A/N: Please be advised this story addresses the death and funeral of Tohru's Grandpa
"Tohru, it's Aunt Ikuko. I'm sorry, but he's gone."
"You must be grieving terribly."
"We are so sorry for your loss."
"Our condolences to your family"
Tohru head the words flowing around her, a steady, quiet stream of voices. Beside her, she could hear her Aunt Ikuko, gently murmuring her thanks. But Tohru couldn't speak, couldn't make anything come out past the lump practically choking her throat.
She felt so many hands, gently clasping at hers. Returned so many bows. Tried to remember they were all here out of respect, out of pity. They were all here because they were friends, or family, or acquaintances of Grandpa. Connected, somehow, to him, or to those that loved him. She tried to remember that, even when she felt like the well-meaning faces and voices would swallow her whole.
She was vaguely aware of Kyo's hand on her back, applying gentle pressure from where he stood beside her. She could hear his voice, quietly thanking people as well. She could even hear Hajime shift against Kyo's other arm, quiet as the toddler was being. So many small noises, all blending together. How could so many small noises sound so unbearably loud?
So many faces moving past. So many she didn't know, or barely knew. So many people, speaking to her, expressing their sympathy. Empty, unknown faces.
"Our deepest sympathies to you all."
Tohru's head snapped up and she turned to see Yuki in front of her aunt, Machi at his side. Then they moved over, standing in front of Tohru, their eyes full of sympathy.
"Tohru, we are so very sorry. Your grandpa...he was such a good man."
If Tohru hadn't been crying already, she would have started then. She could feel the tears intensifying, and fought the urge to start sobbing again. Her aunt hated sobbing. It wasn't dignified, especially in the family line at a wake.
She felt Kyo's hand squeeze her shoulder, and Yuki reached out to take her hands. Both of them understood; both of them were there, in different ways. Then Yuki and Machi moved away, continuing down the line of Hondas.
"So sorry, Honda." Haru's voice was gentle, and Isuzu's hands were soft on hers. It was so kind of them to be here, especially with Isuzu so very heavily pregnant. Though the sight of them both so simply dressed and unadorned was jarring, hammering home to Tohru just how wrong this situation was.
"Tohru, I'm so sorry!" Kisa's eyes were filled with tears as well, and she looked like she wanted to pull Tohru into a hug. But Hiro's hand on her arm stayed her, and she contented herself with squeezing Tohru's hands before they moved on too. Time had been good to the two of them; they were both grown now, and in college. They had so much ahead of them, still.
"Our condolences, Tohru, to you and your entire family" Hatori's hand was firm, his voice soft. Mayuko's was almost as much.
"Dear Tohru, we are both so very, very sorry. Our deepest sympathies, to you all." Somehow, the sight of Ayame and Mine in basic funeral black was almost harder than anything else. Tohru felt her breath hitch again, the sobs threatening to bubble up even though she could feel her aunt's disapproving eyes once again turning her way.
"Tohru...I'm sorry." The sobs froze in Tohru's chest as she stared, stunned, at Akito, Shigure by her side. The family head was simply dressed in a black kimono, and her eyes were sympathetic, so very, very sympathetic. Akito never went out to anything where other Sohmas would be present, never. But she was here, now, for Tohru.
"Yes, Tohru, we're very sorry for you all. I rather liked your grandfather," Shigure said with a smile, gently touching Tohru's shoulder as they moved by.
Was it easier, or harder, to see face she knew? Did it make it better, knowing they had come because of her, because they were here to support her? Some of them had known Grandpa, others hadn't. But they'd still come. All of them.
"My dear Tohru." Hana-chan took Tohru's hands, squeezing them tightly. How was it that the sight of her friend could calm her when so many others couldn't? Was it simply the way that Hana-chan looked, as normal and natural as ever in her black? Because looking at Hana-chan, she could almost forget where they were, and why they were there?
Her heart ached. She wanted to forget, and to not. To be far away, far from the faces and the soft words and the black clothes. Away from the smell of incense, and away from the oppressive stillness. To be sitting with Grandpa in his living room once again, not standing here, desperately trying not to break down.
More faces, more condolences. Then she was aware of her aunt's hand on her arm, and her quiet voice.
"Tohru, it's time for the sutra. Please try to compose yourself, remember, there are people watching."
That was all that mattered, wasn't it? What the people watching would think of her, and what impression she'd leave about the family. About her Grandpa. She needed to remember that.
Wordlessly, she took Hajime from Kyo and held him to herself as they all made their way to the front row of the seating area. There were so many people there, she couldn't even register their presence. She knew Master Kazuma was there somewhere, and Yuki. Hana-chan. Even Akito. So many people there, supporting her. But she couldn't see any of them.
Kyo's hand was on her knee when they sat down, holding her. Grounding her. She was sure Aunt Ikuko didn't approve, if she even noticed, but Tohru didn't care. She needed this, now. That little bit of grounding, from Kyo. From Hajime. Feeling them with her, knowing she wasn't alone. Knowing that whatever else was happening right now, she still had family who loved her. Who worried about her, not about how she would reflect on them.
She could hear the priest chanting, and she tried to listen. But she couldn't concentrate, her mind drifting away to when she'd last seen her Grandpa that June. It had only been two months...just two short months since she'd seen him, smiling at her. Telling her how happy he was that she'd come...
Tohru knew she should be happy. She'd gotten more time, much more time than any of them had expected. It had been New Year's when her aunt had finally told her the cause of Grandpa's deterioration, that his heart was failing. That the end could come at any time. And it had been almost too much for Tohru to take, the finality of an actual diagnosis far more oppressive than any worried suspicion before.
But he'd lasted, lasted through June, and she'd been able to visit. He'd been so weak, bound to his futon. So small, so confused. But there had been short bursts when he'd known her, and each of those short bursts were treasures worth more than jewels. He'd told her how proud he was of her; how proud both of her parents would be. How happy he was for her, in her little family, and how he knew, always, that she would continue to do their family proud.
She'd spent so long waiting for the call that when it finally came, she should have been prepared. It had been a beautiful September morning; she couldn't believe it was only yesterday. How could it have only been yesterday?
Tohru suddenly felt a sharp nudge from her aunt and she looked up, realizing all eyes were on her. Blushing, she handed Hajime back to Kyo and hurried forward, taking her turn to approach the deceased. She hated that word. And she hated this moment; seeing her Grandpa like this, so small, so cold. She took her incense just like everyone else, went through the proper motions. But she was happy to hurry back to her seat and take Hajime once again.
Everything seemed to blur together. Chanting. People moving forward, one by one, offering respect in turn. She was aware of people bowing to the Hondas; how strange it felt, having so many people, offering her so much respect.
Because her Grandpa was gone.
Eventually, the whole group had finished, and the chanting went silent. Tohru was vaguely aware of the room emptying, of everyone leaving except for the family. Suddenly the space seemed unbearably huge, the voices of Tohru's relatives incredibly loud.
"Tohru, we're going to be heading to Nabe's for the dinner. Are you all ready?"
Tohru hadn't been paying attention, or been remotely aware of what was being discussed until her aunt was looking right at her, expectantly. And Tohru flushed again, ashamed she was couldn't manage to focus. There was so much going on, and she hadn't had to organize any of it. The least she could do was pay attention while others were figuring things out!
Once again, she felt Kyo's calming hand, this time on her waist. And he was the one to step up and answer. "Yeah, we've got everything. We'll just follow, seeing as how you're the ones who know where we're going." As he spoke, Tohru glanced at her husband, seeing that he already had the diaper bag looped over his shoulder and her purse in his hand. She was so grateful to have him here, now, looking out for her.
At the dinner, they sat with Tohru's cousins and their spouses. Tohru was aware of the conversation meandering along, of her cousins talking about jobs, and life. About how glad they were that it was a Friday, so none of them had needed to take off of work to be there. They'd made a few attempts to include Tohru in the conversation, but she was so distracted they eventually gave up. She could hear Kyo talking to them, and occasional excited babbling from Hajime. But Tohru just sat and ate, lost in her thoughts.
'If there is somewhere you'd rather be, somewhere you can be happy...'
'Kyoko needed to be somewhere she could spread her wings. You do, too.'
He's always been so kind, so unbelievably kind. He hadn't been perfect; not to her father, not to Tohru herself. But he'd admitted that. And he'd seen the error of his ways, tried to make things better. To do what he could to help them, all of them. The only one willing to help them when Katsuya died, the only one willing to speak up and defend them against the nasty insinuations of his own relatives.
He'd tried so hard to support her, after Kyoko died. Not just letting her live with him, but letting her cry. And doing what he could to help her, to keep Kyoko's memory alive.
'Are you ready, Kyoko dear?'
She'd known, somewhere in her heart, exactly what he was doing. Never before had he called her Kyoko; she'd always been Tohru, Tohru from the moment he first held her in his arms. But then, suddenly, she was Kyoko. Every time he talked to her, every time he said her name, he was tying them together. Keeping Mom's memory from fading.
It had been years now since Tohru had realized she needed to let go, to move on. That she could love her mother without putting her first in everything, without letting every other part of her life be subservient to enshrining Kyoko's position in her heart. But there had been a time, before that, when she'd needed those reminders. Needed to hear that other people remembered Kyoko, that other people had known her. And Grandpa...
Grandpa had been one of the few. And now he was gone.
"Tohru, are you about set? Hajime's starting to get squirrelly, we should probably go." Kyo's hand was on hers, and his voice was gentle. That's how he'd been all day; gentle. Present. With her, but separate from her, allowing her to think. To remember. Guiding her, keeping her safe. Always.
She looked up, actually meeting Kyo's gaze for the first time all day, and smiled slightly. "Yes, we can go."
It didn't take Hajime long to fall asleep after they got back to the dojo, or Tohru either.
"Kyo...do you mind if I go to bed? I know it's early, but I'm just so tired."
Kyo had kissed her and shaken his head. "Go. Sleep. Tomorrow's another long day."
Kazuma was sitting at the living room table when Kyo came downstairs, and he looked up as Kyo came into the room. "Is Hajime asleep, then?"
Kyo sat heavily down next to the table. "Yeah, he passed out pretty quickly. Tohru, too."
Kazuma looked at Kyo sympathetically. "How is she doing, Kyo? I was watching her earlier, and my heart practically broke for her. I had no idea his death was such a shock to her."
"Honestly, it wasn't," Kyo said, shaking his head. "If anything, the only real shock was that he lasted this long. Back at New Year's, Tohru's aunt said it could be any time, so him making it all the way to September was pretty surprising. But that doesn't make it any easier, for her."
They'd both been running around like usual, doing their typical Thursday morning routine. Tohru was finishing breakfast prep, Kyo had gotten Hajime dressed and his daycare bag ready. Then Tohru's phone rang, and she'd picked it up only to glance at it; Tohru had always had a 'no distractions while cooking' policy. Kyo was standing in the doorway with Hajime waiting for her to finish, so he clearly saw her face when she saw it was her aunt calling, her eyes widening and her face going pale. She'd answered, as quietly and politely as ever.
"Hello?" She listened for a moment, then her entire face crumbled, rapidly followed by her body in spite of her attempts to steady herself against the stove. "When?" There was a long pause, and Tohru let out a slow breath. "Yes, that all sounds good. Of course I will." Pause. "Saturday, too. Of course." Pause. "I don't know yet. I'll have to talk to him, then I'll let you know." Pause. "Yes, thank you for telling me so quickly."
Tohru's thumb hit the 'end call' button, then she dropped like a rock to the floor, her face in her hands as she sobbed.
Kyo had known this was coming the moment she answered the phone, and he was with her in an instant after first turning off the stove. Setting Hajime down, Kyo knelt down beside Tohru, pulling her into his arms and letting her grief, the grief that had been building up for so many months, finally wash over them both.
"Kyo...he's gone. He's gone!" Tohru's voice was shuddery, fighting against tears and choking sobs. Even though she knew he knew, she had to say it. Had to voice it. Had to articulate the hurt that was threatening to crush her. "Grandpa...he's gone!"
"I know, Tohru, and I'm so sorry." Kyo held her tightly, letting her cry into his shoulder. It didn't matter that both of them were already dressed for work, didn't matter that they needed to eat breakfast. All that mattered, right now, was him being there for Tohru. "So very sorry."
Eventually, Kyo had taken Tohru's phone, and called into the clinic where Tohru worked as a receptionist. "Mrs. Ito? Hi, it's Kyo Sohma, Tohru Sohma's husband? Tohru's grandfather passed away this morning, and we were just called." Pause. "Yes, thanks." Pause. "No, not today or tomorrow. Thanks for understanding."
That done, he called into the dojo. "Hey, Yamada? Don't wait for me for practice this morning. I'll be in at ten, though, so no one has to cover for me. Can you let Sensei know I need to talk to him at some point? Thanks."
Then one last call, this time to the daycare. "Hi Mrs. Chiba, it's Kyo Sohma, Hajime's father. Hajime won't be in either today or tomorrow. Thanks."
The entire time Kyo had been on the phone, Tohru had sat, crying, on the kitchen floor. Hajime had toddled in to sit with her at one point, but quickly grew frustrated with how tightly she tried to hold him and fled.
Kyo had returned to the floor, and to Tohru. "I called the clinic and told them; Mrs. Ito knows you'll be out today and tomorrow. Mrs. Chiba knows Hajime will be home today and tomorrow, too. And I'm skipping my morning practice, so I don't need to be in until class starts at ten." He held her close, gently rubbing her back. "Tell me what you want from me, Tohru, and I'll do it."
Just hearing him, having him take charge of everything and manage everything, was more than enough for her just then. But she knew what he meant, that there was so much more they had to figure out. She needed to try to calm down.
After several more minutes and a few deep breaths, Tohru could actually speak. "Today is the sitting, obviously, and Aunt Ikuko knows I can't make that. Tomorrow evening is the wake, and the funeral is Saturday morning." She looked at him, her eyes already sunken and red rimmed. "I'd like to be there for those, and I'd like it if you could come too, but I understand if you can't take the days off of work." Saturday was Kyo's weekend teaching day, so him coming would mean needing to get coverage for two days of classes. On such short notice, she wasn't sure if it would work.
But Kyo had kissed her head and held her close. "I'll talk to Sensei and see what I can do."
Sensei Kenichi was understanding, and early the next morning the Sohmas had been off on the five-and-a-half-hour trip down to Tokyo. Kyo had already told Kazuma, just like he'd reached out and told the other close members of the Sohma family, and Tohru's two friends. Tohru could use as much support as possible, right now.
After her first initial outpouring of grief, Tohru had been largely quiet, lost in her own quiet thoughts. Kyo had tried to draw her out for a bit, but eventually stepped back. When she was ready to talk, he'd be there; until there, he would simply be present.
Though being present had been a hell of a lot more work than he'd initially anticipated. The closer they got to Tokyo, the more clouded Tohru became; she barely even seemed to notice when they got to Tokyo itself, or to the dojo. By the time they made it to made it to the wake, Kyo was downright worried; it was like she was sleepwalking, rather than mourning.
He was incredibly grateful he hadn't had to send her to do this alone.
Kazuma sighed, looking down into his tea cup. "It's always extremely difficult to lose a family member, especially if they were close. And Tohru actually doesn't have all that many, does she?"
Kyo shook his head. "Nope. Her mom's family had cut her mom off ages ago, and Tohru never knew them. Her dad died when she was three, and then her mom when she was fifteen, and since then she pretty much just had Grandpa. There are a few others," Kyo's eyes narrowed and his fist clenched; he'd heard all too well the little murmurs and asides her aunt had directed at Tohru tonight. "But none of them are any good, not really. If Tohru decided to never see any of those other relatives of hers, I'd be stoked."
And honestly, he was hoping that maybe that future would finally come to pass. With the exception of Grandpa, they'd hardly seen any of Tohru's other relations prior to Hajime's birth, and none of them had done a great job of convincing Kyo that they'd changed. Especially after today.
But that was for Tohru to decide.
"Grandpa...he was pretty special to Tohru. I liked him a lot too," Kyo said, looking down at the table. "He was nice. Out of all of them, he's the only one who ever really treated Tohru like she mattered."
Kazuma sighed. "I can see why his loss would be so hard, then."
Kyo nodded. "And he's also...he was also the last person she could really talk to about both of her parents. Not that she did, not all that often, but he'd the only one who knew them both. Or her dad at all, honestly." Arisa and Saki had both known Kyoko, and the two of them could be counted on to help keep her memory alive. But Katsuya...that had all been Grandpa, as mixed as it sometimes was.
"I'm worried about her, Dad." Kyo's voice was quiet enough that Kazuma sat up a little straighter to take note. "She hasn't wanted to talk about it, at all. Tohru always wants to talk about things, always. Even if she doesn't at first, usually if I nudge her it'll all come spilling out. But she's just been...like a ghost. Did you see her at the wake tonight?"
Kazuma nodded. "Yes...she certainly seemed distracted."
"I just wish I knew what the best thing to do even is, you know? Do I try to push her more? Should I try talking about Grandpa more? Does she want to talk but is scared she'll get too emotional?" She'd been almost eerily tear-free, after that first initial sob-fest. "Does she not want to talk at all? Usually I'm pretty good at reading her, but this..." Kyo shook his head, sighing. "I just don't know."
"Grief is incredibly tricky to navigate. Has Tohru lost anyone, between now and when her mother passed?"
Kyo shook his head again. "Nope."
"So... first she lost her father, albeit at a very young age. And then her mother. And now, her grandfather, the closest link she had to her parents," Kazuma said softly. "I can imagine that it's a very difficult thing for her to navigate, both in terms of her recent loss and loss as a whole." He reached out to pat Kyo's hand. "I genuinely don't know what Tohru most wants right now, but I think you staying close to her will go a very long way."
The next morning, Tohru and Kyo had dressed once again in their black and set off. After discussing with Kazuma, Kyo had decided to leave Hajime with him; today would be long, and it would be a lot easier for Kyo to help Tohru if he didn't have to wrangle the energetic toddler. At first Kyo had wanted to see if someone else could watch Hajime; it was a Saturday, and Kazuma had class. But Kazuma had been firm.
"I'll just bring him along with me. It'll do him good, to see how a proper karate class is conducted."
Kyo wished he could have been a fly on the wall to see what mayhem a toddler could cause in class, but he was grateful and relieved to focus on Tohru. Today's activities were primarily for the family, so there would be a lot less to distract everyone.
The funeral was a bit like the wake all over again, with chanting and incense. But this time, the group was much smaller; only Grandpa's own close friends, along with the family. Tohru was still out of it, but this time, at least, she knew when to go up and pay her respects. When it was time to place the flowers in the coffin, Tohru clung fast to Kyo's hand, and he took solace in the strength of her grip.
It had been a long time since Kyo had been to a funeral, and it was a little unsettling how easily some of the rituals came back. Then, he'd been a child; blinding following along with the adults, trying to find some sense of comfort amidst dark look and angry whispers, and then losing it completely in the face of his birth father's harsh yells. He had been utterly alone.
He didn't want Tohru to feel that way, for even a moment.
Tohru continued to cling to Kyo's hand at they joined the rest of the family, escorting the coffin to the crematorium. He could feel her fingers tremble, and he drew her hand close against him. He was there, right there; whatever she was feeling, whatever she was thinking, she didn't have to face it alone.
He had to give Tohru's family credit where it was due, they weren't skimping out on anything. Every ceremony had been elaborate and extremely correct, and the food awaiting them after the final farewell to the coffin was impressive. Tohru barely took anything, though, and Kyo wasn't surprised.
They ended up sitting again with Tohru's cousin Kaito and his wife, Himiko. Both of them were nice enough, if a little disinterested; Kaito openly sighed about the funeral traditions taking so very much time, nudging at Kyo in an attempt to get some agreement. "I mean, you agree, right? You guys had to travel all the way here, and you've basically got two full days of mourning to do. And you're both lucky; neither of you'll be expected to be here for the seven-day ceremony, since you're not local. We'll need to be here for that, too," he said with a sigh. "Funerals are such a pain, it would be nice if we could just be cremated and be done."
Tohru was staring down into her rice, and Kyo gave her a sideways look before frowning at Kaito. "Honestly? We're glad to be able to be here to pay our respects. Grandpa was a good guy, it's not a problem for us to come here. We both wanted to come, for him."
Himiko gave him a smile. "You're such a softy! But I guess it makes sense, Tohru always was Grandpa's favorite."
Kaito snorted at that. "No kidding. Would have been nice if he was a little less obvious about it, though. And not like it ever made sense," he mumbled, earning him a sharp elbow jab from his wife.
"Kaito!"
"What?" He rubbed his side where she'd hit him, glowering a bit. "I mean, I'm sure even you agree, right, Tohru? Grandpa always favored you, even though my mom and dad were the ones who lived with him and took care of him these last several years. And even before that, he always favored you."
Tohru had looked up at Himiko's initial comment, bewildered. She hadn't been Grandpa's favorite; Grandpa didn't have any favorites. He'd treated her no better or worse than anyone else. Just been there for her, listened to her, supported her...called out people for her. Defended her. Fought for her, when even her own family tried to tear her down...
Was that what it was, favoring her? Was that what it was called when someone was just looking out for her, trying to keep her from drowning under the weight of cruel comments and harsh insinuations?
Kyo was startled to hear Tohru's voice. "No, he didn't favor me, not any more than anyone else. I wasn't his favorite. I was just one of the family members, the same as the rest of you. Grandpa only did for me what he would have done for any of us." Except no one else had needed him to. No one else had been so desperately alone, so hopelessly cut off from any other person who loved them.
Kaito snorted again. "Well, think what you want, Tohru, but Grandpa was never half as nice to anyone else as he was to you. And he could be downright mean to Mom and Dad. Did you know he called them horrible people? To their faces? And yet Mom is still going through all this song and dance for him," he said, looking around the room. "Because she's a good person, and she loves him even if he could suck."
Or she just cared about how things would look to other people. The thought flashed briefly through Tohru's mind, and she felt instantly ashamed. Kaito was right, Aunt Ikuko had gone to a lot of trouble and a lot of expense for the funeral. And Kaito was right, she'd definitely heard Grandpa say that about her aunt and uncle at least once! If she agreed, if she felt they'd deserved it...did that justify the rudeness?
Kaito sighed, poking at his food. "Whatever. He's dead now, and we're all here, going through the correct motions. Never mind what any of us might rather be doing, or how any of us would have done this, given the chance."
Tohru was looking down again, and her eyes had started to well up. That was finally enough for Kyo, who'd been trying very hard to bite his tongue until now.
"Hey, we get it. You want to be tossed in a bonfire and pitched into the sea after you're dead, whatever. But this isn't about you, and some people are actually upset about this," he said, his voice cold. "Have some damn respect, would you?"
There had been a time where Kyo would have flown off the handle, letting his feelings justify him giving way to yelling and rage. But while that Kyo was gone, he still had the same low tolerance for anyone ever daring to make Tohru cry.
Kaito gave Kyo a wary look, and his eyes flicked to Tohru. He wasn't surprised she was crying; she'd only been teary eyed almost the entire day so far, so why wouldn't she be crying now?
But fine, whatever. It wasn't worth getting into a pissing contest with Tohru's scary husband. Another favorite of Grandpa's, for another inexplicable reason.
Stiffly, Kaito turned to Himiko. "I'm going to get some more food. Would you like to come?"
She gave Kyo and Tohru an apologetic look, then nodded. "Sure."
Once Tohru and Kyo were alone at the table, Kyo gave full reign to his scowl as he stabbed at his food. "Asshole." Then he looked up when Tohru's hand came to touch his, and he saw to his amazement that she was smiling.
"Thank you, Kyo."
He hadn't seen her smile, not really. Not for two entire days. And seeing it was a massive load off of his mind. "No problem, Tohru. He was being a jerk to you, I'm sorry."
She shook her head. "No, it's ok. I never thought about it before, but maybe there was an element of truth to what Kaito was saying. Grandpa...I know that he's said some pretty mean things to Aunt Ikuko before."
Kyo's eyes narrowed. "If you're talking about that 'horrible people' thing, then I know that at least one time he said it was damn justified. More than one, probably. Remember what she said the first time she met Hajime?"
Neither one of them was likely to forget that; Ikuko had been exclaiming happily over the baby, but thought it would be fun to 'joke' about his hair. "You must be so relieved, Kyo! There's no question at all you're the father." On its own, the 'joke' had been in breathtakingly poor taste. Coupled with the fact that Ikuko had spent years attacking Tohru's morals and character, and that Tohru herself had as a child been subject to ugly rumors about her own paternity due to her lack of resemblance to Katsuya...it had been enough to make Kyo see red.
Tohru was looking down again, and Kyo took her hands. "Hey, Tohru, it's ok. Whatever Grandpa said to them, we both know it can't have been more than they deserved. Maybe if they wanted to be closer to Grandpa, they should have tried to be better people. People more like you," he said, smiling. "I mean, even if Grandpa did like you the best, all I can say is he had good taste."
Tohru smiled again, a little, wobbly-lipped smile. "I miss him, Kyo," she said, her voice soft.
"I know, Tohru. And that's ok. He was a good guy; he deserves to be missed."
Kyo was a little worried about Tohru during the urn ceremony, but she was surprisingly focused and resilient, never dropping a single thing. He was relieved; out of every part of the day's proceedings, that had been the one that gave him the most anxiety.
It was almost a relief to finally be back out at the cemetery, standing in front of the familiar Honda family grave. They could read the names of Tohru's parents on the wooden stakes, along with Tohru's grandmother and other relatives. A new stake had joined them, simply bearing the name 'Osamu Honda.' The family stood, gathered around, while the Grandpa's urn was tucked in with the other family members. And then...it was done.
For a little while, the family all stood, silently reflecting. The very air felt heavy, as though everyone was thinking, but no one knew what to say. But finally, Ikuko broke the silence, coming over to stand by Tohru and Kyo where they stood still looking at the grave.
"Tohru, I know you both must need to get going soon, but I'd hoped that you two could come over to the house for a little while, first. We'd like to quickly address the will, while you're here, so that everything can be handled quickly and expeditiously.
Kyo couldn't believe this was happening; Grandpa had barely been in the grave for fifteen minutes, and she wanted to talk about the will? Once again, he found himself fighting to keep himself civil; once again, it was a challenging proposition.
"Yeah, we can come along, after we're done saying our respects here. Does that work for you?"
Ikuko might not have been overly pleased with his tone, but she couldn't fault him his words. "Yes, that should be fine. Take your time, just not too much of it. We're going to be leaving now," she added, nodding to the rest of the family.
It was a relief when the others were finally gone, and it was just Tohru and Kyo in front of the grave. Kyo was watching Tohru again, looking on as she read each of the grave stakes in turn. Then she turned back to him, her eyes teary but her expression strangely at peace. "You know, Kyo, I never knew my grandma. She died before I was even born. Apparently, when she died, it changed Grandpa, and made him softer. He missed her so very much, it made him look back on his relationship with my dad, and made them...closer. He didn't want to lose Dad without them fixing things between them." She looked up at the grave, reading the name 'Katsuya Honda.'
"None of them expected the time they'd had would be so short, but Grandpa...he was still happy. He told me that, once. That those last years were the best, because they'd mended things. He still lost Dad, but he had happy memories. And he had Mom, and he had me." She looked to her mom's stake, reading 'Kyoko Honda' with a sniffle. "And he loved us, so much. And he took care of us."
Tohru's eyes were looking at the fourth stake, now, 'Honoka Honda.' But he missed Grandma, so much. Everything that came after was to help him cope with losing her. And I just...I can't imagine what that must have been like, to love so deeply, to lose them, and to have to carry on." Tohru's eyes were back on Kyo now, and the tears were overflowing. Soundlessly, he took her into his arms, holding her close.
"I think...I think he's happy now, Kyo. Happier than he's been in so long. He's with Grandma again, and Dad. And Mom. And that has to be a good thing, right? I'm so selfish, missing him like this," she sniffled against Kyo's suit coat, "but he has to be happy, right?"
And Kyo's own voice was soft. "I think you're right, Tohru. I really do."
Tohru felt infinitely lighter as the two of them made their way back to Grandpa's house...Aunt Ikuko's house, now. The grief was still there, raw and real, but realizing that Grandpa was together with the ones he'd lost...
She'd needed him, and he'd been there for her. He'd kept her together, reminding her she wasn't alone. That she was loved. And she'd always love him for it.
But...she didn't need that reminder any more, did she? Because she knew, every day. She knew by the kind words from her friends. The hugs from her real family, the one she'd chosen and who had chosen her. The small happy giggles from Hajime.
The strong, loving presence of Kyo, always beside her when she needed him.
Grandpa had had that, once; she could only hope he'd had it again now.
In spite of the fact they were barely half an hour behind the others, everyone was already waiting with the lawyer when Tohru and Kyo came into the living room. Kyo was incredulous; even if it was 'easier' to do all of this now, the whole thing seemed wildly inappropriate. But he kept his mouth shut, simply sitting down beside Tohru in the proffered chairs.
As soon as they were settled, the lawyer stood up. "Now that everyone is here, we can get started. Please know that this will be very quick; the distributions are very straightforward." He unfolded a paper, and began to read.
"Being that Osamu Honda, husband of the late Honoka Honda, is in possession of no living relatives outside of his direct descendants, the estate will be divided as follows: fifty percent to each of Mr. Honda's two children, Ikuko Nakano and Katsuya Honda. As Katsuya Honda had predeceased Osamu Honda, his share will be passed to his only child, Tohru Sohma." The lawyer looked up from the paper, eyeing the room dispassionately. "Are there any questions?"
Ikuko looked over at him. "Was there any further information on how things would be distributed?"
The lawyer nodded. "Assuming the heirs are in agreement, then Mr. Honda's share of the residence and his physical property will be calculated into the share going to Ikuko Nakano, with the remainder made up of liquid assets, while Tohru Sohma's share will consist entirely of liquid assets. This was at the wish of Mr. Honda."
Ikuko sighed, looking over at Tohru. "Well, I suppose it would made things infinitely easier that way, since he and I jointly owned the house. But I'll want to take a look at the valuation they're using for the house and physical property."
The lawyer nodded. "Of course."
The whole time, Tohru and Kyo had been sitting in stunned silence. They both knew enough about inheritance to expect that Tohru would get something, but neither of them had expected it to be half!
Tohru was trembling, and very confused. She was aware of her cousins trying hard not to look jealous, and her aunt's quiet resignation. "I'm sorry, but...how is it that I get half, and none of my cousins get anything?" The lawyer had said it was because her father had died, but that couldn't be all. Could it?
The lawyer looked at her. "Tohru Sohma?"
She nodded, and he lowered the paper. "This is about as clear a property division as we can ask for, Mrs. Sohma. In cases where there is no living spouse or other relatives, such as parents or siblings, the decedent's estate is divided equally between their children. If any of those children are deceased, then their share would pass to their living children. As the only child of Mr. Honda's deceased son, you inherit his half of the estate."
Ikuko was looking at Tohru with obvious embarrassment. "I'm sure you ought to have known that, Tohru; Mr. Aoki already said so, and it's the standard."
Tohru looked down, blushing again, and Kyo bristled defensively. "Hey, it's not like she has a lot of experience, you know."
Ikuko sighed. "I know, I shouldn't be surprised. It's not like Kyoko left anything to really distribute, anyway." She turned back to the lawyer. "Do you have any information about the amounts? I know there's still the matter of taxes to sort out, but are there any rough figures?"
The lawyer gave her a paper, which she studied closely. "What year is this valuation, again?"
"I believe it was done this past spring, so it should be close to the current value."
Ikuko nodded, then passed the paper over to Tohru. "I assume you don't have any complaints?"
Tohru didn't know what she was expecting to see as she took the paper, and at first she didn't quite know what she was looking at. She saw a heading with her aunt's name, and several items listed with numbers after them, including her Grandpa's house. She hadn't known he shared ownership with Ikuko, but it made sense; they'd been living together since Tohru's first year of high school, and Ikuko's family had sold their house to move in.
Tohru's eyes found her own name, then she froze, looking at the number below. There was nothing else listed, beyond that one number. Just her name, and an amount. But that amount...
Kyo was slightly more expressive. "Holy shit."
Tohru couldn't believe it; how was it possible that Grandpa had had so much money? He'd been on a pension for years, and before that he was a teacher; how was it possible for him to have saved so much?
Ikuko was smiling wryly at Tohru and Kyo's faces. "Yes, Dad was always very careful with his money. And he was pretty fortunate in his investments, especially these past few years. You're a lot more fortunate than a lot of other young people your age."
As Kyo wanted to say, no fucking shit.
Tohru and Kyo were staring at each other in stunned disbelief. Even factoring in taxes, this was more than the two of them made in a year. It seemed wrong, to accept such a gift. Wrong, to profit from Grandpa's death.
Kyo could see that Tohru was struggling, and he took her hands. "Hey...calm down. We don't have to do anything about this right now, ok? This is just a preliminary. Just figuring everything out. It'll probably take a while to sort out, and there'll be taxes and stuff..."
The lawyer jumped in. "Am I to take this as meaning that the heirs are in agreement as to the division of assets?"
Ikuko looked at Tohru. "I trust you're alright taking your portion in yen? I can't imagine it would easy or preferable for you to worry about any of the furniture or household items, or the house itself. Especially since I already own half."
Kyo looked at Tohru and nodded slightly; it made sense to him, if it made sense to her. He definitely didn't want to have to worry about going through the house and sorting things out with Tohru's aunt.
And Tohru agreed. "Yes, I'm fine with this, if you are Aunt Ikuko."
Ikuko nodded and looked back at the lawyer, who was writing on his clipboard. Then he looked up. "Since this division is so straightforward and uncontested, I imagine it won't take too long to probate. Please check and make sure your addresses and contact information are both correct, Mrs. Nakano and Mrs. Sohma, and we'll be in touch with more information later." He also passed them each a business card. "And if there's nothing else you need, I'll take my leave now. My condolences on your loss."
After the lawyer left, Ikuko turned back to Tohru and Kyo. "Well, I imagine you two have a lot to do to get ready to go back north. You don't have to stay any longer, if you don't want to."
Tohru and Kyo were happy to take that as the dismissal it was intended to be. Tohru gave hugs to her aunt, uncle, and cousins, and they all said their goodbyes. Then Tohru and Kyo were back on the street, making their way back to the dojo.
They didn't say anything, not at first. It was all too much for Tohru to process, and Kyo wanted to wait for her to bring it up. Any of it. Instead, the two of them simply walked along together, her hand in his.
It was a couple blocks before Tohru was ready to talk. "I just...don't know what to think about it, Kyo. It seems so wrong, doesn't it? To get money, because Grandpa isn't here anymore?" She shook her head. "I feel like such a vulture!"
"Hey, none of that. You're not the one who went straight from burying your own father to carping about his will," Kyo said with a growl. Whatever else the past couple days had done, they had firmly cemented the fact that Tohru's family, while not terrible, were definitely not pleasant. If Kyo never had to be around them again, he'd be happy.
But he could see that Tohru was bothered, and he hated that. Honestly, he was a little bothered too, if just for the fact he didn't quite know what to feel.
"Don't feel guilty, Tohru. You didn't do anything; we both know you would have single-handedly kept him alive, if you could." She smiled sadly at that, looking down at the sidewalk. They both knew he was right.
"But you couldn't. Grandpa...he knew it was time, I guess. And he wanted you to have it. He always has wanted to take care of you, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that extended to saving." Even if it was an eye-popping amount. "And we don't have to do anything about it, not right away. We can just sit on it in our savings. With Hajime, it won't be a bad thing, having more savings."
Tohru was nodding. Kyo was always so practical, and so considerate. But maybe...
"Thank you, Kyo. And that all sounds good. Really. But you know...maybe there is something we can consider, once we have the money? Not right away, of course, and not all of it," she was quick to tack that on, not wanting to spook him or seem greedy. "But what would you think about maybe...looking at houses?"
They had lived in their rental house since their very first day in Hibe. It was the house they'd walked into the first day of their new life together, beyond graduation. The house they'd come home to after getting engaged. The house they'd returned to as newlyweds. Where they'd brought home Hajime. It was a dear house, a wonderful house. A house they both loved.
But it was a small house, and a house growing smaller day by day. It was a house for a couple just starting out, or a couples winding down. Not a house for a family, especially not one hoping to grow even more.
Kyo took in a deep breath, then looked at Tohru and smiled. "Yeah...we could maybe start looking at houses."
As they made their way down the street, fingers interlaced, both Tohru and Kyo smiled. Grandpa would be missed...so very dearly missed. Tohru would always love him for all he'd done for her, and Kyo would love him for trying to take care of her. He would always be with them both.
Tohru hoped, if he knew their plan, he would be happy.
'Kyoko needed to be somewhere she could spread her wings. You do, too.'
A/N #2: I really debated writing this one, because death and grief are not topics that normally appeal to me (fluff forever!). But I feel like it was necessary to address, and I really wanted to look into how it would affect Tohru, how she would handle it, and how the family would handle it. I did my best to accurately portray Japanese death/funeral traditions and inheritance, but please excuse any liberties.