A/N: I've been working on this on and off since late 2020, and even though I really like it, I wasn't sure I'd ever get around to posting it. A few lovely people expressed interest in it on Twitter, though, so I decided that's a sign I need to put it up. 3

I have the first 4 chapters written, so updates will be really quick at first, after that it'll be on a rotation with my State of Grace series.

I hope you enjoy.

"Do you...love me?"

"Isn't there any way I can get you to see the truth? To accept that I love you, and nothing you say will change that!"

"I'm...disappointed in you."

This conversation replays itself in Kyo's head at least once a day. It comes at the most random, inconvenient times. He can be working at the dojo, be in the middle of showing students how to throw a punch, when it hits him and he has to call a water break. He can be cooking, and he zones out and burns the food. He's missed his stop on the train more than a few times.

It had been his question in the first place. For some stupid fucking reason, he'd chosen that night to grow a pair and ask how she felt. Then, he'd trampled her feelings again, like he always managed to.

And then...Akito. The cliff.

He'd kissed her. He didn't know why he did; looking back on it, it feels like a huge violation of her right to give consent, and he can't think about that without wanting to throw himself off a bridge.

That was the last time he saw her.

Uotani and Hanajima hadn't let him into the hospital, an action that Kyo knew was truly right. Tohru didn't deserve to see him and start hurting again. And he didn't deserve to see her at all.

The curse broke the day she was discharged. He'd cried. Not out of relief, but out of the unsettling pain in his gut. The grief of realizing that he'd thrown everything good in his life away the night he rejected her. He'd done it in an odd attempt to protect both her and himself, because he knew the curse would never break. Yet it ended up doing so, and he was left with nothing.

After she was discharged, Tohru moved in with Hanajima's family until the end of high school. Then she'd moved out and started her own life. Kyo hasn't heard from her again since.

And that's right. It's the way things are supposed to be.

Kyo has gotten very good at cooking over the past two years, since he's moved out of Shigure's house and doesn't have Tohru's skills to rely on anymore. But tonight is part of his day off, and he's feeling less than motivated. He stands with the fridge door open, hands in the pouch-pocket of his hoodie, eyes scanning the shelves. He tries to connect the various foods into a meal in his mind, but nothing sounds even remotely edible. Kyo sighs and closes the fridge, surrendering to his laziness and grabbing his cell phone to call for takeout. But he gets distracted by a text he'd somehow missed when it first came in.

The message is from a contact labelled "Haru." Kyo debates his next move for a minute—he really doesn't feel like putting up with any of Haru's weird antics tonight—but opens the text, in the end. He's become pretty disconnected from the Sohmas since he graduated high school and moved into his own apartment. But he is in the loop enough to know that they have a family dinner every Tuesday, so there's probably a large gathering of people taking place at Shigure's right now.

"There's someone here you're going to want to see."

Kyo frowns slightly, unsure what exactly he was supposed to take away from that ambiguous line of text. Haru has always been a little bit of an airhead, and it probably didn't occur to him that this makes no sense, Kyo thinks. His thumbs tap a response out.

"I really don't feel like dealing with any Sohmas tonight."

The reply comes almost immediately.

"Not a Sohma."

Kyo's mind ticks through a list of people he regularly communicates with, which he knows isn't incredibly long, to be honest. And among that list of a few names, there is absolutely no one he wants to see at the moment. What he really wants to do is order takeout Chinese and lie in bed, watching TV and stuffing his face.

Kyo's about to ignore the message and continue his search mission for sustenance when Haru texts again.

"Just come. You won't regret it."

Kyo groans and leans back against his kitchen wall, banging his head on it a few times. He doesn't want to go. But he also kind of does. After a moment, he clenches his fists and stands up straight, going to get his shoes on. Curiosity has gotten the best of him yet again.

As he walks down the street toward the train station, one phrase plays on repeat in his head: Curiosity killed the cat. It would be silly to think that death awaits his arrival at Shigure's, of course, but it is a very real possibility that he will at least suffer emotionally. Kyo knows that. The Sohmas equal pain—always have, always will. But he gets on the train anyway.

As Kyo walks up the front steps about a half hour later, his mind is still spinning, trying to figure out the meaning behind Haru's words. Whoever this person is, they'd better be worth putting up with Yuki and whoever else is there all night.

He knocks on the door to announce his arrival, but then just goes in anyway. He kicks off his Converse sneakers and heads into the living room, where he's immediately greeted by Haru, Momiji, Shigure, and Kisa. Rin, Yuki, and Hiro are also here, but don't seem moved by Kyo's sudden appearance at all. Then again, Rin and Hiro are never really pleased to see anyone; why they're even here in the first place is a mystery.

Kyo is briefly taken aback by how many of his cousins are holding glasses of wine. It makes him realize just how long it's been since he's been back here. They're of age now. Kyo can have a glass if he wants to, as well, of course, but the idea that they're all so grown up is foreign, odd. A wave of loneliness sweeps over Kyo as he realizes that, while he decided to leave everyone behind, the rest of them have all remained so close. He swallows, as if that can quell the strange feeling in his chest.

"So? Why am I here?" he asks Haru after pleasantries have been exchanged.

"Because of her," Haru says simply, tilting his head toward the back of the living room. There, sitting on her knees with her back against the wall, is a familiar brunette. She's gotten older like the rest of them, making her look a bit different than before, but Kyo could never forget those hypnotizing brown eyes. They're large as they study his face. Kyo freezes at the sight of her, and the girl is seemingly locked in place, as well.

After a moment, Kyo forces himself to look away, staring at the floor instead. "You suck, Haru," he mumbles, but summons his courage and makes his way over to the girl despite his reluctance.

"Tohru," he says coolly, sitting down near her.

The hand that is holding Tohru's wine glass trembles slightly. She sets it down on the floor and instead busies her hands by smoothing her skirt awkwardly. "Kyo," she replies simply, forcing herself to make eye contact with the orange-haired boy.

Kyo clears his throat uncomfortably. "How have you been?"

He knows how she's been. Haru has kept him informed over the past two years, and even though Kyo had never asked for updates about Tohru's well-being, he's secretly grateful to Haru for this.

Tohru looks away again. "Fine. Just working and…" she trails off there, then starts down a different path. "How are you?"

Kyo half-shrugs, trying to figure out this girl that he had once known so well. He knows that she has been having a hard time lately. She had been engaged to someone she met at work. They had started dating right out of high school, making him Tohru's first real boyfriend, and they rushed into things. Tohru had suffered because of this. She had been taken advantage of. How anyone could do that to this beautiful, kind young woman is beyond Kyo's realm of understanding. But, if he's being honest with himself, and facing his demons, Kyo has to admit that he's really no better.

"Me too," Kyo says finally. He shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie again. The uncomfortable sensation in his chest is increasing in intensity, and it's causing words to form on the tip of his tongue. But he isn't sure if he can bring himself to say them.

"I'm sorry…" he chokes out finally. "I should have kept in touch with you."

And then, in the iciest tone Kyo has ever heard from Tohru Honda, she replies quietly, "It was for the best."

Kyo feels himself gag slightly at the amount of emotion that wells up in his throat at those words. It's clear that Tohru doesn't really want to be talking to him. The fact that she is still sitting here at all is probably just a result of the politeness that had been instilled in her from a young age. She probably used any mean-spirited energy she had stored up in her body on the sentence she had just uttered.

Any reasonable man would just mumble another apology and walk away, Kyo knows. But he's never been exactly reasonable. And Tohru is radiating light. She's always radiated light, and it has never failed to draw Kyo closer, until he gets sucked into her orbit. Tonight is no different. So, he finds himself trying again.

"I heard about your breakup. I'm really sorry."

Tohru flinches a bit at the word "breakup." Kyo watches her closely. Are those tears in her eyes?

"Another thing that was for the best," she says. "I need more wine," she adds a moment later, a weak excuse to leave the room, considering her glass is still near capacity. Kyo knows she just wants space to process his unexpected appearance. She's never been a good liar.

But again, Kyo is not reasonable, and he doesn't know how to take a hint. He follows Tohru into the kitchen, where she just stands staring at the bottle of alcohol in front of her. Her brown eyes flit back over to Kyo after a moment.

"Kyo…" she mumbles. Kyo just looks at her quietly, waiting for her to continue. She still doesn't sound thrilled, but she's initiating conversation—he'll take what he can get. "Why are you here?"

Kyo blinks a few times. He can't very well tell her that Haru had told him to come see her. So instead, he gives her a half truth. "I didn't feel like cooking tonight, and I figured that whatever was here had to be better than take-out."

Hurt flashes over Tohru's features for a moment, but it's such a fleeting expression that Kyo doesn't even have time to catch it before it's gone.

"Well, it's on the counter over there. Help yourself."

Kyo grimaces, mentally kicking himself for what he had said. "Can we talk?" he asks, trying to repair whatever damage he had just done.

"Why?" Tohru asks harshly, turning to face him head-on. She's getting emotional; Kyo can tell by her flushed cheeks and glazed over eyes. She's clearly holding back tears.

"Please…" he murmurs. "Give me five minutes."

Tohru crosses her arms and looks back into the living room. If anyone has noticed that she and Kyo are hanging out together in the kitchen, they aren't letting on, continuing their own conversations instead. After a moment of deliberation, she nods reluctantly.

Despite the look of discomfort on Tohru's face, Kyo feels this to be a small victory, though he doesn't quite know why. Sure, it might make him feel better to talk to Tohru, to tell her that he knows he's an asshole and that he's sorry about that...but what will it do for her? Nothing. If anything, just cause her more heartache. But he can't stop himself, so he walks back outside and around to the back of the house. Tohru trails behind him silently, arms still crossed over her chest as if to protect herself from something.

Kyo chuckles to himself when he sees that the ladder to the roof is still in its place, as if it has become an integral part of the house's structure.

"After you," he says, gesturing to the ladder. Tohru complies and climbs up, Kyo behind her.

As they sit together, the pair watch the sunset quietly for a bit. Kyo is busy trying to think of what exactly he wants to say (words are hard for him, especially when they need to take the form of a sincere apology), and Tohru is waiting, tapping her right index finger on her knee to curb her anxiety.

Finally, Kyo takes a deep breath. "I regret everything I said that day."

At this, Tohru sighs, then starts to speak. Kyo cuts her off. "Please...please let me finish."

Tohru shuts her mouth again and stares at Kyo expectantly.

"I was stupid," Kyo continues, "and selfish. I...promised myself back then that I'd never trample you again. That I'd listen to your feelings. And I failed at that." At this point, he glances over at Tohru, hoping to see any kind of reaction. But she is quiet, eyes downcast, her finger still rapping, tempo sporadic, against her leg.

So, Kyo takes another deep breath. "I...was in love with you that day, too. I wanted to be with you. And maybe, if I had made that clear instead of pushing you away, things would be different now. Maybe you wouldn't have dated that douche bag. And maybe we'd be together." Shakily, Kyo sighs and gets to his feet. Tohru hasn't moved from her original position, and he's pretty much out of words.

"So, I'm sorry," he calls over his shoulder, making his way to the ladder. "I let you down, and I'm sorry. That's all I wanted to say."

All of a sudden, at lightning speed, a small hand darts out and catches onto the bottom of his jeans, holding his leg in place. Kyo stiffens at the contact, turning over his shoulder to look at Tohru again. She's stretched out to reach him, and is practically lying on her stomach now. Once she sees that Kyo stopped, she lets go and straightens herself back up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, too," she whispers, her voice so quiet it's almost inaudible. "It was unfair of me to spring everything on you that day. I should have expected that kind of response."

Kyo cringes and kneels down next to her again, watching her carefully. She's always doing this—taking on the blame for things that aren't her fault. Hell, she probably thinks that it's her fault her ex-fiance had cheated on her, too. Probably sees it as a logical response to some character flaw she has invented within her mind. Kyo slumps forward, putting his hands on the roof in front of him to hold himself up.

"Please don't do that…" he mumbles. "Not everything is your fault, Tohru."

He hears her inhale sharply, and forces himself to make eye contact. "I was the one who asked if you loved me, after all. All you did was answer."

"But I'm still taking it out on you now, after all this time. This happened two years ago. I should just forget about it and move on."

Though that is uncomfortable to hear, he'd been half-expecting her to say such a thing. Forget about it and move on—it's probably time that he does that, too. Maybe, now that the curse is broken, and he has an actual career, he can find love somewhere. Deep down, he knows he isn't worthy of that, though. Not of her love, or of anyone else's. But he hopes she finds someone good. She deserves to be loved.

Kyo nods and stands back up, again heading to the ladder. Tohru stops him again, this time with her voice instead of physical touch.

"I think about you all the time."