Love Remains 12.

~~~~~~~

by girl_starfish

It was two in the morning before Tohru finally got the chance to slip away. Momiji had been very upset and had required a lot of attention. In the end he'd been allowed to sleep in Tohru's bed, and had cried himself to sleep while she rubbed his back and tried to think of soothing things to say.

Yuki, on the other hand, had seemed to retreat into himself. He was in some sort of daze, not even hearing the words that Hatori had said to him. Kyoko had asked him three times if he wanted something to drink, and once he'd accepted the cup he merely stirred it absently.

Tohru herself hadn't cried, but only because she had a hard time believing it wasn't some awful nightmare, and that her mother wasn't going to come in any second with a hug to tell her it was all right. Kagura couldn't be dead--she just couldn't--

Momiji sighed and rolled over. Tohru paused a moment, to be sure he wasn't going to wake up, then carefully climbed out of her bed. She pulled her dressing gown on again and padded as quietly as she could down the hallway.

She saw the main door open, Hatori sitting on the front steps with a cigarette. She had no idea what he would be thinking now--the ambulance crew had been insistent that they'd talked to Shigure, and no-one could have made that call--

Very carefully, Tohru slipped across the hall, careful not to attract his attention. Was it her imagination or were there more shadows tonight?

The library door was already ajar. Tohru pushed it open hesitantly. Although pushed out of her mind by the happenings of the night, the memory of the kiss had surfaced again, making her suddenly nervous.

"Shigure?"

"Oh, Tohru." Ayame's anxious expression softened slightly as he looked up. "I'm glad it's you."

"Ayame?" Tohru asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Gure's in a bad way," the white-haired ghost said, looking towards his cousin's usual armchair which had been turned around so its back was towards them. "He needs me. And I felt . . ." He paused, then said "Is it true? Is Kagura really dead?"

"I'm afraid so," Tohru said. "I'm sorry--"

"You're not the one who should be sorry."

Even before when Shigure's voice had been serious there had always been an undercurrent of control, of certainty. Now his words were shorn of even that.

Tohru and Ayame were silent as Shigure continued.

"I've done nothing. I failed Kagura. I knew he was planning something, I should have seen it but I let him get to me. And--" He stopped.

"Gure, you did what you could," Ayame said. "Look, even I couldn't have done anything if I'd been there--"

"You don't get it, do you?" Tohru had never heard Shigure sound so bitter, so angry--so defeated. "I've failed. I couldn't protect Kagura, I'm failing Hatori. My death was pointless."

Confusion was plainly written over Ayame's face. "Gure . . . you meant to die?"

"It was for Hatori, wasn't it?" Tohru said. "In the journal you said he would always be in danger as long as he was in the house unless you did something."

"I had it all figured out." The bitterness in Shigure's voice sounded an echo somewhere just out of reach in Tohru's memory. "The cycle had to be broken. I thought I could do it--I wasn't in any danger, you see. My feelings in love were returned. Of course I didn't realise then that made me more vulnerable. Just like I failed to realise I wasn't helping Ha-san, I was trapping him."

"But Hatori's still alive," Tohru protested.

"Can you honestly say he's happy? No, he's bound to the house and its tragedy just as we are," Shigure said. "We're all prisoners . . ."

Tohru stepped forward towards the chair hesitantly. "Shigure--you did your best. You mustn't blame yourself--"

"I think that's what I love about you most, Tohru," Shigure said, sadly. "The way you always believe. If you knew what I'd contemplated--" He stopped. When he spoke again his voice was no longer anchored around the chair. Instead it ghosted across the library, seemingly coming from nowhere.

"What would a hundred years of this existence do to you, Tohru? It wouldn't change your pretty face one bit--"

Tohru took a step backwards, looking nervously around. "Shigure--"

She froze as she backed into something solid--and felt a hand trace the side of her face.

"You'd still be beautiful . . ." Shigure whispered. "But to exist like we do in the shadows and the cold and the silence . . . I don't think even you could still believe, Tohru."

Ayame broke the moment suddenly. He'd crossed to the library window as Shigure had begun to talk about his death and had stayed there, staring out across the river. "Gure," he said, a plaintive note in his voice. "My death--it was an accident wasn't it?"

Tohru found she could breathe again as Shigure let go of her, stepping forwards to his cousin.

"What do you remember?"


"Nothing . . . I don't know." Ayame turned from the window, his long white locks trailing behind him--

Tohru gasped, rushing to him. "Ayame--your head--"

The movement had revealed a discoloured bruise under Ayame's long fringe.

"We need to get that bandaged," Tohru said, trying to tug Ayame away from the mirror across the library fireplace. "Ayame, sit down--"

"It's a little late for a bandage," Shigure chided her with a soft smile.

"That's how it happened, isn't it?" Ayame said, wonderingly. He gazed at his reflection with a morbid fascination. "I remember now--I was so angry, I wanted to escape, to think and it was so hot in my room . . ." He frowned. "I wasn't going to climb, I knew Mum would have a fit . . . but I wanted to feel the breeze on my face and I was beyond caring what they thought anyway--none of them cared about me, anyway--and the moon was so nice. I'd gone high enough--but the night was so light, and I'd be able to see the moon better from above. So what if I fell? Solve everyone's problems at once--and then I--I--" Ayame broke off.

"Did you fall?" Tohru asked. Shigure motioned at her to be quiet but Ayame didn't seem to be distracted by her words.

"Fall? I didn't fall. I was pushed. But . . . there was no one else there." Ayame twisted his long hair, his green-gold eyes clouded.

Tohru had so many questions. She glanced at Shigure who shook his head--they must keep silent for now.

"He was there," Ayame said. "He was always there." His frown deepened, and he worked his hair anxiously. "A presence at the back of my mind at first, a comfort when things got to heavy for me to bear, when all the hopes and fears clashed and I couldn't tell up from down. Then my dreams, a quiet voice in the back of my mind until finally I couldn't tell which words were mine and which were his--" The white haired boy paused. "I must have been mad."

"You weren't mad," Shigure said. He'd turned his back to them again, studying the contents of one bookshelf.

Tohru ventured a hand on Ayame's shoulder. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

Ayame shook his head. "It wasn't there before--when I first visited you, Gure. Remember?"

It hadn't been there the first time she'd seen Ayame at the Willows either. Tohru frowned. "Why . . .?"

"It's time," Shigure said, his finger tracing the spine of a family history. "Everything comes down to this day. This is the day that I died, that Rin and Akito passed away, that Hatsuharu was seized. He has complete power over the house now--and through our deaths we belong to him."

"And that's why this bruise has shown up? Because that's how I died?"

"It always happens like that, on this day," his cousin said quietly. "To all of us."

Ayame tossed his fine silvery hair over his shoulder. "How do you know so much, Gure?" he said, clearly trying to remain calm in the face of disturbing new knowledge. "I didn't remember my death--you seem to know it better than I do."

Shigure smiled, turning around for the first time that evening. His eyes glittered dark grey with amusement. "If my death was a mistake, then I wasn't the only one to pay for it. I died knowingly, you see, and free--and I remember everything."

Tohru stepped back, glad to find herself against a wall. If she hadn't had something solid to support her she would have fallen--

Ayame was just as shocked. "Gure--what happened? You--"

"Rather appalling, isn't it?" Shigure looked down, no humour in his gaze. "This is my death."

The suit he always appeared in was impeccably neat as always. However, instead of the continuous line of his jacket, there was a hole shadowy and misty above his heart. Dark shadows swirled there.

"How . . .?"

"He stopped my heart," Shigure said. His grey eyes were cold, distant as he remembered. "He put his hand on my chest, and it was like ice in my veins. Did you know that cold can burn? It burned--"

He paused, his hand over the hole.

After a long moment battling her fears, Tohru took an unsteady step towards him. "I'm not as smart as you, Shigure, but I'll do my best."

"What?" Both Shigure and Ayame blinked at her.

"I'll do my best," Tohru said, trying not to look at Shigure's chest. "To end the cycle and to free you."

Shigure studied her a long moment, his grey eyes unreadable. Finally, he said "Tohru, if the cycle isn't broken now it may well never be. He gets stronger every life he takes. I had a chance--but he may already be too strong."

"I'll do my best," Tohru repeated.

Shigure smiled. "You know," he said. "I believe you will." He looked at Ayame. "You'd better get back to your tree. You should save your strength for when Tohru needs us."

"You'll help me?" Tohru asked, a weight lifting from her chest.

"Of course! It is the role of handsome knights such as ourselves to assist beautiful princesses!" Ayame proclaimed.

"We may not be able to be of much use, but we'll do what we can," Shigure said, with more reliability. "And I think you will find you have other friends--both within and without the house." He nodded to Ayame and they faded into shadow.

"But--what am I supposed to do?" Tohru cried out.

"You'll know when the time comes."

Which was not the most helpful of answers.

Pulling her dressing gown more tightly around her, Tohru hurried back to the warmth and safety of her bedroom. She no longer felt confident in the dark shadows of the Souma house.

As she entered the kitchen she got a fright. A dark figure was sitting on the back staircase and stood at her approach. It was graceful, almost eerily so and she drew back, expecting Akito--

"You're up very late," Yuki said.

"Oh, Yuki!" Tohru said with relief. "I couldn't sleep." She looked around the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?"

"Always thinking of other people," Yuki smiled. "I really admire that about you, Tohru."

Sitting at the kitchen table a few minutes later, with mugs of steaming chocolate in front of them, the two of them were silent. The warmth and sweetness of the chocolate was just beginning to revive Tohru's spirits when Yuki spoke.

"Where did you go?"

"The library," Tohru explained. "I wanted to ask Shigure--"

The grey haired boy set down his drink as sternly as a judge laying down his hammer. "I don't think you should go to see Shigure again."

"What? Why not?" Tohru's blue eyes were wide with astonishment.

"It seems awfully suspicious to me," Yuki said, his purple eyes hard, "that it was Shigure who made the phonecall to the ambulance. After all, whoever cancelled our flights was able to use the phone--and as far as we know he's the only ghost who can."

"But . . . Shigure would never hurt Kagura!" Tohru protested. "And he phoned the ambulance to try and help her--"

"We also know for a fact that he was active last night," Yuki said. "Which is more than we can say about any of the other ghosts."

"But--"

"It's settled then. For some reason Shigure doesn't want to be freed, and will attempt to stop us from keeping Hatsuharu out."

"I'm still not sure that Hatsuharu is the node point--" Tohru said slowly.

"He has to be. It's the only way it makes sense." Yuki stood, patting her arm, his eyes suddenly gentle. "I think you should try and sleep Tohru--this has been a long night."

Momiji was still asleep when Tohru got back to her bed, snuggling up to her as she slipped between the covers. It felt somehow comforting to have another person there, and Tohru was reminded of her past wish to have a younger brother or sister . . .

Concentrating on that thought she was able to slip into sleep.

~~~~~~~

It was the worst breakfast Tohru had ever had in her life. Kagura's empty space at the table hung over everything--Momiji was silent, Hatori distracted and Tohru herself afraid to speak for fear of making things worse.

"Tohru, would you mind taking care of the breakfast dishes?" Kyoko asked. "I've offered to pack up Kagura's things--I think we should spare the Soumas that at least."

"They're still going then?"

"I don't know. I think this last blow has been too much for Hatori--he's really shaken by it. He hasn't spoken to me of their plans but I want to do something to help." Kyoko hugged Tohru tightly. "I'm so proud of you, honey--doing your best to look after everyone. Your father was like that."

Tohru was ashamed to find herself crying. "Why do things like this happen? It's not fair--"

"Hush," Kyoko rocked her daughter gently. "I don't have a good answer, Tohru. But when things like this happen, what matters is not why so much as how you cope with them. Sometimes all you can do is just cope." She sighed, wiping Tohru's tears away. "You've got me, and I've got you. That's all we need."

~~~~~~~~

The dishes finished, Tohru decided to walk in the garden. She hoped the fresh air would clear her head of the shadows lurking there and possibly provide answers where none were to be found.

It was hopeless, she admitted to herself, sitting on the bench before the pond of water lilies. Shigure was much smarter than she was, and he'd failed. What chance did she have? For that matter, why did she not trust Yuki? He was intelligent and thoughtful, a Souma himself. If he was so sure Hatsuharu was the node point then he was probably right. All the same . . .

A sweet scent greeted her. Tohru blinked. A yellow rose was held in front of her. She smiled, accepting the flower.

"It's beautiful." She enjoyed the flower's sweet scent. What had Shigure said about yellow roses? They could mean jealousy or friendship--she sighed. "Shigure, I--"

It wasn't Shigure.

Tohru's gaze followed the bunched burgundy coloured silk skirts upwards to where skin as smooth and fine as porcelain was framed by hair as black as midnight. Half of it was caught up in intricate tresses at the back of her head, the rest of it fell loose to be whipped by the breeze.

"Rin--" Tohru whispered, unable to say more.

This close her beauty was overpowering. Tohru could understand why men might have murdered for Souma Rin. The intensity of the gaze locked on Tohru was almost frightening. Then Rin smiled, touching the rose that Tohru held and nodding at her.

"Ah! I'm so sorry! I should have thanked you!" Tohru began hastily, but a curt shake of Rin's head stopped her.

The ghost pointed again to the rose petals.

"Are you trying to tell me something about the rose?" Tohru frowned. "Yellow roses mean friendship--is that it?" For Rin had nodded. "You want to be friends with me--to help me?"

The black haired girl beckoned Tohru with one icy pale hand, turning to walk towards the gazebo. Clutching her rose tightly, Tohru had to hurry to catch up. Even with her long skirts, Rin moved faster than she did. She caught up with the black haired girl at the gazebo, where Rin waited, fingering the ivy that grew over the gazebo. As Tohru approached she pointed to herself, then tapped the Ivy leaves in much the same way as she'd tapped the rose petal.

"Ivy has a meaning like the rose did, and it applies to you," Tohru said and Rin nodded, entering the gazebo.

Tohru followed.

A bunch of flowers had already been gathers and as she watched Rin laid them out before her in three neat rows.

"The flowers are a message," Tohru said, leaning closer. "Aren't they? Because you can't speak--you weren't able to say something in life, is that it?"

Rin shut her eyes, as expression of sorrow creeping over her face.

"I'm sorry," Tohru said. "I--"

Rin held a hand up for silence. She placed the last flower on the floor. Meeting Tohru's gaze with her own intense dark eyes, she tapped the ground next to the first row of flowers, then tapped her own chest.

"Those flowers--their message is about you?" Tohru asked.

Rin nodded, pointing to the second row of flowers then to the Souma homestead.

"The house?" Tohru questioned. Rin shook her head and pointed again.

"Is that Hatori's study? Hiro's room?" Tohru guessed. "Someone in the house?"

Rin nodded. She tapped the last row of flowers and pointed.

Tohru gasped. "Me?"

~~~~~~

Tohru ran into the house so fast she almost slammed into the Venetian doors. She pulled her shoes off without bothering to untie them, running down the hallway as fast as she could. "Yuki? Yuki!"

"Tohru!" Momiji was just coming down the stairs. "I've been looking for you."

"What for?" Tohru asked.

"Hatori sent me to find you," Momiji's eyes were wide and worried. "Your mother's had an accident--"

Tohru froze. Nothing could happen to Kyoko--she needed her mother so much--"Where--"

"She's in the kitchen," Momiji said. "Tohru, it's all right, she's going to be fine--"

Tohru didn't hear him. Nothing could reassure her that Kyoko was indeed all right until she'd seen her for herself, sitting in the kitchen while Yuki prepared an ice-pack for her and Hatori bandaged her foot.

"Nothing to worry about," Kyoko assured Tohru, ruffling her daughter's long brown hair, wincing slightly as Hatori inspected her injury. "A sprain--that's all."

"How did it happen?" Tohru asked.

"I was careless," Kyoko said. "I was carrying Kagura's things downstairs and I slipped in a puddle in the hallway."

"I don't think this is a sprain," Hatori said. "I think you may have broken something."

"Not from a silly fall like that!" Kyoko protested.

"As a doctor, it is my opinion you have it checked out." Hatori told her.

"Mother, please," Tohru said. "If there's a chance it could be broken--"

"It's nothing," Kyoko insisted. "Besides I can't leave my little pumpkin all alone tonight."

"All alone?" Momiji asked what Tohru would have.

"We're leaving this afternoon," Yuki told him.

"But what about--" They couldn't leave with Kagura--

"I've taken care of it," Hatori said curtly. "Honda-san, I really think you're being unwise--"

"You don't need to worry about me!" Tohru said cheerfully. "I'll go and stay with Hana-chan or Uo-chan."

"You're sure?" Kyoko asked.

Tohru nodded. "I'd feel better knowing your ankle had been properly seen to."

"I guess I'm outvoted then," Kyoko smiled ruefully. "Out of the way, pipsqueak, I'm going to have to hop over to the car."

"I'll carry you," Hatori said.

Momiji jumped about in delight, distracted from his annoyance at being called pipsqueak by this new development. "Piggyback rides!"

Tohru smiled faintly. She'd never really had anything happen to her mother--she was always the strong one, Tohru's safety net, her support. To have her suddenly gone was distressing. And to have it happen on today of all days--

"She will be okay, Tohru," Yuki said, squeezing her hand gently.

"I know," Tohru shook her head at her own foolishness.

All the same, as she watched Hatori drive her mother away she couldn't help feeling like a five year old left at school for the very first time.

"Why did you choose to stay behind?" Yuki asked.

"There's not much time left," Tohru said. "Shigure told me--today might be our last chance to end the curse."

Yuki looked at her worriedly. "You're not thinking of doing anything like he did, are you? The way to end it is to do nothing--to keep Haru out--"

"I'm not so certain--" Tohru's frown brightened as she caught sight of three unexpected figures at the gate. "Kyou! Hana-chan! Uo-chan!"

"Yo!" Arisa laughed her big, hearty laugh, Kyou scowled and Saki looked on as expressionless as ever. "Surprised to see us Tohru?"

"Yes, but very glad!" Tohru threw her arms around all three of them at once. "You've no idea how good it is to see you--how did you know?"

"The psychic-wonder had a feeling, and turned up with Kyou at my work to insist I be given the day off. Not that I'm complaining or anything," Arisa shrugged, but beneath her cheerful manner was an anxious look. "And when Kyou told us about there being an ambulance at your house last night--"

"I was worried," Kyou admitted grudgingly. "My father wouldn't let me come over so I called Hana."

"I did a searching," Saki said. "Kagura is no longer with us, is she?"

"No," Tohru said, looking anxiously at Kyou. "She's not."

The orange haired boy's expression darkened but he didn't say anything.

"Tohru," Saki said. "Where is Kyoko?"

"Come inside," Tohru said. "I'll tell you everything." She looked up to see if Yuki minded her bringing guest's into their house but the doorway was empty. Yuki was gone.

~~~~~~~

"You can't be serious," Kyoko moaned. "In hospital for two days?"

The nurse frowned at her. "You'll need to stay off your feet entirely. The bone has fractured in a very delicate place and--"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time," Kyoko waved the aide aside. "This isn't good," she observed to Hatori.

The doctor nodded. "You won't have to worry about Tohru. I'll see she has somewhere safe to stay before we leave."

"Thank-you," Kyoko said. "It's not that I don't think she's capable of looking out for herself, its just that . . . well, with everything that's been happening lately I don't feel easy about leaving her alone."

Hatori nodded. He knew the feeling too well.

He returned to his car slowly. He didn't like this one bit. He was a logical person, never one to give into superstitious fears. All the same, he was starting to wonder if he wasn't in over his head--

"Souma-san! Excuse me, Souma-san?"

Hatori blinked. The young woman in front of him was vaguely familiar. "Can I help you?" he said.

"I'm part of the ambulance crew, last night--you probably don't remember me. I'm really sorry--"

"Don't be," Hatori said. "There was nothing you could have done."

"All the same, I wish it had been different," the girl sighed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't delay you." She held out a brown envelope. "Here."

Hatori took it. "This is . . ?"

"It's customary to record calls made to the emergency phone services--they're sometimes needed as evidence later. We submitted the tape and the accident report to the local authorities and they've decided there is no evidence that it was anything more than an accident. However, I thought you might like the tape. It might help you sort out what happened--you were pretty distressed when it came up last night."

Hatori nodded. "You could say that." He turned the envelope over. "This doesn't strike me as being usual procedure."

"It's not," the girl said, blushing. "It's very irregular, in fact. I'd probably lose my job if they found out."

"I appreciate this," Hatori said. "They won't find out from me."

She smiled. "I thought you ought to have it, being family and all."

"Thank-you, Miss . . .?" Hatori asked.

"Kana," she smiled again, and then disappeared amongst the crowded hallway.

Hatori nodded, attention turning to the tape in his hand. Could it really be . . . ? Well, he'd soon find out.

There was a tape player in the car but Hatori ignored it. Something like this deserved the privacy and quiet of his study--he would need to be able to think clearly.

He stopped briefly at the kitchen to check on Tohru for her mother and give her an update on Kyoko's condition. He was pleased to see that she had her friends with her. That was something at least.

And finally he was standing in the study, unwrapping the tape with shaking hands.

It was marked plainly with the date. Hatori pressed play, pleased to find it had already been queued. That aide, Kana, had thought of everything.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he would find. It was not nice to think that Yuki or Momiji had lied to him, but the only alternative was impossible--

"--ambulance," the crisp voice of the telephone operator jumped out of a burst of static on the tape. "What's the problem?"

"My cousin's fallen down the stairs--she's really hurt." The voice was less distinct, more prone to static. "We're at the Souma homestead, the address is--"

"Slow down, I'll need you to repeat that. Take a breath."

"Sorry. Our address--"

Hatori wasn't listening to the words. He was busy fumbling for a cigarette. He desperately needed something to calm him--

Because it was Shigure. Not only the exact tenor, but the way he spoke when he was worried, the way he slightly slurred some letters and not others--Hatori doubted there was anyone else alive who could remember how Shigure had spoken with such exactness . . .

And that meant . . .

"Is there a pulse?"

A pause. "I don't know . . . she's not moving. What should I do?"

"Don't move her. Keep her warm, check that her airways are clear. Can you do that?"

Hatori turned the tape off.

He sat for a long time in silence. How long he wasn't sure. His cigarette had long since fallen into ash when the knock at the door came.

"Give me a minute," Hatori said, hastily pulling the back of his sleeve across his eyes. "Yes?"

It was Yuki looking serious. "Have you looked outside lately?"

Startled, Hatori pulled the curtain back. The sky outside was grey, and darkening fast. "What the--"

"A freak storm, moving in fast," his younger cousin reported. "Already flights have been cancelled."

Hatori looked at the sky. It was logical, it wasn't natural . . . but--"Yuki, you know what is happening here, don't you," he said. "Tell me everything."

"But--" Yuki was startled. "I thought you didn't believe in--"

"In the face of new evidence I've revised my opinion," Hatori said dryly. "Now tell me. What the hell is going on here?"