Her brown eyes watered as she stepped into the room. She had just, in one second, walked out of the comfort of Yuki, of Kyo, of all of them. She would never… never…

"Honda-san."

Hatori's voice broke her out of her thoughts. He stood near the wall, eyes filled with guilt, bracing himself for the wave of regret that would soon hit him. She had seen his eyes like this before, in a way. He became like this whenever someone mentioned Kana.

"I…I'm… fine, Hatori-san." Tohru put another foot forward, body trembling, desperately wanting to run away, slam open the door, go back to her home.
But she couldn't.

She took another step forward. She would never know them – not like she did now. Her memories would be torn away from her, robbed from her mind forever. Everything about the curse. Those glinting eyes, telling her, "I love you." Even the small study sessions with Yuki, where he had helped her analyze a poem called "Eternal Memories." Attempting to get something to distract herself from her fate, she recited a stanza in her head.

The shining light throughout our lives
Is not extinguished as our earthly time ends;

Momiji, Kisa, Shigure… all of them. Gone. She could… she could never…

The beacon burns with effervescence

And illuminates with splendor for eternity

She wanted to cry out, to disregard everything Akito said, to continue living as she always had been… but she couldn't.

Love radiates from within,
stays inside the hearts and souls of those we know;

Unknown to her, tears started falling. She hated herself, for a split second, at that moment. She was being so selfish. She could never, she wouldn't be able to… but she couldn't help it. That longing, that yearning to stay with them, learn with them… was it selfishness, or was it…?

The gift of love is shared and recalled,
and discovers home within our cherished memories.

Momiji had said… he'd said that he wanted to keep the memories. That no memory was okay to forget. That he wanted to believe that. Not that it was true, but he wanted it to be true. And at that time, she had felt the same. Even if there was pain, she also wanted to keep the love, the happiness in those memories… but she couldn't.

Oh, sweet memories–oh, sweet love,
which we hold so dear to our hearts-

She would lose the memories. They weren't okay to forget… but she was being forced to forget. She had to. This wasn't right.

stamped into our consciousness,
flowing through the veins of time,

She heard Hatori telling her to sit down, but she paused before she did so. Surely, something would happen. Surely this would be interrupted. Surely, this couldn't happen.

coming to a halt now and then
to present themselves again.

But nothing was happening. She felt Hatori still in front of him; he also wanted to wake up, thinking it was all a dream… both of them… no, all of them… wanted this to be a dream. A dream. Please let it be a dream.

Oh, sweet memories–oh, sweet love,
come forward with abounding grace-

She heard herself sobbing, rather loudly at that. She could almost feel him stiffen at the sound of it. She knew what he must be thinking: I want to go in there and stop it, but I can't. All of them, her especially, were helpless.

with all your mighty power
bloom in full expression;

She felt Hatori's hand rise, and clutch her forehead. She would forget it all. That joy, that sadness. Childish laughter. Sweet lips against hers, as a parting gift. Fiery orange hair, so close…

expand, enthrall, and overflow,
as we claim you-always ours.

There was a blur, and then black, sweet, comforting black. What was she forgetting? What was this?

They were like ribbons, flying away, being torn into pieces. She tried to grasp them, but she was falling, falling… she held one, but it slipped through her fingers.

She hit the floor, brown strands flying about her, letting out a shriek of frustration, of loss, of not knowing what she was missing. She saw a flash of orange hair, someone, someone, peering through the doorway horrified.

She closed her eyes and allowed the silence to overtake her. She distantly recalled something – whispered words that echoed through her mind.

"As we claim you-always ours."

And then, although she had no idea what the line meant, she knew…

She knew it was a lie.

End

Disclaimer: I do not own Furuba, nor do I own the poem. The poem is Eternal Memories, by Linda Pendleton.