Love Remains 9.

~~~~~~~

by girl_starfish

Yellow eyes fixed on her. "I'm surprised. I didn't think the rest of the family would care to acknowledge my presence." He jumped out of the tree, landing lightly before Tohru. With a fluid movement he tossed his white hair over his shoulder, resuming his study of her. "So, Honda Tohru," he said. "Who's been talking about me?"

"Ah--Yuki's told me about you, Kagura and Momiji too--and Shigure of course--" Tohru said hastily, taking a step back from the dripping form in front of her.

"It's always Shigure, isn't it," Ayame muttered, gaze darkening. "Figures." He turned his back on Tohru, drawing his hair over one shoulder.

"But--" Tohru stared in consternation. "Aren't you friends?"

"We were," Ayame turned back to look at her, smiling humourlessly. "And then I died."

"But--" Tohru stammered.

"Of course--He wouldn't want to tell you that, would he?" Ayame began gathering his hair into a plait, still watching Tohru unblinkingly. "I think you'll find there's a lot 'Gure hasn't told you."

Tohru stared at him. Ayame was nothing like the smiling boy she'd seen in the photos. His smile now was bitter, and coldness seemed to hang over him like a shroud--pretty apt since he was dead, her mind supplied helpfully.

She did not need that thought.

Ayame spoke again and she shivered.

"It's his fault, you know. If it hadn't been for him--I might have had a chance. I might not be dead."

Tohru gasped. "But--I'm sure Shigure would never mean to hurt--"

"It was always him--as far back as I can remember. Hatori always talked to him--I would have done anything for Hari, but--there was this connection between them. Somehow, I was just never enough." Ayame's eyes slipped from Tohru's, clouded with memory. "I hoped though--I never gave up trying--and then, thanks to precious 'Gure, I lost even that."

She was afraid of him. Ayame seemed to possess a darkness that Shigure didn't have--a darkness Tohru found terrifying. But his words--she could see the pain he felt, raw and fresh. "Wh-what happened? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to--but, sometimes talking to someone can help and you--can't have many people to talk to," Tohru shut her eyes, aware she was babbling. "I--uh--"

Ayame glanced at her sharply, his eyes wide with surprise. "I--"

"I'm sorry!" Tohru apologised. "It was very forward of me! I shouldn't have presumed--"

"It happened here," Ayame said. He'd turned his back on her again, and his voice was distant. "I was sitting in the tree, thinking--and Hari--"

--oOo--

"You're going to grow lichen."

"Eh?" Ayame blinked, startled out of his daydream. He looked down to see Hatori standing at the base of the willow, his expression serious. "Hari?"

"You spend any more time in a tree and you'll grow lichen," Hatori repeated. "You've already started to put down roots."

"Oh yeah?" Ayame pushed himself off the branch, landing neatly in front of Hatori. "I beg to differ."

"Careful," Hatori said, reaching out to carefully remove a leaf from Ayame's silvery hair. "You could hurt yourself."

Ayame blushed. Hatori's touch was so gentle--and he was so close. It was like a moment from a dream--just Hatori and him alone . . .

"You came out here just to tell me that?" he asked, hoping to prolong the moment.

Hatori's expression clouded and he withdrew his hand. "Actually, no. I--We need to talk, Ayame."

This did not sound good. "We're talking now--"

"This is serious, Aya," Hatori frowned. "I--you--you have feelings for me, don't you?"

It was his fondest hope and his worst nightmare all in one. Hatori knew.

"Hari--" Ayame whispered. "How--"

"Subtlety has never exactly been your strong point," Hatori said, moving to stand at Ayame's shoulder so they were both looking out over the river. "It was kind of obvious."

Embarrassed, Ayame looked at his feet. "Does anyone else . . . ?"

"Only Shigure, I think. And he won't tell--he understands the importance of this."

"You've discussed this?" That stung. That the two of them could talk about something so personal--

"Yes. I've been aware of your feelings for quite some time--but I wasn't sure of how I should approach you about them. I was hoping that given time you might grow out of this phase--"

Phase? Ayame just stared at Hatori. This couldn't be happening.

"--But Shigure thought I should talk to you. He thought it was crueller to let you hope."

It was always Shigure, wasn't it? Ayame was ashamed to find hot tears biting at his eyes. He brushed them away angrily. "And what the hell does he know about it?"

"Ayame--don't be mad at him. This has nothing to do with 'Gure."

"Then why does he know all about it?" The anger was the only thing stopping him from falling apart and he clung to that desperately.

"He's your friend, he's concerned about you. We both are--you have not been acting like yourself lately and we're worried."

"Really? Hell of a way to show it," Ayame spat. "This was supposed to be a pep talk? Go away, Hari."

He turned, intending to seek refuge in his willow tree but Hatori caught his hand, held him back.

"Aya--you must understand--I do love you--just as a best friend or a brother--"

"--but not how I want you to love me," Ayame finished slowly. "I understand perfectly, Hatori." He tugged his hand out of Hatori's. "Now leave me alone."

Hatori didn't stop him from climbing back up the tree but he didn't leave. "You're alright?"

"I'm fine," Ayame said sullenly.

Hatori hesitated. "Aya--you're not going to blame Shigure for this, are you? This is between you and me."

"It's always about 'Gure, isn't it? You worry about him more than you worry about yourself."

"That's only because I've never tried to dive off the gazebo roof," Hatori said dryly. "Aya, I don't want to muck up you and 'Gure's friendship. You're very important to him."

"I don't want to hear it!" Ayame said, deliberately not looking at Hatori. "Just get the hell away from me and tell your precious 'Gure that if he comes near me I'll take his head off."

Hatori sighed. "Aya, you're being overly dramatic. It's not like that and you know it."

Ayame ignored him. After a few minutes he heard Hatori leave. Only when he was sure he was alone did he allow himself to feel.

It was a curious sensation, dwelling on what had maybe half an hour before been treasured hopes and dreams--now irreparably shattered. And in their place--hurt, grief, and the stinging of betrayal.

--oOo--

"Some friends," Ayame said, chin resting on his knees, plait gently teased by the breeze. He was seated amongst the higher branches, flimsy things that wouldn't have been enough to support his weight--had he had any.

"I'm sorry," Tohru said, wiping tears from her eyes with one hand--the other hand was securely wrapped around the tree trunk as she sat on a lower branch. "It must have been very hard for you to learn that your feelings weren't reciprocated and to feel abandoned by your best friends on the same day--"

Ayame dropped down to her branch, gracefully kneeling beside her. He gently lifted the hair away from her face. "You're crying."

"But they didn't abandon you!" Tohru said, looking up into Ayame's eyes, her expression determined. "Shigure talks about you all the time--he really misses you--and Hatori has never got over the both of your deaths. They care about you--they both do."

Ayame just stared at her, his countenance shocked.

Tohru blushed. She'd put her foot in it again. "I'm sorry, I should not have spoken--"

"It's alright," Ayame said, a soft smile creeping over his face. "I'm glad you did."

He looked--kind of softer now. More human. Tohru was no longer afraid of him. And now that her fear was gone she could notice things about him--that his eyes were almost the same shape as Yuki's, that the way they glowed when the light hit them was very compelling, that Ayame was incredibly attractive--and she'd just blurted out the first thing that had come into her head to him like some idiotic baby.

She blushed, looking away.

In her intentness on persuading Ayame, she'd let go of the branch she was sitting on. A sudden gust shook the tree and she lost her balance. "Ah--!"

She was slipping and she reached out wildly, trying to find something to hold on to--

--and was suddenly caught up in something firm and cold.

Tohru gasped as she realised Ayame was holding her. She was even more concerned to realise that they were in mid air. She shut her eyes tightly, clinging to Ayame as tightly as she could. She'd never been so scared--

Her feet hit something solid. The ground. A moment later the cold form she clung to dissipated under her fingers leaving her safely on the grass with Ayame nowhere in sight.

Tohru's knees buckled, and she sat down hard.

"Tohru!" Hands were there, supporting her, brown eyes worriedly studying her. "Are you all right?"

"Momiji," Tohru said faintly. "What are you doing here?"

"I came out here to thank you for finding Momo--and I saw you fall--but you didn't . . ." Momiji trailed off, eyes widening.

Tohru followed his gaze upwards.

Ayame was sitting on one of the branches, smirking. "What's wrong, little cousin? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"Aya--" Momiji's voice shook.

"Take good care of my brother, Tohru," Ayame said. "And be careful. Much as I've enjoyed your company, I'd rather not share it for all eternity. Ha ha ha!"

And he was simply gone, as easily as if he'd never been there.

--oOo--

"My brother's a ghost?"

"We both saw him!" Momiji's voice could raise no higher. "It was Aya--definetly Aya--" the initial shock had worn off and he was bouncing around the room. "He even talked to us!"

"Yuki--" Tohru brushed her hair behind her ear, as she studied him worriedly. Sitting at the desk in what had once been Shigure's room, an old history in front of him, Yuki looked even more serious than usual. Tohru thought she could detect a hint of hurt in his manner. "Are--you alright?"

"I'm fine," Yuki replied with a smile to assure her, but it didn't last and he was frowning at Momiji a second later.

"You're not fine," Tohru said, startling Momiji enough he let off dancing round the room and stared at them. "It's about Aya, isn't it? I know I'm not very smart, but you can tell me about it."

"Don't put yourself down," Yuki said softly. "You may not be smart in a book sense but you always know what to say." He sighed. "I'm not alright. Aya . . . we may not have been all that close, but I don't like the thought of him being unable to find peace. I coped with his death through believing he'd gone to a better place--finding out that he hadn't--it's a shock."

"I never thought of that," Momiji sounded shocked. "Poor Aya--" He turned to Tohru almost desperately. "But he was happy when we saw him--he even laughed--"

"He was happy then," Tohru said slowly. She didn't want to disappoint them, but she couldn't tell them the truth--

Yuki saw anyway. "They fought about me, the night he died. He'd come home late and Mother yelled at him--said he was keeping me up. I'd come downstairs for a drink of water and I heard them. Ayame yelled back which didn't help matters at all, and they sent him to his room." His eyes were hidden beneath his long fringe but Tohru could tell they were downcast. "That's the bit that always hurt the most about his death. That the night he died he should have fought with us--that he died still thinking we were mad at him--"

"Yuki--" Tohru whispered. Momiji stood beside her, his eyes wide.

"And that's my fault--if I hadn't been always complaining maybe they wouldn't have been so hard on Aya--"

"No."

Tohru jumped. Hatori had appeared at the doorway to Yuki's bedroom so silently none of them had noticed his approach.

"That wasn't your fault, Yuki. None of it was," The doctor said, in his clipped professional manner.

"You don't know that," Yuki said. "If it hadn't been for the argument--over me--Aya wouldn't have been yelled at, and he wouldn't have snuck out to the river to calm down and--" he paused.

"He was upset before he even encountered your parents," Hatori said. "That argument was nothing more than twigs to the fire. No, the fault for that night is mine."

Tohru could see through Hatori's calm mask suddenly. His serious expression contained a wealth of sorrow, even as he assumed a demeanour of control.

"Kagura is on the phone to Momo at the moment but she would like to talk to you, Momiji," he said.

"Uh--sure," Momiji said, edging past Hatori and down the corridor beyond.

"Hatori," Yuki's quiet request stopped the older man from following. "What happened that night?"

Hatori paused in the doorway, his head bowed. "I had something to tell him, something he didn't want to hear--he was not happy and I was not particularly sympathetic. I judged badly--"

--oOo--

Hatori shut the patio door behind him. For some reason the simple click of the door swinging shut seemed to have an air of finality.

Which was silly. Ayame had moods like this before, he always got over them with time.

He turned around again and just stopped himself from jumping. Shigure was leaning against the game's room wall, watching him with grey eyes that were serious for once.

"Gure--when did you get here?"

"I've been waiting," Shigure explained simply. "Aya's not going to take this well--so I thought that I'd wait till you were done then go see if I can't help." He looked over Hatori's shoulder towards the river. "So how is he?"

Hatori thought of Ayame's parting shot, and looked at his cousin. Shigure was watching him expectantly, completely unaware of Ayame's anger at him. "He's fine actually," Hatori said, hardly believing that he could voice such a bold lie. "Just wants to be alone for awhile."

If Ayame had a chance to cool off, maybe he'd see that being mad at Shigure was pointless and the damage he'd done could be repaired.

Shigure, however, had other ideas. "I'll see you later then," he said, opening the Game's Room door.

Hatori caught his arm. "What are you doing?"

"Going to Aya," his cousin explained with a grin.

"Didn't you hear what I said?"

"When Aya says he wants to be left alone, that always means he wants someone to fuss over him. I'll go, he can moan at me, and he'll be fine," Shigure said flippantly.

"I really don't think--"

"'Sides, you know Aya can never stay mad at me," Shigure continued blithely, slipping out of Hatori's grasp. "We'll see you later, Ha-san."

"Shigure, please!" Hatori called after him. "I really don't think that's a good idea. I'm asking you--please, just leave him be for now."

Shigure turned around to stare at him. "Is something wrong, Ha-san?"

Hatori took a deep breath. "No--Aya's alright. But I do think he needs space right now."

Shigure cast a thoughtful look on the willows. "Are you sure?"

Hatori nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"I'll trust your judgement then," Shigure nodded. "Hey, Ha-san, you want to go to the library with me? They have the new Ellis Peters--"

Crisis averted. Hatori sighed in relief. "No thanks. I'll stay here. I . . . have some homework."

"Your loss," Shigure shrugged, turning around to head back inside. "The new librarian is really cute."

Hatori sighed again. Then paused. "Shigure--the new librarian is a guy."

Shigure's grin was feral. "I know."

"But--the girl in our chemistry class--"

"I'm bi. Didn't I tell you?" Shigure's grin deepened. "Just think, this doubles the amount of people I could potentially have sex with. Isn't that fun?"

"Get out of here," Hatori told him, grabbing him in a headlock. "You little brat."

Shigure laughed. "You're just jealous because you don't have a social life."

"Is that so?" Hatori let go of his cousin and sprinted towards the house. "Let's see how you feel about your social life once I tell a certain girl you like her--"

"Hatori! You wouldn't!" Shigure tore after him. In the tussle to get to the phone first, the conversation was dropped.

--oOo--

"So many things I could have done differently--if I'd only seen--if I'd told Shigure--he got on with Aya much better than I did--"Hatori sighed, his fringe covering his eyes. "Who knows? If I'd done just one thing differently--I might have both of them with me still--"

Tohru brushed at her eyes. She would not cry and embarrass herself and Hatori--

A handkerchief was pushed into her hand and she accepted it gratefully.

"Hatori," Yuki said, in a voice both awed and sad. "I had no idea--"

Looking up, Tohru saw that he'd crossed the room to stand beside his older cousin. Hatori smiled at him sadly, patting him gently on the head.

But--if Yuki was over there--who had given her the handkerchief?

There was no one on her side--or behind her--Shigure? This had been his room--

"At any rate," Hatori said. "You can rest assured that nothing that happened that night was your fault. All the things that led up to Aya's death--all so small, so easily avoided--that's what makes it really tragic--that it could so easily have been prevented--"

"Hatori! Phone for you!" Kagura rapped sharply on the door. "It's the police inspector. They have the results back on the skeleton."

The doctor nodded. "I'll be there in a moment. Excuse me, please, Yuki, Tohru."

"Yuki?" Tohru asked hesitantly. "How are you feeling?"

"We have to get to the bottom of this," Yuki said determinedly. "Now more than ever. Aya doesn't deserve to be trapped here." He reopened his history book. "I'm going to keep researching Akito and Hatsuharu--there has to be something about them somewhere."

Tohru walked downstairs slowly. There wasn't a lot she could do.

Kyoko met her on the stairway. "What's up, moppet?"

Tohru hugged her. "I'm really glad to have you for a mother, you know that?"

"Don't know what brought this on, but I can't argue with you," Kyoko hugged her back. "Come on, let's get tea started."

--oOo--

The results of the comparison between dental records and skeleton were conclusive: Souma Kisa was interned five days from her discovery.

Tohru, dressed once more in her black, straightened Momiji's tie as she waited with the Souma's in the entrance hall.

"Where is the car?" Hatori asked impatiently, standing in the doorway. "The driver knows where to collect us surely."

"Would you like me to check?" Kyoko asked moving towards the phone.

"All done!" Tohru said, her bright tones out of place amongst the sombre gathering in the hallway.

"Thank-you Tohru!" Momiji tugged at his tie. "I can never get these things right."

"Next time perhaps you should ask someone to help you tie it first," Yuki suggested from his position at the doorway. "Then we might not have had to spend fifteen minutes trying to untie you."

"I don't like suits," Momiji whined. "I always feel like I'm being choked."

"Nonsense," Yuki said. "You look very proper. Besides you can't expect to wear your usual attire on an occasion like this."

Nineteen years of life. Seventeen years forgotten in an attic. Reduced to 'an occasion like this'--it didn't feel fair somehow.

"There's something I have to do," Tohru said. "Excuse me, please."

Kagura looked away from the hall mirror long enough to give Tohru a startled glance. "What could you possibly have to do now?" she asked, the shiny lip gloss she wore emphasising her pout.

"Something," Tohru said.

"Don't be too long," Hatori admonished, Yuki watching curiously from the doorway.

The red roses were beautiful, perfect and fresh, but somehow unfitting for an occasion like this. Yellow roses were out for the same reason--Tohru sighed as she scanned the garden. Lilies were the appropriate flower, but there didn't seem to be any in the garden--not unless you substituted irises, and since they were rich royal purple, they were out on the same grounds as the roses. Was it carnations that were used in France? The garden didn't seem to have any of those either--or maybe it was the wrong time of year.

She sighed, looking across the river to where Kyou's house was, blinds drawn. Hatori had phoned them as soon as the results had confirmed what they already knew--they would come to the internment, no doubt.

The upstairs drawing room window flew open with a bang. Tohru winced as several books were sent flying through the air. Once she was reasonably certain he'd run out of things he could throw that were small enough to fit through the window, Tohru began to pick up the books. Hiro had been unusually active of late--barely half a day passed without a crash coming from the upstairs drawing room. Frowning as she rescued a book from a rose bush, Tohru tried to remember when exactly the increase in Hiro's activity had started--and paused, book in hand.

Hiro's presence seemed to have increased since the discovery of Kisa's body. Could that be the reason? Ritsu had told Shigure that Hiro had loved her--

Tohru blinked again, staring at the rosebush the books had been thrown into. "Of course! That's it! It's perfect!" The white rosebush--why hadn't she thought of it before?

--oOo--

Tohru felt rather awkward, sitting beside her mother, Saki and Arisa in the back rows of the funeral home. The Soumas were seated at the front, and although they'd invited Tohru and her mother to join them, Tohru was relieved that Kyoko had declined. She still felt like something of an intruder.

She looked to the side where Kyou and his father sat. She couldn't imagine how Kyou would be feeling--true, she'd lost a parent herself, but Kyou hadn't even known his. All those long years of wondering where his mother was, why she'd never come back to see him--answered finally and irrefutably by the casket at the head of the room.

Dotted here and there around the room were the few of Kisa's friends who were still in the area, and could afford to take a morning off to pay their respects to a friend who was probably only a distant memory by now.

The ceremony finished, and people milled, Kisa's friends approaching Hatori and Takeshi to give condolences. Tohru was not surprised to see Kyou disappear out the door as soon as he could. It wasn't indifference--but Kyou could not bear to display emotion under scrutiny and his bright orange hair, so close to the colour of Kisa's, was drawing a lot of comment from her friends.

"Kyou!" She was about to hurry after him, but Arisa caught her sleeve. "Let him have some time. Carrot Top will cope, he's strong. He doesn't like people to see his occasional moments of weakness though."

"He will not thank-you for disturbing him now," Saki confirmed. "Perhaps this would be an appropriate moment to pay our respects." She nodded towards the casket.

Solemnly, Tohru placed one of the white roses on the casket. "Everything I've heard about you makes me think I would have liked you, Kisa," she whispered. "I'm sorry things had to happen like this."

"I have to head off to work now," Arisa said. "Saki, you're babysitting right?"

The psychic nodded, expression calm as always. "It would be no trouble if you wished to accompany me, Tohru. You might appreciate some time away from the Souma house."

"Thank-you, Saki, that's a lovely thought, but I don't mind the house, really. And . . . I'd like to stay. There's still something I have to do."

The Souma plot was on much the same scale as the homestead--grandiose and Victorian, fenced off from the rest of the cemetery by a wrought iron fence topped with fleur de lis. A tomb had been erected for the earliest Soumas, and inside Tohru found the final resting place of Souma Asato among others. Two graves resting side by side belonged to Souma Akito and Souma Rin. The more recent graves were out in the open, underneath an aged oak tree.

She found Ayame's grave first, his family line having chosen to be buried in a straight line, following the path, and left a rose for him. Shigure's was harder to find, as his side of the family had chosen the far side of the plot. In fact she probably wouldn't have found it at all, had there not already been someone there.

She'd been kneeling at the grave but she stood as Tohru approached.

"I'm sorry!" Tohru said hastily. "Please don't let me disturb you."

"Oh, you're not!" the woman said, and Tohru could see she was about Hatori's age. "I was just about to leave anyway." She looked at the tombstone, smiling a little sadly. "I come here every year, just to pay my respects. A little silly, I suppose, but I don't think you ever forget your first crush."

"Eh?" Tohru stared at the woman, startled. She couldn't be serious--Shigure was so much younger--

Of course, her brain supplied helpfully. This is the age Shigure would be now if he hadn't died.

"I'm a little early this year," the woman continued. "It's another three days until the anniversary of his death. But I'm starting a new job in another city, and leave tomorrow." She noticed the flower Tohru held. "Oh, are you family?"

"Something like that," Tohru hedged.

"I have to go now--but pass on my respects to Hatori, will you? Tell him that Mit-chan wishes him well--he'll know who I am."

Tohru placed her rose on Shigure's grave thoughtfully. This was a side of him she'd never imagined--of course, he hadn't always been a ghost, but still--

"Oi."

"Kyou!" Tohru jumped. "Are you--"

"Before you start, I'm fine," Kyou said brusquely. "I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me."

"I wasn't--well, I was," Tohru said. "But Kyou, that's not necessarily a bad thing--I can imagine how you must feel now, and I sympathise--I wish I could help, but I don't think anything I could do would be of any use. But--if you want to talk to someone--"

"I--Tohru--" Kyou's expression softened minutely. "Whatever—it's just," he said suddenly. "Everyone's tip-toeing around me like I'm going to fall to pieces and its driving me nuts. I never knew her--I can't really miss her--but I--"

Tohru stepped closer, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Yes?"

"I'm never going to know her. I mean, I never had the chance but . . . before I knew, I always hoped that one day, one day she'd come back and I could find out--but now--" Kyou shook his head. "I feel like I've lost something . . . but I never had it to begin with." He laughed harshly. "That probably sounds stupid--"

"Not at all," Tohru said earnestly. "I think it makes perfect sense. Whenever I miss my father, I can think of my memories of him--"

"The funny thing is that I feel I do know her," Kyou said. "My Dad never told me anything about her until this week--my grandma even found a photo of her for me. I'd never seen her before but she felt familiar. Gran said that I see her in my reflection every day, but I don't think that's it--how the hell would I know what my mother sounded like, how she smelt unless--" he paused. "I need to talk to Shigure, but I haven't seen him with the rest of the Soumas. Did he come at all?"

"Kyou," Tohru said shocked. "I--uh--"

He didn't know. He didn't know!

Of course, he didn't know. When he told her about Ayame's death, Shigure had still been alive. And he and his Dad had moved shortly afterwards--no one had told Kyou.

"What's wrong?" Kyou said. "Look if he didn't come, just say so. I suppose it was idiotic of me to assume that this meant anything to him--"

"It's not that!" Tohru said. "It's just . . ." Unable to think of the right words, her gaze fell to the grave at her feet.

"What?" Kyou asked impatiently. "Just tell me--" he followed her gaze and came to an abrupt stop.

He was silent for so long that Tohru hesitantly risked a look at his face. "Kyou?"

"It's a mistake--isn't it?" Kyou said. "He can't be dead--I'd have known--someone would have told me--"

"I'm sorry--"

"But you said you'd talked to him," Kyou said. "How could you if he was--"

"He's a ghost," Tohru said.

Kyou stared at her. Then shook his head. "No. Shigure can't be a ghost—it's just . . . impossible--"

Tohru was glad to see she wasn't the only one who had problems with that concept. "Kyou, I'm sorry but--"

"There you are, Kyou."

The two of them looked up in surprise. Kyou's father was approaching him, followed by Hatori who had Kagura at his elbow.

"The Soumas are hosting a wake for Kisa at the family homestead. If you'd like to go Hatori has offered to give you a lift."

"I'm allowed to visit then?" Kyou demanded.

Takeshi nodded. "It's only fair that you should learn about Kisa. Just . . . be careful."

A look Tohru couldn't fathom passed between father and son and Kyou nodded stiffly.

"If we could get going then--" Hatori sounded impatient and Tohru could guess why. Any hint of the house being less than normal seemed to irritate him.

Kagura gave an excited squeal and grabbed Kyou's arm. "It'll be such fun catching up on old times--come on--"

"Oi--who said I wanted to catch up--" Kyou found himself dragged unceremoniously after the college student.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same," Hatori observed with a slight smile. "Well, coming Tohru?"

"If you don't mind, Hatori," Takeshi said. "I'd like to talk to Tohru a moment."

What could Kyou's father possibly have to say to her? Tohru blushed. "Of course! I won't be long, Hatori-san."

"I'd like to thank you," Takeshi told Tohru, once they were alone. "It's because of you that we found Kisa--it means something to know that she's been put to rest at last." He sighed and continued. "And . . . thanks for being here for my son. He's not the easiest person to get a long with and doesn't express himself very well, but--your friendship has meant a lot to him, and I know he really appreciates all you've done for him--you're very important to him, Tohru."

Tohru was now bright pink. "Kyou is very important to me too," she said. "I'm happy we had the chance to be friends. But he's important to Saki and Arisu too--"

"Be careful, Tohru," Takeshi said. "Someone with as good a heart as you should not have to experience the Souma curse first hand." He bowed to her and left her, standing confused, next to Shigure's grave.