Sunlight split the room into fractals as Rika's eyes opened, the light almost unbearably bright and enough that she flung a hand over her face to shield it. When she'd adapted better, she allowed herself to sit upright and examine where she was, brow furrowing as she examined the futon she'd been placed in. There were bandages hooked around her ankles and even without walking Rika could feel where blisters had formed on the base of her feet.

The world felt strangely off kilter. Brighter. More of, well, everything.

Her memories were back. Years of doubting herself and inexplicable gnawing guilt - it had all been given an answer. Burying her face in her hands she started to laugh. Of course, it would have had to be like this. Painful and terrifying and - briiiiiiiing.

A phone snapped her out of her rising panic, Rika throwing back the covers and stepping out into the hallway. The room she'd been in was unfamiliar, housing only a bookshelf and reading light. Nothing gave away her location as she reached the phone, an extension line by the looks of it, unsure whether to answer. At least until she realised nobody else was coming to get it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this the Sohma residence? I was told this number should put me through to the right person" Rika almost laughed and asked which bloody one?

"Yes, but I'm not -," She hesitated, "Can I take a message?" There was a pad of paper and pen beside the receiver and she noted the bandages around a few of her fingers. Flexing her hand, she noted nothing was broken but there was tension in the joints. Somewhere in her flight from the lake house, she had bruised herself up badly.

"Could you tell Hatori Sohma that Detective Ito called? It's regarding Rika Hayashi and the incident she was involved in." Her breath caught violently and Rika's fingers spasmed around the pen.

"It's me. Detective, I'm Rika." The woman on the other end was polite, offering sympathies and inquiring to her health. It was over the course of ten minutes that he told her of the ongoing investigation that had led to her father's death and then finally, the court's ruling.

The door closed heavily in the main living room, Rika barely looking away from the window and the view of the lake in the distance. The previous days rain had vanished, leaving the trees and skyline lush. She wasn't sure how she felt, but anger was still sitting heavily at the surface. It rolled and howled just beneath her skin, flooding her with heat. She wished for rain. For a thunderstorm. Some acknowledgement of the world outside that it could relate to the tempest in her chest would've softened the blow.

Instead, the sun shone bright.

"Rika…" Hatori's voice was tentative and the man stepped forward with a bag clasped within his hand. "You should sit."

"I feel fine." His reflection showed his flinch quite clearly at the flat edge to her voice. Her heels were numbed. The wound across her knee had been dressed. Hatori had already seen to the worst of the injuries picked up from her attempts to escape her memory overload but most of it was surface level. The things he could reach and treat in the midst of her being unconscious.

Rika knew this.

She suddenly knew a lot of things.

Too many things, a small voice said from the back of her mind. Things she could've happily gone to her grave without knowing at all. A wave of emotion hit her so violently she buckled forward against the glass, fingertips turning white while she attempted to get control of herself. To stop the nausea rising and splatting the floor – not that there was much of anything in her stomach.

"You're allowed to not be fine." Hatori had moved closer, the too casual step of a man approaching a wounded animal. Somehow, that enraged her all the more.

"You'd know all about that wouldn't you?" She twisted on the balls of her feet to look at him properly, oscillating wildly between the warmth that usually rose upon seeing him and sheer unbridled rage. Rika slammed her teeth together in her mouth to stop herself from lashing out. To hold back the weight of the pain she was trying to sift through. No matter how desperately she tried, the cracks had grown too big to paper over. To stem the tide. "How often did you tell me that when I was a kid Hatori? How often did you actually believe it or was it all lip-service? You certainly didn't tell me that Detective Ito was in contact with you. Or that you knew that old woman had fallen asleep at the wheel and that's why my dad is dead. Where was your honesty then?"

She watched the tick in his jaw as he studied her. Placed the bag aside onto the sofa that stood between them. Colour had drained from his face, leaving two pale pink patches along his cheekbones.

Grief.

That's what she could feel. Getting her memories back was meant to be freeing. An escape from the guilt and shame she hadn't been able to name but instead it had thrown it all into sharp focus. Had shattered illusions. Desires. The woman's body ached but it was her heart aflame.

"I always meant it." Hatori finally said, a hand reaching into his pocket in a habit she recognised. "That I wanted to be honest." He'd done that as a teenager too, when agitated. A hand in his pocket to hide the tension of a clenched fist. Pink speckling its way along the curve of his neck. In that moment, she hated knowing those things. Hated the memory of it. She wanted the Hatori that she'd met over the past few months, who kissed her with abandon and made her feel like she was flying ten thousand feet above the earth.

That Hatori was hard to reconcile with the man she now saw fully before her. A man, a teenager who had –

"Never enough to actually stop it though." Her teeth ground together mouth. "Where would you have drawn the line? When I was dead? Fat lot of good it'd have done me isn't it!?"

"I thought I was doing what was best."

"For Akito. For you." She spat it at him. "You put me back together each time. You and your father, hiding my injuries. Brushing away my nightmares. You both worked so hard to cover the evidence but did either of you actively try to stop it?" She had sold her soul to Akito at seven years of age. Sold it in a way that had left her bowed and broken time after time after time.

"You know I tried to tell my mom?" This was spoken more flippantly, Rika stepping back towards the window as a greater burst of nausea rose once more. "About it all. I wanted help. I wanted to protect you all and you know what she said? You know how she reacted? She told me it was for the good of the family! That I was exaggerating. My time in that house was a chance to make the world right, to gain our place once and for all. After Uncle Akira died, she couldn't bear to look at Akito anymore. Couldn't face Ren. So she cowered in our home and accepted that my time spent in the main house was all for some divine right."

Rika's throat felt raw with a checked scream.

The estrangement with the Sohma's she'd known of but not fully. In Okinawa, without the memory of the Sohma's, Rika had just thought it was her mother's pain at falling out with family but with the wool pulled from her eyes she could see the truth. The agony Kimiko Hayashi had had over being banished from the main estate.

Worst of all was the guilt.

Rika had been the one to make the damn choice. To pull the plug on her presence within the family as though it was something that could've been erased overnight. As though all it encompassed was a quick memory alteration and that was it. Foolish. That was what she was. Foolish.

Except fourteen-year olds ought to have been able to be foolish without crashing down worlds around them.

Where had the adults been? The guiding factions? That ones in charge?! She'd spent the last year trying to work her way back into being a good enough Sohma without stopping to consider whether they had ever deserved her in the first damn place. That guilt in her gut driving every decision. Every apology.

The Zodiac weren't to blame. A logical part of her knew that. It was the maids. The parents. The insidious strings pulled and cut and reshaped to give each of them a little sliver of power. To put them into the god's hands, to make them shine a little bit more than the person they thought they had to compete against.

Her own mother had avoided the game until Akira's death, but not as effectively as she'd believed. She'd sold out her daughter for the odds of an official acceptance into the main house. Continued to do so after Akira had died and Ren had taken over control. Ren, the woman she had complained about at length for her audacity. Her poisonous tendencies. Ren who lived in the very house Rika was sent to time and again, Ren the mother of the child Kimiko believed would be the dawning of a new age for the Sohma family. Ren who had detested Kimiko and Rika's very existence and funnelled that hatred down into her child. A child who had grown to fear her. To loathe her. To become her waking nightmare.

Hot on the heels of that recollection was a clawing sensation from her lungs. She was struggling to breathe. To cope. To live.

Hatori hadn't moved. Hadn't spoken a word. Now he was moving forward to force her head forward as gently as he could and telling her to keep drawing breath.

Wretched sobs burst from within her, eyes and nose streaming while her legs gave way. Weeping into his shoulder she wanted to yell and scream and tear at him but instead found herself clinging to his jacket as though he'd vanish in the blink of an eye.

"I didn't know." Hatori spoke softly, syllables edged with regret. "Rika, I swear I didn't know."

About what, she wanted to ask him.

He'd seen the results of the beatings. The broken bones. The vow then? The tangled desperation of Kimiko to regain a foothold in the inner workings of the house. Akito's unchecked hatred and venom.

Memories rang in her ears. The damning click of the lock in the cat's room. Akito's incomprehensible shouting. Kyo's nightmares. Her own voice, begging. Grip softening against his shoulder, Rika shoved him away. Curled herself small against the cool glass behind her.

"Don't touch me," It was rasped when he reached back for her, his hand stopping an inch from her arm at the demand, "Don't you dare."

She'd loved him. Innocently. Desperately.

Loved him in the ways that she could fathom at that age. Ways he had been old enough to recognise, ways that he had chosen to ignore when Akito had seen fit to make the demand that Rika's memories be wiped.

Fourteen. She'd been fourteen.

Everything had been taken from her. She'd begged him to leave her something and he hadn't. No wonder it had all hurt so damn much. Those feelings couldn't vanish with the snap of fingers. She'd loved them all so damn much and he'd taken that from her. He'd taken Kyo and Kisa and Momiji away. He'd taken himself.

Had she been able to think through the roaring in her ears, Rika might have paused to wonder how difficult it had been for him to do it but all she could see was the hurt she felt. That consumed her.

Keening, Rika bowed her head between her knees.

How much of it might have been solved if someone, anyone, had intervened? Her mother's negligence and subsequent failing health? The car crash that had taken her father from her? Had she been taken out of the environment sooner; would both her parents still be alive and well? Questions spun wildly in her head, demanding answers where there were none.

Her pulse was racing. She could feel it in the flutter of her heart and the way her vision clouded. Trying to channel some of Master Chiba's old advice, Rika focused on one spot ahead of her. Pinpointed all her agony towards it until her breathing settled back to something more human again. The feral, animalistic part of her wanted to see Hatori stumble and flail under the lashing of her tongue but a more powerful feeling was trying to exercise caution. To remind her that he was her ally. Even if she could hardly look at him.

"Akito." She spoke the name with venom, throwing it from the tip of her tongue like it the danger it was. "Why was she here?"

"Someone…" Hatori hedged, his hands resting against his lap betraying a spasm as he lied, "Someone told her."

Rika almost threw his promise back at him, but some bonds were difficult to overcome. Not least the ones formed between childhood friends. Kyo. She wanted Kyo. Every part of the plan for this week was falling apart. Hatori was meant to ease her into her memories over the course of a few days, allowing time for her to adapt. To ask questions. She'd been looking forward to it. To getting to know Hatori better without the hindrance of her memory. Akito's presence had been a painful accelerant to an open flame and in the wake of it, Rika felt like her very insides were on fire. The day before, she'd have sworn Hatori was the one to soothe them but he'd lied to her. The bond, their bond, had been infallible until it wasn't. How could he claim to protect her when all he'd ever done was pick up the pieces after the damage had been done? That wasn't protection, it was arrogance. Ignorance. Foolishness. She'd trusted him and he'd stood by and done nothing.

No. It was worse than that. He'd done the very thing she'd begged him not to do.

Bile sitting at the back of her mouth, she finally met his eyes and saw defeat. Rather than fuel the violence humming beneath her skin, she chose disinterest.

"Take me home."

The car ride back to Shigure's house was carried out in silence, Hatori glancing at Rika as surreptitiously as he could manage while still keeping his eyes on the road. Knuckles white against the steering wheel, the man wanted to pull the car over. To empty his stomach onto asphalt. For as long as he could remember he had been making promises that weren't kept.

Take my eyes, he begged, take my heart, take my soul. Take anything unimportant but let me be snow while she remains fire. Most of all, don't take her away again.

That prayer, he'd spoken it so often now that the man didn't know if it could be counted as effective any longer. Warning Tohru away from the Sohma family had been easy. Necessary. Warning Rika away would've been futile. The woman was as embroiled in the cursed chaos as he was, just as broken and twisted by it. That didn't mean he couldn't wish for her to have something better. More freedom. Comfort. Peace.

He wanted her but he wanted her happiness more. The Sohma family, for as much as she loved them, had not brought her that.

"I could," He began, "I could take it away again. If you wished."

The look she shot at him was mutinous and cold, a dagger to his heart. Just as quickly she turned to gaze out the window again, evening light throwing the bruises on her skin into sharper focus.

"Shut up Hatori."

He deigned to do as he was told, stomach churning with nausea. Over the past month he'd warred with himself to tell her the full extent of his involvement in her departure but he'd never known what might trigger the darker memories. What could've sent her reeling instead of giving her the answers she so desperately desired. He wanted to stop the car and vomit. He wanted to stop the car and beg her to understand, to not turn that look of hatred back towards him again. At New Year's, the man had realised that Shigure and Ayame's proclamations for him to be two thousand times happier than he had been were coming true. Seeing Rika was a balm to his soul, bond and love ensnaring him in their net until he yearned for her presence. Always an independent soul, to find himself wanting to be with someone so desperately was jarring. It was also thrilling. Exciting. Rika didn't threaten the comfort of his independence, she merely – fit into it.

Then last night had happened and the hourglass he'd allocated himself to yearn for her before making a proper move had dwindled out. Come up short.

Having her recoil from his embrace was one thing but it had been knowing that the pain she was feeling in that moment was all on him. Was all his fault. That was the worst. The most damning.

Worse, a part of him knew that there was more to come. Why else would Akito have shown up last night to try intervene? She'd not said it outright and was smart enough not to order him to withhold the memories but there'd been a knowing glint in her eyes as she'd dared him to go ahead with his plan. To give the truth back to Rika.

"She'll leave you once she remembers." Akito had laughed, "You don't know why she left but I know she'll leave. If she's smart, she'll do it soon."

That laugh sent chills down his spine and the man risked a glance to the blonde at his side. He'd not expected the change in her to be so physical. Her body sat more rigid. Jaw locked tight in anger. Still beautiful, he thought guiltily, more beautiful than ever.

Would she ever see past what he'd done? Or would she remain angry at him indefinitely. Move away to university and never come back?

Hatori mourned the very idea of it. Rika, gone.

Again.

Pulling the car into the driveway, he waited for her cue. Rika seemed to be psyching herself up for something, hands moving erratically against her seatbelt. Eventually she turned around to grab the overnight bag she'd brought with her to the lake house and clicked herself free. Stepped out.

Hatori followed, front door rattling open to reveal Shigure.

"Back so soon?" The novelist trilled, stepping out into the yard to meet them. Dark eyes flickered to Hatori as he noted Rika's expression. The hard line of her shoulders. Her fist flew out of nowhere, clocking the other man across the jaw and sending him sprawling onto the ground.

"Stay the hell out of my business from now on. Just because you want to be Akito's perpetual lapdog, doesn't mean we all do." Rika all but spat it at Shigure, head never turning back to Hatori. "I'm not some pawn in your game. Next time you try to manipulate me I'll destroy you. Do you understand?" The dog was gaping at her but still managed a nod. Hatori was almost thankful for the disaffected air she'd had with him. If the blood pooling at the edge of his cousin's mouth was any indication, she may well have knocked out a tooth.

The front door was shut with a heavy slam and Rika left both men staring after her, one baffled, the other more stupidly in love with her than he had been before.

Hatori stepped up to Shigure and offered him a hand.

"I did warn you what would happen by meddling."

"Piss off Hatori."