A few weeks later, Akito got sick. Really sick. I remember now, near the end of the evening on New Year's Eve, Akito started to look pale and was coughing. He had to retire early by Hatori's orders.

And now he's worse than before. I remember that evening when Hatori called Shigure late and he talked for a long time to Shigure. Shigure seemed worried at what Hatori was telling him, and that made me worried. I was scared.

When he finally got off the phone with Hatori, he quietly told me Akito was running a high fever and vomiting. Akito had been a lot worse than usual; Hatori wasn't sure what to do.

When he told me this, memories flashed across my mind.

"I have to die early."

"I was born in order to die."

"Or I should say, Akito. He has frequent fevers."

"They are all able to live because of me."

I began to wonder if this was part of the Sohma curse. Was this the opening to the long trial awaiting Akito until his death? I thought of how sad we all were going to be when he passed away. And right now, that seemed iminant.

I thought, we are told to believe in the gods to guide us and help us through life. They say the spirits are with everyone, but what about the Sohmas? Where are the gods for them? They are forced to face the trials of life without aid and protection. What a hard life that must be. Only now, do I realize their hardships, and suffering, and pain they must experience so much of because of their curse. And I have chosen to live without help myself, because I have chosen to live with the Sohmas. But the Sohmas are my help and my hope. They are my family now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~` Over the short time period of a few weeks, I had become unusually conscious of Akito. So when Hatori mentioned to Shigure he needed help, I was the first to volunteer.

I'm not sure what I expected to get out of it, maybe just the satisfaction of helping out Hatori and maybe to help Akito get better. But by this point it was much more than a simple fever, it had become increasingly more serious over the weeks, thus, increasing the stress in everyone else as well. Not even Hatori seemed to have doubts that this was it.

But I refused to give up hope. This may just be a passing illness, but it sure didn't appear that way. Akito's body seemed to be making no attempts to get better and heal itself, but just fall deeper into illness. He was always pale and sickly looking, that healthy glow gone from his face; his sleep was fitful and uneased.

But now, I just wanted to help and be with Akito to help him through this. I still kept hope that maybe this wasn't the end.

Hatori had to attend to other patients within the Sohmas and so left me alone with Akito for the day. Akito was sleeping peacefully, taking a nap. Normally, he would be up and enjoying the company of the birds had he not been sick. I secretly, missed that for him.

Today was one of Akito's better days and had been moving around a little earlier that day. I listened to his soft, heavy breaths silently by his bed. The clocked on the wall ticked in it's usual rythm, never missing a beat, so precise. Each tick seemed to be counting down to Akito's last breath and seemed to come whenever he took a breath. I shut that thought from my mind and told myself not to think that way. Akito wouldn't die, he couldn't, I wouldn't allow him to give in to this illness.

I pulled my knees into me on the chair. I was lost in thought when the sickly young man on the bed opened his eyes wearily. Coming back to attention, I released my legs and stood quickly. "Hello. Did you have a good sleep?" I said with cheerfulness only for his sake. He moaned and blinked slowly. "Where is Hatori?" he asked with a parched throat. "He has to attend to some other patients. He'll be back by tonight," I said, not letting a bit of sadness creep into my voice. I smiled warmly at him. He nodded slowly.

"You should get some more sleep. Don't talk too much," I said. "Maybe you'll feel a little better when you wake up," I said encouragingly. But I knew that was just wishful thinking; I knew Akito was far from feeling better. Just that thought made we want to cry, but I let no part of that creep into my voice. I must stay positive, for him. I had to be strong.

"No. I am well enough," he objected. He flung the covers off of him, and despite the rings under his eyes, stood from the bed. He retied his robes that hung limply around his thin form; he had lost a lot of weight over the period of his sickness. Jumping to his aid, I offered him something to eat. "Would you like something to eat, or drink?" I asked. "No," he said. I smiled when he wasn't looking. I guess people like Akito always have to still be gruff and indifferent a little, even when they're sick. But I feared that maybe one day he would become too sick to care. I sincerely hoped that never ever happened.

I helped out with Akito whenever possible, but all my efforts were in vain, for Akito still would not heal himself and become better. He just seemed to drop deeper and deeper into sickness. And it made me hurt for him. I wanted so badly for him to be cured, I wanted him to live so desperately. And yet, all my prayers and wishes just seemed to be tossed aside. Where were the spirits to help the Sohmas, to help Akito? _______________________

The end of ch. 2. The next chapter will be *coughcough* deadly (that's a trick word).