Author's Note: And here is Chapter 1. I'm currently working on Chapter 2, and I would love to hear from anyone who may be reading this :). Writing realistic fiction is a little different from my usual fantasy/science-fiction ventures, so I hope I'm doing all right.

Chapter 1

"Smile, what's the use of crying"—Nat King Cole.

The 6:00 am train into Kyoto wasn't particularly crowded, but he chose to call a taxi to take him into Maizuru and straight to Kyo and Tohru's house instead of catching a connecting train. The trip was much too short, in Yuki's opinion. He hadn't had time to collect his thoughts. His boss wasn't happy with him using his vacation time on such short notice, but as Yuki hadn't taken a single day off since he'd started with the agency he could hardly be denied. Yuki wasn't working with any important accounts that couldn't be given to another representative. In college, Yuki had discovered a love of math and economics. He loved the art of making money for other people and watching it grow. After graduating at the top of his class, he was immediately hired at a stock broking agency.

Kakeru called him a nerd, but Yuki was a nerd who hadn't had to touch his Sohma funds since his first pay check. His ultimate goals of living on his own and depending on only himself were met. Yuki rested his head against the glass of the cab's window and stared out at tourist-centered Maizuru. It was beautiful, but not as heavily populated in the early spring as it was in the summer when foreign tourists came to visit the bay and museums and parks. Tohru could not have picked a better place to run a bakery. Her little shop was near the Navel Museum. Tohru used to ask Yuki for financial advice. The shop made wonderful profits, so wonderful that Yuki suggested that she consider branching out and opening another bakery.

Yuki smiled lightly. Tohru was so happy, but Tohru could be happy about anything. She really was a refreshing little flower, as Shigure often put it. He bit his lip as his eyes began to sting again. He'd cried enough in his apartment. Tohru and Kyo didn't need his tears.

The ride was smooth and uneventful. When the taxi reached Kyo and Tohru's home in the outskirts of Maizuru, Yuki had gotten himself together. His eyes were dry, but he felt like he had a big rock in his chest. He swallowed several times as the rock tried to rise.

Yuki paid the taxi driver, giving him a hefty tip after the man assisted him in getting his two suitcases out of the cab's trunk. The small garden in front of the house was beginning to show signs of life as the plants recovered from their winter break, and the lawn was well-kempt. Taking care of Tohru had not affected Kyo's ability to maintain their home. Yuki admired and inspected the tidy front porch with its fresh blue and white paint, and the clean gutters of the house. The cottage was cozy and European in appearance, not large as it only contained three bedrooms, but by no means a poor man's dwelling. Yuki passed the garage, walking to the storybook picket fence and opening it.

Yuki would never leave his gate open in Tokyo, where he lived, nor would he ever leave a key to his home lying around where anyone could get it. It must have been nice to live in such a place. He spotted an old man out walking his miniature Akita. The man waved at Yuki as he past, instead of eyeing him suspiciously for being in his neighbor's yard obviously poking around for a spare key.

Yuki found the key in the old flower pot and slipped it into the simple lock. The door came open easily and Yuki stepped inside. The house was warm and smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread. When Yuki opened a few curtains to let in some sunlight, he spied several loaves of bread cooling on the kitchen counter. He wondered who'd baked the bread. A neighbor could have brought it over, but this kitchen had the feel of a place recently used. There was a light dusting of white flour on the pale oak countertop surrounding the fresh loaves. Yuki smiled, this room had changed since he'd last seen it. It looked like Tohru had finally gotten Kyo to agree with refurbishing the kitchen. The cottage had been well-lived in before Kyo and Tohru had moved in, and all of the fixtures and wirings had been dated. Now, the kitchen was a blend of light brown and crème colored woods and glass paneled cabinets that held multicolored plates and cups as well as racks and shelves for spices and glass jars of fresh ingredients. Ceramic cats, roosters, rabbits, mice, and dogs decorated corners and spare space.

The kitchen table was a small crème colored rectangle with 6 chairs around it. The top might have had a storybook design, but Yuki couldn't tell due to the number of cook books and food magazines spread over it. There were also a few open notebooks with Kyo's scratchy handwriting and doodles on them. It looked like inventory and notes to himself.

Yuki swallowed as he saw official documents with the logo of a local hospital at the top. If he squinted he could make out Tohru's name and Kyo's in places. There were signatures and dollar amounts. Yuki set his suitcases on the floor by the table and took off his shoes, placing them by the door.

Perhaps he could take his things to one of the guest bedrooms, but…. What if things had been moved around? Tohru was ill, had been ill for a year. Maybe there was medical equipment in the house. He pictured a bedroom full of IV poles and dresser laden with wigs and wig stands and scarves.

Oh, Tohru. Yuki didn't even know what she looked like. Was she sickly thin? Was she bald, or pale and gaunt? Would she be happy to see Yuki or would she cringe away from him, not wanting him to see her that way? His hands shook and he gripped the ridged wooden back of a kitchen chair. He didn't want to see her that way. But this wasn't about what he wanted. He took a deep breath in and let it out. It was easy to do since the house smelled so good; it smelled fresh, light and warm. If coming home had a smell, it would be this.

Yuki pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and hit speed dial for Tohru. The trip from Tokyo to Maizuru wasn't epic so Kyo should be expecting his call about then, if he truly believed Yuki had taken the first train out.

"Hello?" Yuki blinked. Kyo sounded much better than he had that morning, almost normal.

"Kyo, it's Yuki. I'm here."

"Oh—you really came." Kyo was silent for a moment and Yuki had a slight sinking sensation in his stomach. Had Kyo thought Yuki wouldn't come after he'd said Tohru was dying—after he'd cried like that?

"Of course I came, you stupid Cat. I'm in your house right now."

Kyo chuckled lightly. "All right, I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm just a few houses down dropping something off. Make yourself at home and don't mess with the bread on the counter."

Yuki waited for it.

"Damn Rat."

He smiled. "Oh, you mean the bread I already cut a slice of. It's delicious by the way. I'm going through the fridge now to look for some butter and jam."

"You better be kidding. Be right there." Kyo disconnected and Yuki smirked, teasing Kyo, no matter how old they got, was still fun.

Yuki took a seat in the chair and thumbed through a French pastry cook book. How many of these had Tohru actually made? Yuki sincerely missed her cooking almost as much as he missed sharing a home with her. He still couldn't cook, but he'd at least gotten better at preparing instant meals without burning them. Machi was pretty hopeless in the kitchen as well. His future mother-in-law was sure they'd both starve in their first year of marriage or get fat due to constant abuse of take-out menus. Yuki had even tried taking a cooking class; he'd never failed anything in his life and had dropped out before the teacher could kick him out of the pass or fail course.

His lavender eyes fell on the hospital documents and notebooks again. He stretched long fingers toward them, and froze when he heard the click of the front door opening. Keys rattled and the door closed gently. Footsteps came toward the kitchen. Yuki smiled as Kyo entered and rose to his feet. His red head cousin was a few inches taller than him and a bit broader in the shoulders, but he was still slimly muscled and compact. With his constant workouts, Yuki figured Kyo should have beefed up like Master Kazuma, but he guessed it wasn't in his genes. Kyo's bastard of a father wasn't a thick man either, though the last time Yuki had seen him his stomach area was running to fat, a true beer gut.

Kyo's crimson eyes were tired but pleased to see Yuki. They smiled more than his mouth did beneath a shaggy layer of orange bangs. Kyo crossed the room in a few steps to wrap Yuki in a quick man-hug, where he pulled Yuki close and tight for a second, patted him on the back, then pushed him away.

"Yo. You look all, professional, Rat-face." Kyo looked him up and down and placed a hand on his back pocket with a smirk. "No need to dress up on account of us commoners."

Yuki laughed. He wore grey slacks and a light blue, button-down shirt. The look was semi-casual for him, but next to Kyo, who lived in jeans and t-shirts, Yuki supposed he always seemed formal. "Yes, I forgot who I was coming to see, sorry."

He reached out to tug at the ponytail Kyo was sporting. The thick red tail curled at the base of his neck, strands of it escaping and framing his jaw line. The look worked for him, but it would take a little while to get used to a Kyo with a ponytail. "Are you copying Master Kazuma?"

Kyo shrugged, fingering his hair. "Ah… well, actually." Kyo shifted from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable. His eyes were brighter when they met Yuki's. "Some of the medicine made Tohru's hair fall out. She cut it short when it first started coming out. You know how she loves to wear her hair long. But, she said one of us has to have long hair; it's the only way our couple-look works, you know? And since she didn't know when… well, when she'd be able to start growing hers again, I can't cut mine."

Kyo cleared his throat and moved to the cabinets, pulling down large Tupperware containers. He set them beside the bread and went to wash his hands. As he lathered the soap on his hands into a soft green foam, he spoke, "I'm going to the hospital after I take the bread to The Rice Ball. Do you want to come?"

To the hospital—to see a short-haired Tohru.

Yuki ran a hand through his ash-colored locks and nodded. He'd come to be with Tohru, and not to see her now would be a sign of cowardice. Kyo dealt with it every day and Kyo was not stronger than Yuki, no matter how much he argued that he was. Yuki looked back at his suitcase, then at Kyo who was wrapping bread in colorful plastic wrap with smiley faces on it—Tohru must have picked that out—and putting them into the Tupperware.

"Um… So, who made the bread?"

Kyo shot a look at Yuki through his bangs. "There's nobody here but you and me, Rat, and last time I checked you can burn water. Who do you think made it?"

Yuki stared. "You bake bread? You bake?"

Kyo rolled his eyes. "Don't start labeling me as a housewife or an apron-wearing girly man or anything dumb like that. I don't even wear an apron; I just get my clothes all dirty." For the first time, Yuki noticed the flour on Kyo's t-shirt and on the thighs of his jeans. "It's Tohru's thing, for The Rice Ball. She always wants to add new stuff to the menu, and she's been studying different cuisines. She'd make new stuff and try it out on the neighbors and take a few samples to the bakery to let people taste it on Wednesday mornings. She calls it Experimental Wednesday. She likes to be consistent; you know how she is, always thinking the world's depending on her. So, when she can't make her experiments, she picks out what she'd like to try and I do it." Kyo shrugged. "It's important to her, and I don't mind it. It's kind of relaxing."

Kyo's voice was soft, his fingers diligent and skillful as he sealed the bread boxes, as if he were handling precious goods, Tohru's goods. How many mornings did Kyo spend alone in this kitchen baking goods for Tohru's bakery? How much time did he spend alone period? Yuki would have figured that Kyo would spend the majority of his time at the hospital, but the house and yard maintenance and regular baking said otherwise.

Tohru would insist on Kyo not sticking around the hospital all time, wouldn't she? How often was she alone, too, then? Tohru, you should have let your friends help you. Kyo, you should have called sooner.

"Kyo?"

"Hm?" Kyo slid the baked goods into a cloth grocery bag and tossed the strap over his shoulder.

"When were you guys ever going to tell anyone what was going on-I mean, after you found out that she—she's not going to get better?" Had they planned on anyone but Kyo getting to say goodbye? The sting of tears building behind his eyes made his vision blurry. It wasn't fair; what they'd done was terrible. It made Yuki hurt inside for not noticing something was wrong on his own. He was terrible.

Kyo didn't meet his eyes. He shuffled to where Yuki stood, a muscle near his mouth twitching. "We were… she wanted to wait until she was home and situated. She's on meds right now, and they make her a little loopy. She told the docs that she doesn't want to die half aware of what's going on around her. She wanted you guys to come when she was off the drugs and clear-headed, more Tohru, I guess. That's—well, that's how she put it."

Yuki frowned. "Loopy?"

"We've been through surgeries, radiation and chemo, Yuki. She's—she's hurting and so sick all the time. Some days, some days she doesn't even know I'm there. She doesn't want anyone seeing her like that. If she had her way, she would probably send me away, too. Stupid woman."

Kyo's posture was stooped, all vitality seeming to leave him as he spoke. He never looked up at Yuki who stood inches from him. Yuki couldn't believe his tough cousin was shrinking before his eyes. Kyo was one to let things sit inside and fester until he exploded, but he couldn't explode while Tohru needed him—at least not in front of Tohru.

"This morning-this morning was a bad morning. I…." Kyo wrung his hands together, still looking at his feet. "It was just a really bad morning."

Yuki swallowed convulsively. Do not cry Yuki Sohma. He reached out and touched Kyo's shoulder, squeezing it tight. "You were right to call."

Sometimes Yuki marveled at himself and how much he had changed from how he had been in grade school. It used to be so hard to relate to people and offer them comfort. While he was still no social butterfly, he had friends from university and a few work buddies he went out with on occasion. He even entertained on weekends when Machi came to spend extended time with him.

"I don't know how Tohru will feel about this. You know she'd never say anything if she's upset. I don't want to upset her." Kyo suddenly set his bread bag down and sat hard in the chair Yuki had vacated. "She doesn't need me stressing her out on top of everything." He rubbed his eyes; the white gold wedding band on his finger caught Yuki's eye. It was simple and pure as was Tohru's, a symbol of their relationship—it was beautiful and unspoiled by flashy diamonds and intricate designs. It was what it was.

Yuki wondered if people would say that about his and Machi's relationship. Ayame always told him that Machi was a gem, but had always thought Yuki would have been the one to marry Tohru. He had moaned and sighed about having to redesign the wedding with Machi at its center instead of Tohru, but oh, it would be grand. Yuki hoped Machi wouldn't mind eloping abroad, because he feared Ayame might have them both in white wedding gowns at the altar.

Yuki sat in the chair across from Kyo, turning it so that one of his knees touched Kyo's. "No, maybe she doesn't, but she also doesn't need you collapsing on her because you're dealing with too much alone. She's got you to lean on, but who have you got?"

Had Tohru thought about that? Not that Yuki was angry at her. How could anyone ever be angry at Tohru-but what about Kyo? He wasn't the best when it came to handling emotions.

Kyo shrugged, his eyes finally coming up to meet Yuki's. They were still bright, and wetness leaked from them. "Her doctor gave her a month. She said-she said we could try more treatments, experimental ones, but… she'd be like a damn guinea pig, Yuki. They don't know if any of that stuff will work, and it would probably just end up eating her up, and she's so small already. I don't want her to give up, but if it means she doesn't have to hurt anymore, then…." Kyo covered his eyes. "It's her choice."

Yuki sat in silence as Kyo's shoulders trembled, keeping his knee pressed against his cousin's.

"I guess we'd better go, or I'll be late. I usually get there after she's had breakfast and bring her whatever it is we decided I should make, whether it turned out good or bad."

Yuki tried to smile; it was wobbly and faded after a second. "You've had cooking disasters?"

Kyo chuckled weakly. "Have you ever tried working with yeast? It's like a living Play-Doh monster. I thought the oven was gonna blow up."

Yuki saw an image of Kyo covered in bread dough and battling a growing loaf coming out of a flaming oven with a spatula and a rolling pin. He laughed out loud. "I wish you'd made a video of that. I'd put it on YouTube."

Kyo slugged his shoulder half-heartedly. "Damn Rat."

"Stupid Cat."

They sat for a moment, watching each other. Kyo's eyes were dry and he rubbed all traces of tears off his cheeks with a fist. "We'd uh…better go. Hey, this will be your first time visiting The Rice Ball since Tohru took over and renamed it, huh? It's kinda girly, but pretty neat once you get passed the curtains and table clothes. We set up some internet terminals in back, and got Wi-Fi, so we get a lot of students."

Kyo rose with his bread and jerked his head toward the door. "Come on, unless you're scared of my driving."

"I am scared, but what can I do if you're my only ride," Yuki said with a shrug. He patted his back pocket to be sure that he had his wallet and followed Kyo through the back door.

Cole, Nat King. "Smile." The Very Best of Nat King Cole. Capitol, 2006. CD.

Author's Note: Well, what's the verdict? Liked it? Hated it? Don't care either way? Well, any way you liked it, let me know! Please review :).