when she had decided what had happened: she had turned into a ghost. She was a spirit. A spirit stuck in this world rather than heading into the next. Even though there had been that part of her soul that had called out to that bright light, Tooru found that she couldn't have been happier with the outcome. Even though she would be unable to participate in her loved ones lives, now she could at least watch. She would happily be a bystander, as long as she could be near them.
Now she could watch her son grow up.
Even if that meant she stayed a ghost.
The thought had overwhelmed her with such gratefulness that she'd fallen to her knees in sobs. She was still here. It was a weird kind of existence, and one she wasn't able to come to terms with in a few hours, but at least it was a type of existence. At least she still existed.
Hours may have passed while she lay in a crumpled heap, her face pressed into her palms as she sobbed away. Time had already felt strange ever since she'd found herself back in the living world, but for those moments it had become absolutely untamable. All she knew was that she suddenly knew she wasn't alone.
She hadn't heard the door open, but she certainly heard it practically slam closed. Sitting upright, her hands dropped from her face and through her blurred vision, the bright orange hair was unmistakable. A choked sob escaped her and Tooru practically flung herself up off the floor and rushed over to the new occupant.
Now that she was able to blink the tears away, the image of her husband's face was easier to see – and Tooru hated what she saw. She wanted those tears to come back so that it would be obscured from her, but she had run dry. She could only stare in shock as he made his way into the house, tossing off his shoes unceremoniously at the door. Their son, Kazuma, was nowhere to be seen. It was just Kyou.
He looked a wreck. His face was haggard and thinner than she had remembered, his orange hair completely disheveled and almost as much as a disarray as his clothing, which hung limply off his frame. The sight of him rendered her paralyzed. But what was she expecting? That Kyou would saunter in as if nothing had happened? That he'd be wearing a smile and carrying their son on his shoulders like usual?
No. Everything had changed. She was dead now. She had to keep reminding herself of that.
She was dead.
He had probably just come from the hospital where it had been announced that she was dead. Their son must be staying with one of their friends. No wonder he looked so awful. Had he been looking this awful for a while now? Tooru had no idea. Her illness had made her so sick that she hadn't been able to see anything for weeks. Opening her eyes had been such a hassle. She had eventually fallen into a vegetative state.
There was very little she remembered from the past month in general. She remembered her friends coming to visit her. She remembered Kyou being there – he had always been there- holding her hand and whispering in her ear. She remembered her son coming on occasion and sitting on the edge of her bed, telling her stories. Tooru had wanted to smile at everything he'd told her, but it had been too difficult to do so.
Tooru watched as Kyou staggered into the bedroom. She hadn't wanted to go in there earlier because she had been afraid of all of the memories that might've come with it, but now she couldn't get there fast enough. She watched as he collapsed onto their bed and her heart nearly broke when she heard the sobs wrack through him.
Tooru tried to put her hand on his shoulder, but as usual, it simply went through him. That disturbed her more than anything else had to this point. Reeling back, she looked at her hand. Although it still looked solid to her, the knowledge that it wasn't sent chills down her spine. This entire time she had been affirming her death to herself, trying to come to terms with it, but nothing had been as rude as an awakening call as watching her hand go through her husband's body.
The revelation that she couldn't do anything suddenly sunk in. She was helpless. The very idea of it, much less the truth of it, would have been enough to send her into a state of panic, but she swallowed down her rising anxiety, her focus back on Kyou.
Even though there wasn't anything she could do, she had decided on her purpose. After all, there was a reason she had been denied that white light, wasn't there? There was a reason that she had been sent back to earth rather than been allowed to pass on… to whatever lay ahead.
She had just realized her reason.
Tooru was meant to stay behind and ensure her son and husband's happiness, she was sure of it. She would stay by Kyou's side until his dying day and then they would pass on together. The thought warmed her, casting aside some of the previous anxiety that had been building.
She felt a solid thud rock through her and she looked down, surprised to find that her feet were firmly planted on the floor. This entire time, ever since she had died, she had been floating without even realizing it, unable to touch anything, including the floor.
Now, however, the moment after she had her epiphany, she was suddenly able to stand on her own two feet again. Tentatively, she stepped forward, surprised at how solid the ground felt underneath her, at how different a sensation it was compared to how she had been moving a few moments previously.
Tooru reached forward, trying again to place her hand on Kyou's back, but found that she was denied that simple pleasure. A sliver of frustration shot through her and she shut her eyes against the sensation. Be grateful, Tooru, she told herself. Remember that you have been given some kind of chance.
So she couldn't touch him…so what? It weren't as if he'd be able to feel her touch anyway. She crouched down next to him, hoping that somehow Kyou would be able to feel her presence there. It was only then that she realized he was asleep, having exhausted himself so thoroughly with his tears.
It broke her heart to see his devastation, but she was there now. And she knew exactly what she had to do. Being able to feel the world under her feet again must be some kind of sign, she was sure of it. She had found her reason for living in Kyou once before and now she had found it again.
It was right.
