As always, please tell me what you think.

"Look, there he is!"

"Hey Sohma!"

As the surname could have referred to a number of people passing, Momiji didn't look over until a high-pitched voice called him directly.

"Momiji!"

Anii was dragging Jien towards him. For a second Momiji was about to ask what the two of them were doing outside the family compound, until he saw the dojo over Jien's shoulder and remembered introducing him to the classes.

"Hi Anii," Momiji said, somewhat warily, but still with a smile, as they reached him. "Jien."

"We want to talk to you," stated Anii, with such a serious expression it was cute.

"We?" Momiji glanced at Jien. He seemed to be altering between glaring daggers at Momiji and ignoring him.

"Yes." Anii tugged on Jien's hand. "Jien's just being grumpy."

"I am not," Jien said through clenched teeth. "I just think that the choice has obviously been made, and there's been enough pain."

"Which is why we should talk to Momiji." Anii turned back to face Momiji. "Namie can't sleep anymore. Again."

Momiji squashed a guilty squirm. "So?"

"We know you used to call her at night and then she would sleep better. Now she's really tired all the time and she's started having nightmares again."

That gave him another pang. "Really?"

Anii nodded solemnly. "She wakes up screaming."

Momiji sighed. "Look, I didn't do anything. I just called her 'cause it was fun to talk. I don't know why it made her sleep better."

"Because it made her feel happy and safe, you idiot," Jien answered. "Come on Anii, he's not going to listen."

"Hey!" Momiji began indignantly, without a clear idea of what he was indignant about or what he was going to say next.

Jien held up a hand to stop him and leveled his gaze at Momiji.

"Look, do whatever the hell you want. But a warning, break Namie's heart again, and I'll break your face."

Momiji blinked. "Her heart? But… I… I didn't realize—"

"Well, now you know," Jien cut across him matter-of-factly.

"You don't have to be her boyfriend if you don't want to, Momiji," added Anii. "She just needs a regular friend."

Momiji's mind was reeling. He shook his head, trying to make sense of this new information and said the only reasonable thing he could think of. "How? She's really mad at me. Any attempt to help now will seem like charity to her."

Jien shrugged. "That's your problem. Convince her it's not."

"Based on the fact her siblings are begging me to, it kind of is."

"That depends," Jien said dismissively, taking Anii's hand to lead her away.

"On what?" Momiji cried.

Jien turned back over his shoulder to level his gaze at Momiji. With the barest quirk of his eyebrow, he replied, "On whether or not you were already planning on talking to her. Or were you really going to just let her slip away? Come on Anii." And without waiting for an answer, Jien pulled Anii away, leaving Momiji alone with his thoughts.

OOO

"Hi."

Namie looked up from her homework spread out on the library table. In a moment of déjà vu, she saw Momiji standing beside her. Namie looked back down.

"I have to talk to you."

"Because it went so well the last time."

"That's why maybe we should try again."

"I don't really have much else to say."

"Can I tell you a story at least?"

That threw her. "A story?" Namie looked up at him, frowning. "What about?"

"A family. It probably doesn't make any sense but just hear me out."

There was a moment of silence. "Well go on then," Namie finally said, leaning back to watch him.

With a deep breath, Momiji started to talk. "So, once upon a time I guess, there was this family. And they had a curse on them. Whenever someone of the opposite sex…"

The words tumbled out, one after another. No names, no specifics, just the general story of what happened. Who knew if any of it made sense but Momiji found himself unable to stop. The story had been bottled up inside for so long, finally letting it out felt like a dam breaking. Namie made no comments, but she listened to the whole thing intently. When Momiji finally spluttered to an abrupt halt, running out of things to tell at the ending of the curse, she sighed and leaned forward again.

"Well," she said softly. "I don't know if I really understand the meaning, but that's quite a story." There was a long pause before her gaze flicked up to him once more.

"Why are you even bothering to talk to me Momiji?"

It was the same question as before, but this time Momiji answered with the truth. "Because you're nice and funny and smart and great to talk to and I like… I like being friends with you. And I think you like being friends with me. And I miss hanging out and talking and just seeing you, and I want us to be like that again.

Namie sized him up.

"And I'm sorry," Momiji added earnestly. "What I said wasn't fair, or really true."

She focuses on her clasped hands, then back up on Momiji. "I'm sorry too. I should know better than anyone not to push you if you don't want it."

Momiji pursed his lips and shuffled his feet. They looked at each other for a moment. For once, the pair that had been able to talk for hours couldn't think of what to say next.

"Do you want to sit down?" Namie said finally, raising an eyebrow. "Or are you just going to stand there until the bell rings?"

With a laugh, Momiji sank gratefully into the chair opposite her. He watched Namie go back to her papers, then frowned, peering more closely. Something was off in her face. "Your eyes look different."

Namie didn't look up but her voice was conversational. "The bags are coming back."

"Ah," Momiji nodded. "They're still lighter than when I first met you though." He cocked his head examining them. "Your eyes look greener when there are no bags."

Those green eyes flicked up to appraise him curiously. "Thank you," Namie said lightly.

When the bell rang, Momiji stood to silently help her gather the papers and books together. And Namie, equally as silently, let him.

OOO

That night, Momiji reached for his phone, then paused. They seemed to have made up but for the rest of the day their conversation had still been a little stilted. He didn't know if Namie would want him to call, or if would be awkward.

At that moment, the phone buzzed in his hand. He flipped it open quickly.

"Hi," the familiar voice on the other line side.

Momiji felt a genuine smile spread across his face as he relaxed into routine. "Hi Namie! I was just about to call you…"

Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya.