By the time Momo and Momiji disconnected, they'd been talking for nearly three hours. Momo felt completely raw and emotionally overwhelmed; she doubted she had so much as a single tear left in her body. And while the conversation hadn't given her everything she'd hoped for, it had been a start.

A truly wonderful start.

"I'll let you know after I've talked to Papa, or if I can't talk to Papa, as soon as I can," Momiji said as they were preparing to end the call. "And then...we'll go from there."

"We'll go from there," Momo agreed, then smiled at him. "Can we talk again soon?"

"Ja, of course. Regardless of what happens next...now you know," Momiji said, beaming at her.

"Yes, I do."

And it was wonderful.


As the laptop screen went dark, Momiji let out a slow, deep exhale, closing his eyes and clasping his hands over his mouth as he breathed out. Then he opened them, looking at the blank screen displaying the words 'call ended...' and smiled.

He still couldn't quite believe what had just happened. For seventeen years, he'd been on the outside, watching Momo live and grow. Watching her with their parents, happy and loved. Loving her himself. Yes, a part of him had been jealous, but it had been a wistful jealousy; he had never wanted to replace her, just to join her. To be with her. To know her.

To be her big brother.

It had never been allowed. Even though Hatori had said Sabine's memory suppression was strong and stable, that her replacement memories should have been enough, Koshiro had never been willing to take that risk. Momiji was never supposed to talk to Sabine, or even be around her; after their accidental meeting in Koshiro's building all though years ago, Momiji's access within the building had been limited, and he and Koshiro had had a serious 'talk' about the dangers involved in the two of them crossing paths.

Momiji hadn't believed it...but he hadn't argued, either. He never argued, not once.

That accidental meeting had nevertheless started something, something that once in progress couldn't be stopped. It brought him to Momo's attention, and once she noticed him, it was as though she'd found the purpose she'd never known.

That day Tohru snuck into the main estate to find Kureno, the day that Momo had helped her, had proved an amazing day. Momiji had been shocked and astonished to learn that the little sister he had always watched and always loved had in turn been watching him. That she wanted to know him, that she wanted to be like him, that she wanted him to be her big brother. That everything he'd ever hoped for, she had hoped for, too.

Knowing she felt the same had almost been enough to ease the pain of their father's continued refusal to let them see each other.

'I know, Momiji, and I'm sorry. Momo...she's just too observant. And she's still so young, and so excitable...if she were to hug you, if she were to see...'

And as much as it hurt, Momiji could somewhat understand. He had always been affectionate himself, so he couldn't be surprised his father was worried about him transforming. Momo was so young; would she be able to understand, if she saw?

Would she have been traumatized, and avoided him?

Or simply had her memories erased, just like their mother?

No...it had been better, he supposed. Better for Momo to grow up a little more, better for Momiji to grow up a little more...at least now, he knew. He knew that Momo cared for him, and not even Hatori could ever take that knowledge away from him.


'I didn't think it would come so suddenly...the end.'

The night his Curse broke, Momiji had been unprepared. It had been late; he should have been sleeping. But instead, he'd been lying awake, thinking about that day. Thinking about Tohru. And thinking about Kyo.

'I mean, you know, right?'

About the woman he loved, the man she loved, and how that man loved her back. And how very, very much it hurt, even though what he most wanted for her was to be happy...

And then, suddenly, swiftly...it was over. Like his very soul was breaking, a piece of himself being ripped out and cast aside. Left with an aching loneliness...and then a freedom he'd never even begun to imagine.

He had prepared himself for Akito's anger. It would never be easy, for God to let go of any of his animals. But it had still been so hard to stand there and listen to his fears thrown back into his face: the fear that he would have nothing, that no one would be there for him. That his Curse breaking didn't necessarily mean happiness, and might only mean he was alone. That his family...was not guaranteed.

But Momiji had stood strong. He had thought about those things, and he was admittedly scared. But he wasn't going to let that fear hold him back, not when he was finally able to truly step forward on his own. He might fail, but he could try...and just because happiness wasn't guaranteed didn't mean he wouldn't still try for it.

'The truth is, I've never felt so free.'

He had to try.


'Papa...it's gone. My Curse...it's gone!'

There had been so many emotions in those early days; so many complicated, sometimes conflicting emotions. Excitement; fear. Resignation. Happiness. Uncertainty. Hope...

Akito had asked him if he'd thought his parents would just take him back in...and he'd said no. He had known it would never be that simple. It wasn't as though his mother would suddenly remember him, as though they could go back and create a past that had never existed. His dream of a family, of the four of them all living together, with himself embraced as their son and brother...it had always been impossible.

But he had still held out hope, for some things.

His father had turned pale when Momiji told him, staring at him with wide, astonished eyes. He'd had to lean against his desk, unable to stand as he processed what his son was telling him. And for a moment Momiji had smiled, his face lit up with excitement and eager anticipation.

'Momiji...I need you to promise me that you'll still keep your distance from Mama. Even without the Curse...even if you can't transform...it could still be too much. She's done so well, all these years, but if she were to get too close...if she were to somehow start to remember...'

It had been crushing. Before anything else, any joy or gratitude or excitement...there had been fear. Fear, and continued restriction.

How had he allowed himself even to hope things would be different?

'I promise, Papa.'

'Good. Thank you, Momiji.'

The look on his father's face had been one of pure relief. And it was only after that that he'd looked at Momiji and smiled, the smile admittedly genuine, but so painfully delayed.

'I'm so very happy for you, Momiji; so very, very happy.'

Momiji had returned the smile as best he could, and returned the hug Koshiro enveloped him in. But it still hurt...and it didn't stop hurting. It couldn't stop hurting, how much things hadn't changed.


'Please, Papa? I won't say anything to her, you can trust me on that. All I want is to get to know her, just a little bit.'

'I know, Momiji, and I do. You've never given me a reason not to trust you, I promise you that. But it's still...complicated.'

Momiji had felt so incredibly betrayed. The Curse was gone; the risk of transformation was gone. It didn't matter, anymore, if Momo were to hug him. At last, they were able to spend time together; to talk, and play their violins, and finally get to know one another.

Or so Momiji had thought.

'Momo still talks about you all the time, and asks about you regularly. I just...I worry, Momiji. She's only ten, but she's always been so observant; if she were to spend more time around you, and start to notice things, and ask more questions...'

It had been so hard to understand. What did it matter, if Momo asked questions? That didn't mean they had to be answered, or answered with the truth. That had always been the way, hadn't it? To answer...or not answer...in the way that best fit the situation.

Wasn't that the way Koshiro had always handled Momiji? Why would Momo be any different?

Momiji had tried not to be bitter, but it was hard. Everything had been so incredibly hard; all around him he saw ease and happiness for his fellow former Zodiacs, but not for Momiji himself.

And then...

'Momiji...I need you to remember your promise. Momo doesn't know any of this, not even that you and I are more than even slightly acquainted. Remember: you are just another Sohma child. You can be her friend, but make sure you're reminding her of your age difference and how busy you are with high school...make sure she understands it has to be a distant friendship.'

Had he known, even while he promised, that he was going to break it? He would mostly keep his word; he wouldn't tell her anything. He wouldn't tell her who he was, not to her, not to their parents. He wouldn't tell her how much he'd always loved her, how much he'd always wanted the chance to know her. He wouldn't tell her about the Curse, about why he'd been cast out. There, he would keep his word.

But the rest of it was impossible. It didn't matter that they were seven years apart; it didn't matter that he'd be graduating barely over a year after they were finally allowed to meet. He would respect what Momo wanted; he would never force a closeness on her that she didn't reciprocate. But if Momo was willing, theirs would never be a 'distant friendship,' and he would never be too busy for her.

That first day they had sat together in the small park on the Sohma estate, Momiji had been so overwhelmed and excited that he almost couldn't believe it. For ten years, they'd been kept apart, never allowed to spend any time together or even really see each other. Momo had never even heard him speak until that fateful day at his father's building barely a year and a half prior. But now, they could finally sit together, and talk. She might not know who he was...but he was ok with that.

He would happily take anything he was given.

And Momo had been so sweet, and endearing. Asking him questions that had admittedly been painful, like why he lived alone. Telling him about herself, and her family, and why she'd always wanted to know him...why she thought they should always be friends.

They had spoken in German, both of them beaming the entire time. Although Momiji was fluent, it wasn't often that he had opportunities to speak it with anyone other than his father or his tutor, and listening to Momo's accent, he had been sweetly but painfully reminded of their mother.

'Did your parents speak German, too, Momiji?'

It had been painful, telling her the 'truth.'

'Ja, they did. But I lost them, when I was a little boy, so now...I am glad to have the chance to speak it again, with you.'

She didn't speak Japanese with an accent, Momiji had observed. Although she looked so much like her mother, her Japanese accent was pure and clean, that of a native speaker. In that, she sounded far more Japanese than him. But then, he doubted she'd felt the same compulsion to tie herself closer to their mother that he had.

To tie herself closer to them all.

It had been a wonderful meeting, one that had ended far more brilliantly than he could have ever imagined.

'I know it's silly, Momiji, and it's ok if you say no, really...but I always wanted a big brother. Always. And I've always imagined...it was you. So while I'll always want to be your friend, what I really want...is for you to be my brother.'

He had been overwhelmed, feeling rather than knowing that he was crying as he'd hugged her. All she'd ever wanted...and all he'd ever wanted...were one and the same.

'There is nothing sweeter or more wonderful you could offer, Momo. Ja...I will be your brother. I will always be your brother, and that is a promise.'

A promise he would always be able to keep.


Momo was a bright, brilliant star; the happiest and most shining moment in his life was not the moment that the Curse broke, but the moment she asked him to be her brother. Spending time with her made him happy in a way he'd only dreamed of, and the vindication he felt on behalf of both of them was strong. Koshiro had wanted to keep them apart...had spent a decade fighting it...but it had been wrong. They had always been connected, always been brother and sister. And while Momo might not know just how real that relationship was, she considered him her brother, and that was enough.

It had to be enough.


Momiji didn't know what he'd expected, or what he had hoped would happen when the Curse broke. He'd told Akito that he knew it didn't guarantee anything, that he knew it didn't mean he could suddenly have a family. That it would automatically mean happiness. But he had meant it, when he said he would look for that happiness, and that somehow, he would find it.

He had never expected it would be so hard.

He knew he should have been grateful. He was free...and so were all the others. None of them were bound anymore; for the first time in their lives, they could truly live their lives and consider their futures on their own terms. Whatever they wanted for themselves, they could grab for, and all around him, the other former Zodiacs were.

Momiji saw Hatori, taking on shifts at the hospital instead of just working within the estate. Kureno, leaving the estate, and the family, entirely. Yuki, throwing himself into his studies in preparation to take university entrance exams in Kyoto. Kyo, practicing and planning for his move to Aomori...

Falling in love with Tohru had been the most natural thing in the world, as well as the most painful. She had become so dear so quickly, it was perhaps inevitable that Momiji would come to see her as something more. She had been the most wonderful thing in his life; a person truly beautiful, inside and out. Who listened to him, and supported him, and encouraged him. Who he had always loved talking to, and always loved spending time with. Who he had always loved, and who had always loved him...

As a friend.

'I mean, you know, right?'

Everyone had known, for so very long. Everyone except for Tohru and Kyo themselves had seen the way the two of them looked at each other...and everyone had pitied them. After all, he was the Cat; there was no way they'd ever be allowed to be together.

But even so, Momiji had been unable to sit back and leave things as they were. He loved Tohru...and Tohru loved Kyo. Who loved her back, but wasn't saying anything. And by not saying anything, Kyo was setting both of them up for even more pain, and even more disappointment.

'I mean, you know, right?'

Momiji couldn't believe his audacity...or maybe it was masochism. Whatever it was, it hurt; hurt to admit his feelings out loud, hurt to see Kyo's reaction. But he needed Kyo to understand that it wasn't just about him, it was also about Tohru; if Kyo could know that she loved him and let that love pass by, if he could truly be ok watching Tohru move on and fall in love with someone else, then he deserved to know that there was at least one other man who already loved her.

Momiji didn't flatter himself that he'd played any significant role in Tohru and Kyo getting together, a little later down the road. But that night, after talking to Kyo, as Momiji had paced in his room and soundly chastised himself for putting his feelings out there to Kyo...Momiji's Curse had broken.

Whatever Momiji's confession had done for Kyo, it had done a great deal more for Momiji.

And he tried to be grateful for that, as the subsequent months passed by. He was free, and then they all were free. And Tohru...was happy.

With Kyo.

Momiji had tried to convince himself he was ok with that. That he was content with things the way they were, where he and Tohru were simply excellent friends. That it didn't hurt to see the two of them together, the way they became increasingly affectionate the closer they got to graduation. That it didn't hurt, to hear them make their plans for a life together, so very far away. She was happy, and Momiji himself could rejoice in that happiness, knowing that somewhere out there he was sure to find his own.

Eventually.

Somehow.

With the Curse gone, Momiji had more freedom than ever before. And with that freedom, he was determined to seek out and find his own happiness. He might not have a sweetheart yet, but that didn't mean he couldn't find one. Just like he could find a future for himself, doing something he loved.


'Of course, Momiji, I'll be happy to write you a recommendation. You're incredibly talented, and you deserve it. But...'

After the Curse broke, Momiji was no longer restricted on what activities he could do, no more than any of them were. Suddenly, they could join extracurriculars, including coed extracurriculars. Before now, all of the former Zodiacs had been limited; they could have private tutors, or participate in Sohma-run activities, like the karate dojo, and that was all. But now...

Momiji had been excited by the prospect of finally playing in a group again. Music was mandatory in middle school, and he had enjoyed the class orchestra, but that had been all he was allowed; even though he'd gone to an all-boys middle school, he'd still been denied permission to join the actual orchestra. And once he started high school, all he'd had were his private lessons...until his father had taken his instructor, to give instead to Momo.

There had been a time where Momiji's practicing had slipped after that, but after learning Momo was taking violin because of him he'd thrown himself back into his studies. His father had eventually found him a new teacher, and Momiji had worked hard. Then, once the Curse broke, he had wanted to join the orchestra.

'I'm sorry, Sohma, but we don't take on new students midway through the year. You're welcome to audition in the spring, when we're seating for next year.'

The rejection from Kaibara High's orchestra instructor had stung, but he understood. He wasn't special, after all; he might have been playing for years under a top teacher, but that didn't mean the rules could or should be bent for him. A community youth orchestra might be a better fit.

'I'm sorry, Mr. Sohma, but you have no group experience beyond classroom study? I'm afraid that at this time, you're not qualified.'

One by one, the doors closed. Momiji's violin teacher had been sympathetic, and had happily written Momiji recommendations and reached out to connections to try and help Momiji get at least his foot in the door...but the answers were always the same. Either it was the wrong time of year for new members and he'd have to wait until the following spring to try out, or else he didn't have the experience necessary. He might be a brilliant solo violinist, but a lifetime of playing alone meant that he was woefully behind his same-age peers when it came to getting practical experience in an orchestra.

It wasn't all bleak; he was able to join a small string ensemble, and that had been a joy. But in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think how deeply unfair it all was; he was finally able to pursue his dreams...only to be told that he was too late. He had missed his window.

It was over.

That wasn't what Sensei Kikuchi said to him, not in so many words. He was much more polite, and much more delicate; full of praise for Momiji and his skill, for Momiji and his discipline. But he'd also been honest.

'You are talented, yes, Momiji, but the competition for musical careers, especially as a violinist, is fierce. You're at an extreme disadvantage by never joining an orchestra or musical group before this year; while I feel your talent could likely land you an orchestra seat next spring if you audition, I'm afraid that it might be too little too late in terms of getting into a conservatory or university orchestra program, and you'll be handicapped compared to all of your like-minded peers. Obviously there are other options besides being a professional; you could pursue music teaching, or private instruction, among other things. And it's still possible that you could succeed as a professional violinist. But it was always going to be an uphill battle, and I would strongly recommend you consider some alternatives in case that doesn't work out.'

It had been crushing. And as Tohru, Kyo, and Yuki's graduation had approached and Momiji had prepared to start his third year of high school, Momiji had started to realize how very complicated and unfair life could be.

He had always wanted to be a concert violinist. He was good; objectively, he knew he was good. But being good...especially good as a soloist...wasn't enough.

He might be freed from the Curse, but in his case, it was too late. He could never get back the time he had lost, and even if he did join an orchestra his third year, he also would have his university entrance exams to prepare for. Even music programs would require him to get into the school itself, and while he could still try for a conservatory by throwing himself fully and completely into his music...he knew Sensei Kikuchi was right.

Even in a perfect world, a world where he had started playing in orchestras as a child, trained under the greatest teachers, worked with every advantage, being a professional musician would still have been tough. It was a competitive world, one where every choice and opportunity mattered.

And Momiji had missed too many opportunities.


He had felt like he was living two lives, in the last months of his second year of high school. In one life, he was continuing on as he'd been: smiling and laughing, spending as much time as he could with Tohru. Getting to know Momo. Trying to convince himself, and everyone around him, that he was happy.

Sometimes, for a little while, he'd even succeed.

Then there was the other life. The life where he smiled at Momo and called himself her brother, but couldn't tell her the truth. The life where he held Tohru's hand and smiled at her, only to see Kyo kiss her and feel he was dying inside. The life where he happily accepted every date request that came his way, desperately trying to convince himself that one of the many girls in love with him since his growth spurt could actually be the one who allowed him to move on from Tohru. The life where he was about to be a third-year and had no idea what to do after graduation...

'Have you given any thought for where you want to apply for university, Momiji? You'll be needing permission for campus visits, won't you?'

"Ja, I will, Papa...but I don't know, anymore. I feel as though I don't know anything.'

It had been strangely cathartic, sitting and talking to his father about his struggles. Not all of them, obviously; he had kept everything involving any sort of relationship completely to himself. But he had told his father of his fears and worries about his future, about his prospects. How he'd always thought he knew what he wanted to do, but now found himself reconsidering so close to the end.

Koshiro had listened, and sympathized. Even apologized. And that...had felt nice. But it didn't solve anything.

Not at first.

'You've always been an excellent student, Momiji, and very good with people. Have you ever considered pursuing a degree in business?'

No, he absolutely and completely had not. Not once, in Momiji's entire life, had he given that possibility even a moment's thought. Business was tedious and boring; it meant working long hours, and dealing with figures.

"I know it's nothing like playing the violin but I think you'd be good at it, Momiji, especially at the higher levels. You've always had a knack for working with others, and with your language skills and head for numbers I think you'd be a natural. Why don't you come to the office after school, and shadow me for a bit? Maybe you'll be surprised.'

It still hadn't sounded appealing, but he liked the idea of spending more time with his father. And after graduation, after Tohru was gone...he could use the distraction.

He hadn't expected his father to be right.


It had started out as one afternoon, followed by a second. Then a full week.

Additional days, with additional opportunities. Momiji had been a silent shadow, following Koshiro as he met with his subordinates, conducted meetings, and dealt with problems. He was introduced to many of those subordinates, and when Koshiro was handling something sensitive Momiji would be sent along to see the other departments at work. He learned what the company did, and all the different jobs people performed to make it succeed...and he found, to his shock, that his father was right.

He liked it.

'You see, Momiji? It's just like I told you, you're a natural. Though there is more to it than you've seen; to be able to rise, you have to be willing to be firm, and even to be harsh. You need to be able to make decisions that benefit the company, and that means being smart in your dealings with other companies. Especially if you want to be where I am someday, you need to be ready to deal with admittedly cutthroat behavior.'

To be where his father was...

'If you want to do this, Momiji, if you want this future, and you work hard, you will always have a place here, as long as I am in charge. And someday, if you continue to work hard...'

'You know I took this company over from my father, Momiji. If this is something you want...something you are willing to work towards...someday, this could be yours, too.'

His. His grandfather's, then his father's...then his.

There had been so much soul-searching, so many questions asked. He had enjoyed his time shadowing, enjoyed learning what made the company tick. He knew he would never want to be sitting down in the accounting department, but watching what his father did, watching what the other managers and vice presidents did...

'I want to do it, Papa. I want to pursue business. I'm not going to give up my violin...but I want this. I want to work with you, someday. And I'll work hard, to make you proud.'

Whatever else he had or didn't have in his life...he could have this. He could have his father, and a future...and he would be happy.

Somehow.


Author's Note: Some backstory, because I always like to know how we get from point A to point B. In Fruits Basket: Another, we learn Momiji is a businessman, which always felt strange to me considering in his second year of high school in canon, he told Tohru he wanted to be a professional violinist. I wanted to figure out a plausible way Momiji got there, without having him bomb as a violinist.