AN: Anoo…I know!  It's been waaay too long since I updated this!  Gomen nasai!!  I am not fit to be an author!!  *sob* … Ahem.  But one day, I just had the sudden urge to work on this again (yay!) and so, here it is!  Wa-la!  Two chapters for your reading pleasure!  You can thank my sudden obsession with Fruits Basket for that—I don't know how it helped, but it did.  (GOMEN NASAI!!!)

~* To Be Yours *~

By Nichole (Neko-chan) Johnson

Begun: November 6, 2002

Finished: July 22, 2003

For Yuuhi's sake…

~*~*~*~

Chapter One ~ Flowers for His Grave

Aya slipped softly and unnoticed into the Aogiri kitchen, watching with tender amusement the familiar scene that met her eyes.

"…Now, you have to stack them carefully, Sora," chided Yuuhi lightly, his large hands gently guiding the boy's small ones on the handles of the spatula as they carefully stacked the freshly flipped pancakes onto separate plates.

The fair-haired toddler watched the process with startling seriousness, allowing the chef to guide his hands skillfully across the plates of food as he observed with an intensity and appearance of understanding beyond his years.  It always amazed Aya at the young child's interest in cooking at such a young age, but she had no argument with his being in the kitchen.  She trusted Yuuhi and his skills; trusted he would never let harm come to the child, just as with herself.  And the young chef seemed to enjoy the boy's company immensely, as well as the chance to share and pass down his skills.  There was a bond that had developed between the two, there in the kitchen, and it was something silent and immense.  It was something Aya had never expected, let alone wished for.  After everything that had happened between herself and the impetuous young martial artist…knowing his original dislike for Touya; the rivalry there, she had never known what to expect from him in light of her child.  At the most, she had hoped for acceptance; at the worst, she had expected resentment.  Never had she entertained such a close friendship between the two; somewhere between the camaraderie and idolatry of brothers, and the love and protection between father and son.

In some ways, it made the tangle of feelings she had for her old protector that much more painful; although it brought a bittersweet smile to the young woman's lips.

In her daydreaming, Aya hadn't noticed the two turn from their task and notice her standing in the doorway, looking lost in thought.

"Aya?"

The blonde blinked her violet eyes collectively at Yuuhi's inquiring voice, recovering from her momentary daydreaming to meet the young man's concerned, hazel gaze.

Sora untangled himself from the cook's strong arms, scrambling hurriedly off of the footstool he had been perched upon.  "Mama!"

Tearing her eyes away from Yuuhi's enchanting hazel gaze, Aya smiled happily at the small child throwing himself eagerly into her open embrace.  Crouching down to his level, she hugged the boy tightly; all the despair and pain that had been plaguing her recently dissolving momentarily at the feel of the small being enfolded in her arms.  This was her son; her gift from heaven.  Even with the loss of Touya still weighing on her heart, the sight of her son could bring sunlight to the darkest of days.  He was more precious to her than life, and no amount of words could describe the depth of her love for him.

Sora looked up from his mother's embrace, delight shining in his young, green eyes.  "Mama, we make you pancakes!" he declared happily, stretching up on his toes with excitement.

Aya smiled back at him warmly, seeing Touya there in his loving gaze.  "So desu ne?" she replied teasingly, looking up and meeting Yuuhi's gaze once more.  The two adults shared a charmed smile at the child's excitement.

After a moment, the young woman found herself looking away, a nervous energy tossing her gaze about the floor, then back to the boy in her arms, where she once again regained her genuine smile.

"How about we eat some breakfast, then, ne, Sora-chan?" she suggested excitedly, pulling the child into her arms and climbing to her feet.

The toddler nodded eagerly, looking quickly to the dark-haired young man waiting patiently across the room.  "Ani-ue, eat now, 'kay?"  He stretched his hand out imploringly in a very childlike gesture.

Yuuhi smiled back encouragingly at the small boy.  "Alright then.  I'm sure Suzumi and Q-san are wondering what's keeping us."

*  *  *  *  *

Other than Sora's usual childlike chattering, the morning meal was quieter than usual; something unspoken clouding the usually content atmosphere of the Aogiri household.

"Maa, maa, Sora-chan!  You eat more than Master Yuuhi!"

The boy blinked ardent eyes at the clucking housekeeper, face and hands sticky with syrup.  "Sora like pancakes, Cue-cue-Baachan," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, stuffing smushed pieces of pancake still clutched in his chubby hands into his mouth with eager relish.

The housekeeper continued to cluck at him chidingly, a warm smile hovering on her matronly lips at the child's antics.

At the head of the table, Aogiri Suzumi ate with quiet propriety, seemingly ignoring the chattering toddler and chiding housekeeper.  The content smile on the okami's lips gave away her calm amusement, however.

She chanced a casual glance in Aya's direction, silently regarding the subdued manner in which the young woman ate, picking slowly and delicately at the food on her plate.  The sadness in her movements was evident; the day's significance weighing heavily on her still-young mind.

Beside her at the table, Yuuhi ate in a somber silence of his own, the delicate nature of the woman beside him for the time being evidently straining at the young man's features.  Suzumi favored her brother-in-law with a tender expression.  She was well-aware of his feelings for the Mikage girl, which had grown in strength rather than waning over the years; as well as the protectiveness he had over the woman and her son.  To see her suffering so would undoubtedly tear at his own heart.  Suzumi could understand that pain, almost as easily as she could that of Aya's, which was a pain much more familiar to her own after the loss of her own beloved husband.

Despite the happiness that their small, collective family found together, it was a dark past they all shared, which forever clouded the promise of a contented future in the Aogiri household.

"Will you be going in to the restaurant today, Yuuhi?"

Suzumi's gentle inquiry broke the gloomy silence that seemed to hang over them all.

The young martial artist and chef looked up from his meal sharply, obviously startled out of thoughts of his own.

"Ah, i-iie," he answered shortly, dark brows furrowing slightly, "I thought I'd take the day off, in case…"

He broke off suddenly, glancing suddenly at Aya, who was still silently staring down at her plate, lost in her own world.  His hazel eyes saddened, and he averted his gaze again just as quickly.

Suzumi lowered her eyes politely, taking another neat bite from her plate.  "Aa sou…"

The dance kyooshi allowed herself a small frown.  After two years of hard work and study, Yuuhi had finally gained for himself an apprenticeship at one of the most prestigious traditional restaurants in the Tokyo area.  Cooking was Yuuhi's greatest pride and joy; his position for the last seven-and-a-half months at the Tomonori restaurant had set him on his way to fulfilling his childhood dream of becoming a great chef.

To put aside his love for that…

Aya seemed finally to become aware of what was being said.  She blinked crystalline eyes, looking up at the young man beside her who was now focused intently on his plate, trying to appear as if the matter were of no import.

"Nan de…?  Yuuhi, but…the restaurant!" she exclaimed, her voice soft at first in confusion, then rising with increasing distress.  "Are you sure?"

The hand holding his chopsticks stilled, freezing momentarily over his plate and instilling a quiet seriousness once more to the morning meal.  Setting the utensils down on their stand, he steadied himself for a reply, keeping his gaze on his half-empty plate.

"I thought…we could go down to Hachijo Island for the day," he spoke finally, his tone mincing and careful.

Everyone else at the table seemed suddenly to fall silent, eyes either intent upon the remains of their meal or upon the young man and the young blonde woman beside him.  The sound of Aya's chopsticks clattering unceremoniously on her plate seemed painfully loud in the ensuing silence.

"Aya-san…?" queried the matronly housekeeper, her tone soft, yet obviously distressed.

The young woman's voice was clear and controlled when she spoke, however.  "Ano, Yuuhi…" she began softly, sounding apologetic.  "That's not necessary…"

There was a soft click of chopsticks as Suzumi resumed her meal, causing the gazes of those present to fall suddenly on the Aogiri okami.

"I think that a trip to the ocean would be a wonderful break for us all," she exclaimed, to everyone's surprise.  She looked up suddenly from her meal, meeting the others' gazes with a gentle smile.

"And Sora hasn't seen the ocean since he was a baby.  It would be nice for him to see it again," she continued gently, roseate eyes warm with concealed understanding.  She turned to the green-eyed toddler, expression encouraging.

"Wouldn't that be nice, Sora-chan?"

The boy looked up at the soft-demeanored dancer, smiling despite his lack of understanding.  "Hai, Obaachan," he replied cheerily.

Across the table, Yuuhi cleared his throat uncomfortably, gaze shooting quickly to the young woman beside him.  "G-gomen, Aya.  If…if you'd rather not…"  The martial artist's cheeks flushed in embarrassment over his own audacity.  "I didn't mean to suggest…"

Aya's head remained bowed.  It couldn't be seen by the others present, but she was biting her lip, fighting back the warm tears that had inadvertently begun to well in her lilac-blue eyes.

"Iie," she spoke finally, her voice hardly above a whisper, but clear enough to the few present.  "Iie… Arigatou, Yuuhi.  A trip to the ocean would be nice."

*  *  *  *  *

The trip over to the island had seemed at once to take forever, and be uneventfully short all at the same time.  Yuuhi had eagerly kept little Sora occupied with games of 'I Spy' and such throughout both the train ride and then the ferry ride over; the three-year-old blissfully unaware of the significance of their trip as he giggled happily over Yuuhi's antics, occasionally running to his mother to share some newly discovered wonder.  Aya had watched them both shortly, smiling half-heartedly as resurgent memories continued to plague her; increasing the closer they got to their destination.  Then she had turned from their cheerful antics, staring out the glass of the train window, lost in a sea of painful memories.

"Aya," came Suzumi's voice softly, inquiringly, from behind her.  The blonde turned sharply, surprised from her depressed thoughts.

The dance kyooshi had smiled fleetingly, seating herself delicately beside the younger woman.  "Don't mind Yuuhi.  He only wishes for you to be happy," she spoke softly, her eyes not on her, but on her spirited brother-in-law, who stood some ways away pointing at something out the train window to the child in his arms.  A wistful smile hovered on her lips, as thoughts of her dearly departed Kazuma and unborn child entered her mind.  But her focus wasn't on her losses, but on Aya's, which were far more recent and raw than her own.

She turned to meet the blonde's somber gaze, still smiling; her smile now soft and encouraging, and full of understanding.  "This trip is his way of helping; by letting you face those memories that bring you pain and allowing them to bring you peace."

Her gaze moved once again, watching Yuuhi and Sora with a soft expression once more.  "Your time with Touya may have been cut short, but dwelling on that time only leaves the time you have left filled with sorrow and regrets.  I'm sure that both Touya, and Yuuhi, would never want the gift that has been left to you to go to waste."

The Aogiri okami had turned to her once more then, her delicate yet regal Japanese features striking Aya as deeply and effectively as her words.

"Wouldn't you agree, Aya?"

Aya had mulled over the other woman's words for the remainder of the train ride, and on through the ferry ride over to the island.

The sea breeze felt sharp and familiar as the small group broke at last from the path to the view of a familiar beach; Aya observing the well-known terrain with haunted, crystalline eyes.  The tang of salt in the air, the warm caress of the semi-tropical air; all served to remind her of the time she had spent here in perfect bliss.

Beyond that dune was where she had first met Touya; a small girl joyfully sharing in the discovery of a shell with a gentle stranger.  A time of innocence, and the joy of a child.

And here… Here was where they had shared many a warm embrace, basking in the warmth of the dying afternoon sun; looking out over the waves as the sun dipped slowly beyond the horizon.

Tearing her eyes away from the spot and her mind away from the memory, the young woman trudged mechanically back through the soft drifts of sand towards the path and solid ground once more.

Yuuhi, Sora, and Suzumi awaited her there, the two adults' gazes solemn.  The days when Yuuhi would have called out with mingled eagerness and impatience from the top of the hill to greet her, Suzumi smiling softly beneath a mask of parental annoyance… Those days were long gone.  They stood now, with all the years and experiences they'd withstood weighing down upon them as they patiently waited for her to rejoin them, and Aya felt a small, dull pang for those days once again.  She realized, to some extent, how many of the little things she had taken for granted in those days; something as simple and pure as the energetic light in Yuuhi's face, or the patient love in Suzumi's eyes.  She knew it was partially her own fault that some of those simple things had died, and it filled her with remorse.

Topping the dunes, the blonde didn't allow herself to meet their eyes, unwilling to face the pity she knew was there.  Instead, she kept her face low, mechanically outstretching her arms as Sora dashed towards her and she swooped him solemnly up in her embrace.  The child was silent, sensing the tension in the air; he clung silently to the front of her blouse, occasionally raising his spring green eyes to peer imploringly up at his mother as they stood for several moments in taut silence on the sand-swept walk.

Finally, Aya spoke up softly, her eyes still troubled and downcast as she gently pried Sora's fingers from her blouse.

"Yuuhi…  Will you…?"

The martial artist's hazel eyes were laced with pity and an unspoken pain as he nodded gently, stepping forward to take Sora from her arms.  The boy's gaze bounced uncertainly between the two adults, confusion obvious in his young face, but he continued to remain silent; just as content to remain in the martial artist's strong arms as his mother's.

"Aya…" began Yuuhi hesitantly, but faded out inefficiently; his brows drawn tightly.  The young man's emotions warred openly on his face, as had always been his way, though he valiantly held them in check.  His control had grown substantially in the last several years, but it was most likely he would never succeed in masking them from her, as much as he would have liked to…especially during times like these.

Yuuhi was Yuuhi, thought Aya wryly.  It had been the exact opposite with Touya.  Touya had been the master of disguise; with both his identity and his heart, regardless of the years they spent together and how close they had become.

But then, Touya and Yuuhi had always been polar opposites.  Like hot and cold running water; day and night.

Again, the familiar pang of grief and confusion that she had been feeling as of late returned to her.

"We'll be on the beach, Aya," spoke up Suzumi softly after several moments; her tone gentle and assuring, as well as the soft gaze she gave the younger woman.  Aya seemed not to notice, her eyes still distant.  She nodded dully, turning at last from the group to trudge quietly up the opposite path from whence they had come.

The trio watched in silence as she disappeared from the beach; her feet following the path with unconscious familiarity as her mind still lay consumed in a fog.

The spot was the same as she remembered it; pristine and seemingly untouched; a small expanse of spring green amidst the surrounding dark flora.  The headstone still seemed new, its epitaph carved fresh with hardly any show of wear from the effects of nature.  The scattered, ashy remains of incense—which had long ago burnt out; all remnants of their aroma washed away by the rain—and a fresh bouquet of pungent flowers that Aya did not recognize lay before it, suggesting that someone had been here to pay their respects quite recently.  Their perfume seemed both familiar and excruciatingly foreign as it drifted to her nose, dancing on a faint breeze that rustled her long blonde hair and teased the hem of her skirt as she gazed at the small grave with aching, crystalline eyes.

She stood that way for what seemed like forever, her mind a blank with the wash of overwhelming emotions that pressed in on her.  She had expected to cry, to pour out her heart to the stone semblance that marked her husband's grave.  She had not expected to find herself so numb with emotion she could do nothing but stare as the day turned long and dim about her.

At last she stirred, willing her atrophied limbs to break from her frozen vigil; a part of her insistent that she gain some sort of finality, some relief from her brief sojourn.

"Touya…" she began softly, her voice surprisingly clear after its lack of use.  "Koishii, what should I do?"

Her voice broke, desperation tingeing her somber tone as she took a shaky, hesitant step towards her husband's grave.  Her hands fumbled at the collar of her blouse, retrieving the seashell that hung from a thin chain around her neck and fingering it lovingly.

"We are happy, just like you wished," she murmured painfully, her voice becoming even fainter with grief as she continued, "Your Sora is happy…and so beautiful."

The woman's voice faltered, yet still her eyes were devoid of tears.  "But Touya…every so often…always on this day…"

A shaky breath cut off her words.  Aya closed her eyes briefly, clinging for control as she tried to continue; finding the words difficult.  She felt unable to express her loss in words, her need for solace from the pain that wracked her every year, on this day.  She struggled briefly for her tongue, eyelashes fluttering wildly as she opened her eyes once again to the sight of his grave; cold and unresponsive to her pleas.

"The loneliness, koishii…" she breathed softly, achingly, her voice trembling ever so slightly.  The sun-bleached stone danced before her eyes, which were filling slowly with unshed tears.  "How can I…?"

A strong breeze whipped up as she trailed off once again, bowing her head for restraint.  The edges of her skirt danced in its grasp; her blonde hair whipping softly about her face and flashing in the light of the swollen, evening sun.

Gripping the fabric of her skirt as if struggling to maintain her balance, she looked up once again with eyes of empty violet; faint amazement and indecision in her stance.  As she had spoken, had searched so desperately for comfort from his spirit, it had not been her dead lover's gaze that danced before her eyes, but the familiar face of another man.  Even now, that he could affect her so completely, even amidst her sorrow for her departed love, both amazed and tortured her.  The familiar sense of confusion and accompanying pain assaulted her once more; a feeling that had become far more prominent in the days leading up to this painful anniversary, to which she could no longer deny.

She realized suddenly that it hadn't been that her grief at Touya's loss had grown more acute, but that her growing confusion regarding Yuuhi had left her with an overwhelming sense of guilt.  And as she struggled with this sudden comprehension, the tears she had kept at bay up till now spilt over; breaking at last through the barrier of grief that had frozen her over.

"Gomen," she whispered, her voice trembling even more than before and filled with horror at her own conflicted feelings.  She did not sob, but rather her tears were silent; streaking her face in an unspoken path.  "Gomen nasai, koishii…gomen."

And aching with the surge of guilt that rose within her, she spun harshly about and hurried quickly from the small gravesite; the heavy fragrance of Kurotsuka-sensei's flowers following in her wake.

Touya's gravestone made no sign of recognition at her passing, nor attempted any solution to her tears.  It remained in silent vigil beneath its offering of flowers; an unassuming slab of smooth, well-carved stone; silent as the grave.

As tortured as she was by its silence, Aya had expected nothing more of it.

*  *  *  *  *

Glossary

Kyooshi – teacher; instructor

Okami – mistress (of a household [or restaurant])

Koishii – dear; beloved

References

Kurotsuka-sensei – In case some of you could not recall this character, he was the doctor that

appeared briefly in the anime (I'm not sure how much he appears in the manga.) He saved Touya when he was injured in Niigata trying to retrieve Aya from the Mikage labs; and later on, served as a mentor for the couple when they lived in an apartment in Niigata.

Since he lived near Hachijo Island, I thought it would be likely that he would go to honor Touya's grave on the anniversary of his death.  As you can see, Aya seems to make the assumption that the flowers are from him just before leaving the grave.  The fact that the flowers perfume—though she did not recognize them—was familiar was my subtle suggestion that they may have been something she recalled of Kurotsuka-sensei and her time with Touya in Niigata.