The Sohma Institute
By Lady of the Ink
Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket, but you knew that . . .I hope. I do own this story, though, and all the plot twists it contains.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Midnight Deliberations
Tohru sat on the floor of her living room with her legs folded beneath her. Although night had long since fallen, she hadn't bothered to switch on any of the lights. The faint glow filtering through the curtains was barely bright enough to illuminate the small room, but she didn't mind. The thoughts she was having at that moment seemed better suited to a dark, shadow filled room.
Kagura Sohma had told her many things during their conversation days before. There had been information on the Sohma family in general and more on the members she had already chanced to meet. There had even been some talk about the happier memories the older girl could recall, times when everyone was together and there was no need for sneaking around and making drastic plans. All in all, it had been a lot to take in at one time and she hadn't yet had a chance to sort them out in her head. Once Kagura had reached the end of her speech and she had realized the decision she would be forced to make, all the other facts seemed to fade into the background of her consciousness.
The first few hours of her deliberation had focused solely on which side she would take in the encounter that was soon to come. If it were found out that she helped Kagura accomplish her goal, she was sure to lose her job. As powerful as the Sohma family was, there were plenty of ways they could affect her chances of finding another one. And there was no guarantee that they would even be successful. For all she knew, Kagura's plan could fail. She would be without a job, Kagura would be in trouble, and the four boys would be trapped on the twelfth floor with no one left to come to their aid.
On the other hand, she could ignore everything she had learned and continue on as though nothing had happened. She would do the jobs assigned to her and try her best to remain detached from the people and the activities around her. It was the safer route, but one she quickly decided she couldn't take. She couldn't leave them there, not when she was as certain as she could possibly be that there was something fishy going on in the Institute.
Exactly what that fishy thing could be was the issue now on her mind. The story that had been given to the family to explain Yuki, Kyou, Haru, and Momiji's absences had more than a few holes in it. She and Kagura had agreed that it seemed like someone simply figured out the most easily acceptable idea for the occasion and passed it off as the truth.
Agreeing on that brought about the understanding that the boys' detainment was for another reason entirely; a fact which was the current source of her pondering state. If not for their own well being, then why were four seemingly healthy people being all but quarantined? What possible benefit could it bring and to who?
Unable to let it rest, Tohru had begun compiling all the information she knew together in her mind. Piece by piece, she carefully went over every word she had seen, heard, or otherwise obtained. Aside from what Kagura had told her, there were the two rulebooks, the lie to Momiji's mother, and the comments that both Kyou and Haru had let slip. She was also thinking more closely about the odd things she had seen for the first time. Haru's mysterious rash, the bruises on Kyou's arm, the strange pattern of doctor visits and the absolute secrecy surrounding them. She knew the answer was there; she simply had to find it.
Shaking her head weakly, Tohru stretched out on her back and stared at the ceiling. Her current situation left her dealing with the worst combination of feelings she could imagine: the pressure of needing to solve the problem mixed with a weighty sensation of helplessness because, so far, she couldn't. It was very similar to what she had gone through when her grandfather was so ill. She could remember sitting at his bedside, holding his hand while he slept. She remembered the difficulty of helping him believe that everything would be okay when she wasn't sure she believed it herself.
The worst part had been the testing of new medicines, though. There was always the hesitant feeling of hope when they first administered it, followed by the slow agony of waiting to see if it would work. It had taken almost a dozen tries before they found the correct formula and dosage, and Tohru could still remember vividly the surge of pain the first eleven failures had brought. There had been side effects, too, to some of the medications. They were smaller and less dangerous than the disease they sought to conquer, but still hurdles that had to be handled and fought through. Rolling onto her side, Tohru curled up in a fetal position. She felt like she was back in that moment now, struggling to overcome the smaller problems all while knowing a larger one loomed in the background.
It was almost funny, really. She had chosen to study psychiatry in order to avoid times like this. Therapists healed the minds of their patients while maintaining a safe distance from them. Although she didn't have her degree yet, that was the same concept behind her job at the Institute: helping in a caring but non-emotionally involved manner.
She should have been able to accomplish what she had been hired to do while ignoring everything outside of that.
That prospect was a lost cause now since it was far too late for her to stop being concerned about them. She was paying the price for that now, stuck in the same situation she had been in with her grandfather. It was so hard for her to watch people she was fond of be in any kind of pain. Like when she had noticed Haru's arm. Even though he had been frightening her just moments before, when she saw that he was hurt, all her fear flew out the window. Everything began to revolve around what she could do to help him.
She frowned a bit as she remembered the condition of his arm beneath the bandages. It had been a very bad case of hives, the worst she had ever seen. That was saying something since her grandfather had contracted a horrible case of them himself from one of his remedies . . .
Tohru's eyes flew wide open in shock, her entire body stiffening with a sudden flash of insight. She sat up, her mind racing as she struggled to sort out the epiphany that had just struck her. Somehow, the worrying, memories, and random ideas that had been fluttering through her mind had just solidified into one clear, concise thought. It was like having a single moment of perfect clarity. And in that clarity she had found something she wasn't sure she could believe was right.
As unwilling as she was to consider that the upsetting theory she had just had was true, Tohru found all the pieces of the mystery slipping into place. Things that had puzzled her before started to make sense, and further proof came when the words of Kagura and Haru came back to her.
"They tested every blood relative of Akito's in the family, but only those four were taken away."
"Do you think anyone would want to do this to themselves? Well, he did. He was willing to go through this rather than admit he needed help. But then they told him he couldn't, that he wouldn't be able to handle it. That's when he ordered the twelfth floor to be created."
The puzzle was finally beginning to match the box, and it was forming a very distressing picture.
Her husband was lying to her.
That certainty had come to Minna Sohma during the days after her encounter with the girl from the Institute. The suspicions raised by the meeting had caused her to take a closer look at the people around her, starting with her husband. The things she was discovering chilled her to the bone.
She had decided to bring up Momiji's name at random times, something she hadn't done since the funeral. It had been upsetting to her before, a reminder of what she had lost. Now, with the hope that had flared to life in her breast, she found it more like a mantra that gave her strength.
She had needed that strength to carry out her research one night at dinner. Purposely making some of Momiji's favorite foods, she had commented on it in the middle of the meal. The reaction was instantaneous. While Momo had seemed only mildly fazed, the same could not be said for her father. His fork fell to his plate with a clatter and Minna could have sworn that all the blood rushed from his face. He had brushed it off with a sheepish smile, but the reaction had stayed firmly in the front of her mind.
It was in response to that that had Minna slipping from her bedroom in the middle of the night. Her husband was hiding something from her and she was going to try her best to find out what it was. Judging by his response to her test, it had something to do with their son.
Pausing often to make sure she hadn't woken anyone, she moved into the small office that her husband retreated to each night after dinner. The desk in the corner was covered with papers and folders, but she didn't give them a second glance. If he had something that he wouldn't want her to see, he certainly wouldn't keep it there. The best bet was his briefcase, which was hardly ever out of his sight.
Finding the case in the corner of the room, Minna dropped to the floor and clicked it open. It was more than half full of folders and reports, many stamped with the word "Confidential" in red ink. She began going through them, careful to keep them in the exact order and condition that she had found them.
The first few sheets proved to be nothing more dubious than a couple of expense reports and several drafts of an official interoffice memo. It wasn't until she was nearly to the bottom of the pile that she found something that caught her eye.
It was a legal sized envelope, the only one in the batch. The front was blank with the exception of a name scrawled in the upper left corner. 'Ms. Almont,' Minna read with a frown. She had thought she knew everyone who worked with her husband but that was a name she didn't recognize. Feeling a sense of unease creep into her stomach, she lifted the prongs and slid out the sheets of paper inside. Reading over the printed words, she felt her throat begin to close and her knees weaken with shock.
What have they done?!
Kureno Sohma sat at the foot of his bed, listening carefully to the silence of the night as it settled around him. Akito, whose room was directly next door, had retired hours before, although it was anyone's guess whether he was asleep or awake. The younger man had many odd habits, including staying up for days at a time, that Kureno had been forced to manage in one way or another.
Another of those unusual habits had started to surface early on in their acquaintanceship. Akito had a driving need to collect as much information on the people around him as was possible. Most likely it was a side effect of being put in a position of extreme power at such a young age. It was a quirk ingrained in his personality helping him, Kureno assumed, to feel more in control. Due to this, Kureno had become something of an expert at digging up various facts through channels both conventional and somewhat shady.
The first few times that such a task had been set before him by Akito he had felt uncertain and a bit guilty over completing it. Time and practice had seen to it that it became simply another of his abnormal duties. While he derived no pleasure or pride from doing it and doing it well, he had come to the point where he no longer questioned. He just did the work in an automatic fashion, mentally withdrawn from the whole process.
Until Tohru Honda appeared on the scene.
He sighed, shifting slightly on the bed. Ever since her name had first been spoken in his presence, things that he thought were established in his life had begun to change. The people around him began to change. It had taken only one visit after her arrival to notice the difference in his cousins. Even though they tried to hide it, there was a new air about them. He would almost have to call it hope.
Apparently Akito had noticed the same thing because it was immediately following that visit that he requested the check on Tohru Honda. For the first time in a long time, Kureno had hesitated to obey. For all that he knew and understood the reasons behind Akito's actions, he had always been uncomfortable with the creation of the twelfth floor. He was certain there was an easier way to handle the situation, but he knew that even if he dared to bring that opinion up, Akito would never listen.
Sliding off the bed, Kureno moved to stand by his room's only window. Being in the midst of the city as he was, there wasn't much of a view. It didn't matter, though, since it wasn't outside that he was looking. His mind had turned back to the scene he had seen from another window. Tohru Honda had been leaving work when she was stopped by Kagura. There was no need for him to hear their words in order to recognize the apprehension and beseeching in Kagura's stance. She was obviously asking something of Tohru and more than a little worried about being caught in the process. It was simple to guess that it had something to do with the four patients that tied the two together.
He should have told Akito about it immediately, but he hadn't. The more time that passed, the less he wanted to interfere in whatever the two were planning. He had known for a long time that things shouldn't be allowed to remain the way that they were. It was time for change, and it was possible those two would be the ones to bring it about.
Sliding his hand into his pocket, Kureno withdrew the slip of paper that rested there. He didn't need to see the writing to recall the name and number scrawled there. Arisa Uotani, the girl he'd met at Tohru's apartment. They'd had lunch together that day, and she had made it clear she wouldn't mind seeing him again.
A small smile tipped his lips as he remembered what it had felt like to be with her. It would be nice to have the chance to experience something good for a change. He had spent too much time wrapped in the secrecy and self-indulgence that followed Akito around. Maybe it was time to let things happen as they would.
