Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket.


CHAPTER 9

"So," Yuki said from the kitchen, standing over the sink with a pot in his hands. For the past month he had walked in a lanky motion, not really caring about consequences of his actions. Many days he would stay locked up in his room, not bothering to leave the house for school or even leave his room for meals. Why eat? Why bother? But when Hatori and Kyo had rushed into the house, faces eager, he had allowed himself out of his room, wondering and pleading internally. They explained (Hatori mostly) what had happened at the office and Yuki allowed himself to jump into the conversation. "What does this mean? Is she going to remember us?"

"You can never tell," Hatori answered professionally, "The memories were indeed buried deep, but with Tohru, anything can happen."

"Kyo," Shigure said from Yuki's left side, "What exactly did she say to you?" These days, Shigure didn't allow himself to breathe Tohru's name. It was an unspoken agreement, only the few calm and collected could let it fall from their lips without a stricken look upon their face. The Juunishi thought that Shigure would be able to handle this, more so than everybody else if only a little, but he had fallen short. He closed himself up in his office much like Yuki, only coming out for brief intervals. His laugh and smile, witty comments and quirky sense of humor were greatly missed. It seemed as if Tohru had unintentionally stolen a part of each of the Juunishi, taking it with her. For Shigure, it was what they needed the most: laughter and happiness.

Kyo sighed. "She was just about to go, she said thank you to Hatori and then she turned to me and said, 'Bye Kyo, I hope you feel better.' Then I asked her how she knew my name was Kyo," he smiled, remembering the look of surprise that he had grown accustomed to on Tohru's face, "And she said that I feel like a Kyo. She remembers it from somewhere."

"She said that to me, too." Shigure said suddenly. "You know, that night? You were all asleep and we were talking. She said that my name sounds familiar. But she couldn't place it with a face. My face." He looked sad. "Well, if you'll excuse me. I need to get back to work."

"Work?" Hatori and Yuki said in unison.

Shigure's face flushed and said, "A book. I am a novelist you know. I can't give up. Besides, I'm getting to the good part."

And with that he was off, trailing back into his dark corner.

The room was dark and comfortable, just the way he liked it. He sat at his desk, thinking and plotting harder than he ever had before. This book was it, the turning point. He craned his neck, flexing his muscles to get comfortable. Then, inspiration struck.

"Yuki! Kyo! Come here for a minute."

The cat and rat made their way to the novelist's office, walking in and staring at him, waiting for him to speak.

"Sit down. I want you to listen to something." He said, grinning and pointing to the chairs opposite him.

Yuki was already making his way to the door, "Not now Shigure. I don't want to listen to your perverted stories."

"That hurts me, Yuki-kun." The novelist said, clutching his heart. "Actually, with all of these events swirling around, it hit me. This was all happening for a reason! The Gods are testing us my dear boys. Come, come. Listen." When they didn't budge he said, "Please. It'll only be a few moments."

The mouse and cat, bitter enemies, put their differences aside just for now. In all honesty, they were too tired to even think about fighting. They sat down resignedly in front of their cousin and waited for him to speak again. Instead, he shoved two stacks of paper their way and said, "Read this. Please."

The two looked at him and Kyo asked, "What is it?"

"Kyon-Kyon. Even you know that that's paper! Honestly my dear boy, you should be paying attention in school more." Shigure laughed his bark-like laugh but the boys glared on. "Fine, fine. It's a story. A new kind of story actually. It's for people your age. It has everything you need in a story really. Heartbreak," he ticked them off his fingers, "guilt, pain, love, honesty, regret. And not to mention, a wicked witch. I think it'll be a big hit."

"Shigure," Yuki said quietly, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because!" Shigure said, losing his demeanor. "You cannot sulk around the house all your life and I will not let you. She had changed you Yuki, and you too Kyo. You both know it, but now that she's gone, you've died. It wasn't her fault-"

"Nobody said it was Shigure," Kyo said heatedly.

"No. Everybody's blaming it on Hatori. Do you know what this is doing to him? Not even Kana affected him this way. Tohru had a way with everybody, so why don't you stop being so selfish. Other people are hurt! You can't go on sulking just because you're in pain. Think of what Tohru's going through right now. She can't even remember her mother. How do you think that must feel? What if you woke up one day, in a room full of strangers expecting the impossible from you? What if you woke up one day and Tohru was standing over you, but you couldn't remember who she was? What would you do Yuki? Kyo?"

They were silent, realizing that they had indeed been selfish; more so than usual.

"Well," Kyo said quietly, "what do you want me to do?"

"Read the story Kyo. That's all I'm asking." Yuki looked up at Shigure's pleading tone. He took a good look at his older cousin. The life was gone from his eyes, he moved mechanically, not caring much. That little speech was the most passionate thing either of them had heard from him in a month. At twenty five, he looked forty. Yet, they hadn't noticed; nobody had. Everybody had been so caught up in their own grief that they hadn't noticed anybody else's.

Kyo stood up, grabbing the papers, and walked out the room. He hurried up the stairs, two at a time, and into his room. He rushed in, placing the papers on his bed, and then hurried out. He had to go somewhere, and that somewhere was only a few steps away. He quietly walked down the hallway into Tohru's room, closing the door quietly behind him. The furniture was still there, complete with a full pink comforter over her bed, but the clothes and hair ribbons were now filling closets and drawers in her grandfather's house; her house. He walked the perimeter of the room, running his fingers over the smooth wood of her dresser. He sat on her bed, breathing in the scent that seemed to linger in the room, even after all of these days. He ran his hand under the pillow and felt something papery. He pulled his hand out, object in tow. A letter, with Tohru's handwriting on the envelope reading, "My beloved Sohma's."