Author's Note: Okay, so this chapter was originally 27 pages long, but I ended breaking it into two chapters. So, that means the story has one more extra chapter than what I had planned for. Good news is, it's already written, I just have to read back through it again. So, my next update will be soon. This story has exactly 3 more chapters, one of which is already written, and an epilogue to go :). Yay me!

Thank you for reviewing and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 14

"The feeling's gone. There's nothing left to lift me up"—3 Doors Down.

A silly drama based on a manga series was on. The small flat screen TV Master Kazuma brought into the guestroom sat on a low vanity dresser; the soft flickering light was sort of soothing in the darkness of the room. Yuki sat propped up on the bed, pretending to read a book Mayu-sensei had left behind. It was different to be in a room lightly personalized with Hatori and Mayu-sensei's things, but the room Yuki stayed in with Machi was too messy and Kyo would not go anywhere near his own room.

Yuki turned a page in the novel and glanced over at Kyo. His cousin laid flat on his back, shadowed eyes closed. An IV trickled a saline solution into Kyo's body, replenishing the fluids he couldn't drink without gagging. After Kyo's collapse at the crematorium, they'd come straight home. Kyo had been so out of it, but he made one thing clear: he was not going to a hospital. Hatori hadn't argued with him, but when the crematorium called two hours later for them to collect Tohru's ashes, Kyo was not allowed to go.

Ayame, Mine, Shigure, Akito, Hanajima, and, surprisingly, Arisa went back to the crematorium to remove Tohru's bones from ashes and place them into the burial urn. The rest of the family went on to the grave site in Tokyo where Tohru's mother was buried. The others would follow with the urn. Master Kazuma had wanted to stay behind but Kyo insisted that he go. Kyo had insisted that Yuki go, too, but Yuki wouldn't budge.

"You think they put what's left of her in the ground yet?"

Yuki jumped at the rusty sound of Kyo's voice. "I don't know, probably. They've been gone a while."

Kyo shuddered. "It's got to be cold, you know, in the ground. I know she's not in there, that's she's gone, but I still thinking about it. She looked like Tohru in that box, like she could wake up, like there was a mistake, but once we sent her up in flames there was no going back." He gave a humorless laugh. "What if we burned her alive? When I fell…in there…in that place where we burned her up… I kept hearing her scream. It's gone now, though. I don't hear anything."

Yuki dropped the book, staring at Kyo in horror. "Kyo, she wasn't screaming."

"You wouldn't hear it. You weren't connected to her like I was. I could always tell when she needed me. It was like a sixth sense, and now it's gone. Just gone." Kyo continued to shudder, his chest rising and falling like he was running a race.

"No, Kyo, she wasn't screaming at all. No, I wasn't connected to her like you, but I can tell you that Tohru was not in that box. If she was in the room at all, she was standing next to you, not being burned."

"You think?" Kyo asked, voice cracking. "Because I didn't feel her next to me." His eyes opened; his gaze desperate. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. "It's so funny how I only knew her for seven years—that seems so short a time—seven years out of twenty-three. I lived for fifteen years before I knew her, but I don't remember how I did. Guess I have to figure it out, huh?"

Yuki placed a hand on Kyo's brow and massed his temples with the pads of his thumb and pinky finger. "It doesn't feel like it now, but it's gotta get better."

Kyo closed his eyes again and Yuki pulled his hand away. He touched Mayu-sensei's book, but didn't pick it back up. There was a slight knock on the door before Hatori opened it and came inside with a tray. Two bowls of soup, a plate of crackers and two steaming mugs of tea sat atop it. Hatori set the tray on the bedside table closest to Kyo.

"Shigure called and let me know that everything is going fine. They've reached the grave site and the grave has been opened. He says the engraving on the tombstone is elegant and the white birds look beautiful."

Yuki nodded. "That's great, Hatori."

"Are you still cold, Kyo?" Hatori perched beside Kyo, lifting his wrist and timing his pulse. He frowned. "Can you sit up?"

Kyo barely opened his eyes for him. "I'm not going to any hospital, Hatori."

"I wasn't going to suggest that," Hatori said. "I can care for you right here. I'm just worried about you. Now, will you sit up? I want you to try to eat something."

Kyo rolled onto his side, away from Hatori and facing Yuki. "Not today."

"Kyo, there's only so much an IV can do for you."

"So?" Kyo's voice was barely audible.

"Okay," Hatori said, keeping his voice soft. "I'm not going to push it tonight, but tomorrow you're going to have to eat, even if it's just a little bit." He rubbed Kyo's back, his eyes as heavy as Yuki had ever seen them with sadness, but Yuki didn't think that sadness was grief for Tohru.

Kyo stared at a blank point on the wall and didn't reply to Hatori. Yuki cleared his throat. "What kind of soup did you bring, Hatori?"

Hatori blinked at Yuki. "Oh, just a simple broth. I'm not the chef Kyo is, and I didn't think anything fancier would sit too well anyway."

"Sounds good." Yuki slid off the bed and approached the tray. He took one of the bowls and sat down in one of the armchairs by the window. He ate and looked at the flickering TV screen without watching.

Hatori sipped from the other bowl, his eyes on Kyo's back.

"Do we have any plans for tomorrow?" Yuki asked.

"Just seeing family off at the train station; the only people staying, it seems, are Ayame and Kazuma," Hatori said.

"And Machi," Yuki said. "She's not leaving for a few days. She e-mailed her professors and told them there was a death in the family."

"She's a very nice girl, Yuki," Hatori said.

"Yeah." He didn't want to talk about his relationship in front of Kyo. He finished his soup. "Do you need me to help you set up for when everyone gets back?"

Hatori took another sip of soup and shook his head. "Ayame and Mine pretty much did everything and the kids from the bakery are coming in an hour with food. I'll let them in when they get here."

So there was nothing left to do but stare at each other.

"How long do you plan to stay, in Maizuru I mean?" Yuki asked Hatori.

Hatori sighed. "For as long as I'm wanted. There are some things that I can help with."

There were a lot of things that he could help with. "Ayame said he could only stay another week."

"He's opened up a second store. He's been busy," Hatori said. "But he's got good help."

Yuki smiled. "And mother and father thought he'd never amount to anything."

Hatori chuckled. "They were wrong about the both of you." He set down his soup and drank some tea. "When's the last time you've spoken to either of them?"

Yuki scratched his head as he thought about the last time he'd spoken to his parents. "It was a long time ago, Hatori. I think I may have spoken to mother sometime during my sophomore year of college. She didn't like my major, and father hasn't spoken to me since high school because of the university I chose. I don't suppose I'll see either of them at my wedding either, since mother doesn't like Machi."

Hatori shook his head. "This is off the record, but I've never liked your parents."

"I can't say that I dislike them; they're my parents, but I'm just okay with the fact that we'll never be close," Yuki said. "I'm glad for who I am close to."

"It's good to see you and Ayame acting so brotherly," Hatori said. "He wanted it so badly. He used to call Shigure and me in tears on some days."

Yuki felt a small pang in his chest. Ayame had cried over Yuki?

"He almost gave up a few times, but I always told him to keep trying, eventually everyone always gives in to him, even if it's just to make him quiet," Hatori said with a smirk.

Yuki laughed. "I just needed to know that he really cared. I think I didn't really understand that he did until he showed up at a parent-teacher conference and drove mother absolutely mad. He was a new person to me after that."

"That conference, I had to hear about it from him and Mayu so many times," Hatori said.

"It was pretty funny," Yuki said. "I'll never forget the look on mother's face."

"When Ayame burst through the door?"

"No, when I corrected her. She'd said Ayame was useless, and I told her that he wasn't. It was like watching a dish break. Then Ayame ruined the whole moment by texting you."

Hatori snorted. "His text messages go on for pages."

Yuki nodded. "That's my brother. He's going to design my wedding dress."

"Oh, so you've finally resigned yourself to that fate?" Hatori asked. "Good, because it is inevitable."

"It's sad that everyone knows I'm doomed to wear a white dress," Yuki said. "There will be no pictures."

Hatori chuckled.

"Take pictures."

Yuki glanced at the bed. Kyo was still in the same position. "Take as many pictures as you can of everything you do, every moment. You don't want to forget anything."

"Yes, of course. I was just joking. I will take plenty of headshots at the wedding," Yuki said.

"And one full shot for the scrapbook," Kyo said. "Keep it hidden, but keep it. You'll be glad you did."

"That's something we'll have to get, a scrapbook," Yuki said. He didn't even know if he had pictures to put in it. Machi might have had a few. They weren't picture people and the maid tossed keepsakes and cards into the waste bin along with the rest of the clutter Yuki's apartment accumulated.

"Start it now," Kyo said. "Silly Rice Ball has like a 100 of those stupid fluffy, lacy things. People think we read a lot when they see those bookshelves. It's all scrapbooks."

"Do you—want to go through them?" Yuki asked tentatively.

"No," Kyo said.

"Okay."

"I'll do it when I pack them up," Kyo said. "This place is gonna take forever to pack up. Maybe I should pay someone to do it."

Yuki felt the soup he'd eaten rise to his throat. "You don't have to hire anyone. I'll help, we'll all help. I think that it should be done by family, and maybe Hanajima and Arisa."

"Right, because there's stuff Tohru wants them to have," Kyo mumbled, "and there are those letters."

Yuki swallowed thinking about the letter for him Tohru had told him about. "Can we talk about this again later, Kyo?"

"'Kay," Kyo breathed.

Yuki took his place on the bed again and Hatori gathered the dishes, piling them on the tray and carrying them back out of the room.

An hour later, the doorbell rang.

"Kyo, do you want to go out there? We can move the IV…."

Silence. Yuki peered at his cousin; his eyes were closed, lashes fluttering, and his breathing was deep and even. Yuki smiled and unrolled a blanket at the foot of the bed. He spread it over Kyo and settled back against a pillow. Kyo had the right idea.

They were done for today.

(~*~)

Kyo slept for 22 hours after the funeral. Hatori shook him awake a few times to assure himself that Kyo hadn't slipped into some sort of sleep deprived coma. Yuki sat at the kitchen table picking at a plate of rice and vegetables. Everything tasted so bland, though he was sure it really wasn't. Neighbors kept bringing food. They showed up in the morning with breakfast and coffee, in the afternoon with lunch and tea, and in the evening with dinner and wine. It was amazing. Each meal came with a note or a flower, something to give to Kyo. Ayame had gotten started on the thank you notes for the condolence cards and monetary gifts. Yuki was going to insist on writing the notes for the food, because Ayame was already doing way too much on his own.

Since yesterday, Ayame had been dealing with real estate agents. Yuki had been surprised; he'd figured Hatori would handle the business of selling the house, not Ayame. What did his big brother know about property value? But, Yuki was still learning not to underestimate his Ayame.

Hatori was handling the bakery business, making sure that it was opening and closing on time, and working on hiring a temporary manager. Master Kazuma put himself in charge of Kyo's dojo and was teaching classes and supervising. Machi had been doing her homework on Yuki's laptop in between making sure he was all right.

Currently, everyone was away: Hatori at the bakery, Master Kazuma at the dojo, Ayame at a real estate agency and Machi at the library. Yuki wasn't used to being left alone, lately. Someone else was always there, but things were calm. There was no reason for constant hovering.

It was strange how everything seemed to be falling into place and getting done, when it all should have been falling apart. Yuki gave up on his lunch and rose with his coffee cup in hand, coming to look out of the kitchen window. He almost smiled at seeing the neighbors out and about, walking dogs, jogging; riding bikes. Kyo had been right. The world didn't stop because one person did. He drank the coffee without tasting it. It wasn't Tohru's coffee, so it wasn't special.

A pair of joggers saw him through the window and waved. He waved back. This would have been a great neighborhood for Kyo and Tohru to raise children. He finished his coffee and placed his empty cup in the sink to wash out for later. Padded feet shuffled into the kitchen at a lazy pace. Yuki looked over his shoulder and spun around immediately. "Kyo, you're up!"

The redhead nodded at him fuzzily and shuffled to the fridge. He pulled out a carton of organic whole milk and drank from it, then pulled out a jug of regular whole milk and set it on the counter. Yuki stepped aside as Kyo rifled through the pantry, and emerged with flour and corn starch. He was going to cook?

Yuki spoke up when the mixing bowls and spoons came out. "Kyo, you're uh… making pancakes?"

"It's Monday, right?" His voice was sleepy.

"Yes, it is," Yuki said.

"Monday is for pancakes," Kyo said. He yawned and started pouring ingredients into the bowl, knowing proper the measurements by sight alone.

It was 2:00 in the afternoon, but if Kyo wanted to make pancakes—if Kyo wanted to do anything—who was Yuki to stop him?

Kyo whipped the batter and heated a skillet, melting a pat of butter in the center and rotating his wrist to cause the butter to slide around the skillet's face. The batter was poured in and soon perfect pancakes were piled onto a plate. Kyo wandered away from the pancakes, shuffling to the blank white board on the fridge. He stared at it for a long time. Yuki cleared his throat to get Kyo's attention.

His cousin was slow to turn around.

"Kyo, are you all right?" Yuki hated asking that question, because of course he wasn't, but it needed to be asked.

Kyo rubbed his eyes. They were dark, puffy caverns in a chalky face. "Who erased the grocery list?"

Yuki came closer to Kyo. His cousin didn't look well at all. "The grocery list? Kyo, there hasn't been a list since last week."

Kyo seemed to blink in slow motion. "You said it was Monday. Tohru should have…" He stopped and frowned as Yuki's eyes went wide. Yuki made it to Kyo in two large steps and placed a hand on the small of his back.

"Come on, we're sitting down." Yuki led Kyo to the couch. Tohru's shrine sat adjacent to it. Kyo's eyes went to it and he gasped. "Oh, no, no…" He pushed Yuki away and stumbled toward the hallway to his and Tohru's room.

Yuki's cell phone was in the kitchen. He wanted to call Hatori and tell him to come home, but he needed to go after Kyo now. Yuki followed Kyo, not catching him before he threw open the door to his bedroom and stared at the odds and ends of Ayame and Mine's stay in the room. "Who's been sleeping in here?"

"Ayame and Mine," Yuki said. "They've been using this room since the wake. Kyo…?"

"Right, right I know that," Kyo said. "I know. I just…" Without warning, Kyo sat down in the middle of the floor, dazed and hazy. Yuki knelt in front of him, pressing the back of his hand to Kyo's forehead. His skin was hot and dry.

"Kyo, you're sick. Come on; let's get you back to bed." Yuki reached down to take Kyo's hands and pull him up.

"No, this is our room. I want to stay in here." Kyo looked toward the closet Tohru had stored her shrine and wake decorations in.

"Okay, that's fine. Let me help you up, and you can go to bed," Yuki said.

Yuki got his arms under Kyo's and pulled him up. Kyo gave Yuki a small push away and went to the bed, falling onto it face first. He didn't move.

"I'll get you some water and aspirin. Do you want some more milk or one of the pancakes you made?" Yuki asked.

Kyo gave no answer nor did he move. Yuki touched his back and shook him lightly. "Kyo?"

"Just wash the skillet, Yuki. I don't like leaving dishes for Tohru."

Fear twisted Yuki's insides into pretzels. "Kyo, you're not leaving dishes for Tohru. Tohru's gone, right?"

"Yeah, yeah that's right," Kyo murmured. "Can't think, Yuki, my head feels funny."

"I—I'm going to call Hatori. I'll be right back. Don't move, okay?" Yuki ran from the room, skidding into the kitchen. His cell phone sat on the kitchen table. He snagged it and punched in Hatori's number. "Pick up, pick up, pick up… Hatori!"

"Yuki? Is everything all right?"

"No, Kyo's burning up and he's acting like he can't remember Tohru's dead. He says his head feels weird," Yuki blurted. "What do I do?"

"Get something into his stomach and then get him to swallow some aspirin and drink some water. I'm cancelling the rest of the interviews for today and leaving soon. Stay near him."

"Okay, but hurry." Yuki hung up and slid his phone into his pocket. He poured a glass of milk and grabbed a bottle of spring water; then he dashed back into Kyo's room. He set the drinks on a nightstand and scurried into the bathroom, searching the medicine cabinet for aspirin. He found a small bottle and twisted off the red cap, shaking two of the round pills into his palm.

He came back to the bed. Kyo was in the same prone position he'd been in before. "Kyo, time for medicine." Yuki rolled his cousin over gently and Kyo flopped over, limp as a corpse. His eyes were dull and his features were slack.

"Kyo, you have to sit up. I'll help you." Yuki placed his hands under Kyo's shoulders, pulling him upward. He grabbed the milk and pills. Kyo sat, head bowed. Yuki held the pills out to him, but Kyo's hands didn't come up to take the medicine.

"Open your mouth?" Yuki asked.

Kyo shook his head and leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. "Something's wrong with me."

"I know; the medicine will help you. Open up."

"The medicine didn't help Tohru." Kyo's fingers clenched. "I don't want it." He tried to get to his feet but Yuki held him down.

"Tell me what you want; I'll get it for you."

"Nobody can get me what I want!" Kyo shouted. "Now move so I can get to my damn closet!"

"What do you need out of there?" Yuki asked, not easing his hold. Kyo struggled, but his strength was waning. Yuki could see the fight leaving him.

"A letter box." Kyo sagged back onto the bed and rolled onto his side.

"I'll get it. Is it out where I'll see it or is it inside something?" Yuki asked.

"You won't find it," Kyo said. "I have to get it." His voice was weak. "Never mind." He brought his knees to his chest and shivered. Yuki worked the comforter from underneath Kyo and spread it over him.

He touched Kyo's cheek, frowning at how hot it was. "Kyo, you need aspirin."

Kyo shook his head. "Leave me alone."

"You should know what I'm going to say to that." Yuki sat on the bed.

"Worth a try." Kyo continued to shiver. "I hurt all over, like I pulled everything."

"How did you even get up, and make pancakes no less?" Yuki asked. Kyo hadn't seemed ready to collapse in the kitchen.

"Monday is for pancakes. Had to check the grocery list. I always do it. I make pancakes and Tohru makes syrup. Tohru writes the list and I go to the market."

"But you knew Tohru wouldn't make syrup this morning, and you knew there'd be no list."

"I want it to be there. I want it so bad, and people say when you want stuff bad enough it happens. I thought I could make it happen. Maybe I can make it happen. I just have to stick to the routine. She'll come back to finish her half. She could. Stranger things happen. I used to turn into a cat, a friggin' orange cat, when girls hugged me. I wore a damn girly bracelet to keep me from turning into a monster in the rain. If that can happen, she can come and make syrup."

Yuki stroked Kyo's hair off his face as his cousin spoke in fits, voice quivering.

"I shouldn't have agreed with her. I should have told her that I wanted her to keep trying, keep taking medicine. Uotani was right. She was right. Tohru would have done it if I asked her to. Yuki, did I kill her? Did I kill Tohru?"

Oh gods! Yuki lay down beside Kyo and wrapped his arms around his cousin. "No, Kyo, no you did not kill Tohru. She made a choice and you respected it. It was her body."

"It could still be her body! I could still have her. She might have been here longer."

"But what if she was in worse condition? What if she couldn't move around? What if she was so sick she wanted to…to die early?" Yuki said. "You made the right choice."

"I wouldn't be alone," Kyo whispered.

It was selfish, but Yuki would feel the same. More time with Machi, no matter the quality, was still time, but would he want Machi to suffer for his sake? Never—he thought that now, but it had to be different after she was dead and he had time to think about it and be without her.

"You're not alone," Yuki said.

Kyo sniffled. "Doesn't change how I feel."

Yuki pulled away from Kyo, sitting up to look down at him. Kyo stared at a picture of Tohru standing in front of The Rice Ball with an enormous grin on her face. She wore an apron with the words "The Rice Ball" embroidered on it. Her hands were outstretched as if she was coming to hug the camera man.

Yuki didn't know if he should cover the picture or bring it over.

Where are you, Hatori?

"Why is it so cold in here?"

"I'll get you another blanket, and a hot water bottle," Yuki said.

"And more pillows?"

Yuki glanced at the two large pillows on the bed, one underneath Kyo's head already. Yuki took the other, holding it over Kyo. "Where do you want this one?"

Kyo reached up, taking the pillow and working it under the covers. It disappeared and Kyo's legs shifted under the blanket. "All right, I'll be back." Yuki patted Kyo's shoulder, and left the bedroom. He walked slowly to the linen closet and took his time going to the kitchen for the rubbery bottle Tohru had used to ease her aches and pains at night. He tried to regroup. What should he do when he went back in? Maybe he could come back with a book and read aloud, or he could put on some music. He could play a movie or TV show on his laptop. The last website he'd visited for helping loved ones deal with bereavement said that he should distract Kyo.

Yuki found Tohru's hot water bottle in a cabinet above the stove top. He squeezed the stretchy material, remembering Tohru's lying on her stomach with the bottle resting on the small of her back. Kyo would be cooking or vacuuming, stopping by to steal kisses, or tease her, or ask her opinion about sauce ingredients, or sometimes just to look at her. The pain in her eyes dulled when Kyo entered the room, her sparkle revived. When Kyo finished his chores he would slip onto the couch, putting Tohru's feet in his lap and massaging them as they talked about the neighbors or Kyo's students or the bakery staff and customers.

Yuki squeezed the bottle so hard he thought it might explode. It wasn't right. He threw the bottle and didn't wince when it hit a magnet on the refrigerator and brought it crashing to the floor. He wanted to break something, hurt something, make it scream like he couldn't.

Instead, he picked the water bottle off the floor and tossed it onto the counter. The cracked magnet on the floor was a small picture of Kyo, Tohru and Yuki at the boardwalk during her first weekend home from the hospital. Yuki lifted it, sniffling quickly and blinking back tears. He could fix it. He just needed glue. The crack widened along the contours of Tohru's face. She stood between Yuki and Kyo, holding their hands.

Dammit. He let the magnet hit the floor again, watching it break in half. What was he thinking? He couldn't fix anything. He grabbed the water bottle and marched to the sink to run hot water from the faucet. He'd sweep up the mess later. Into the trash it'd go.

Once the water bottle was filled, Yuki screwed the lid on tight. He reclaimed the quilt he'd draped over the back of a kitchen chair and made his way back to Kyo's room to wait until he could turn Kyo's care over to Hatori for a while.

3 Doors Down. "Away From the Sun." Away From the Sun. Republic, 2002. CD.

Author's Note: So, what's the verdict? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Well, any way you liked it, please review!