Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Learning to Stand ❯ Fading Gold ( Chapter 18 )

Chapter 18: Fading Gold

Two weeks later I received a phone call from Sohma-san. He told me that Akito wanted to see me. He was very straightforward. I don't remember what we talked about; all I remember was that my blood was rushing through my ears so loudly that I couldn't hear what he said. Finally he stopped talking and I knew he wanted was waiting for me to say something.

"When?" I asked.

"Tomorrow. I've already told Rin-san. She's on her way over to see you now."

"Arigatou, Sohma-san. Whatever happens, I want you to know I'm grateful."

"Hai."

When she arrived, she didn't say a word. She threw her arms around me.

"No regrets, Isuzu-chan." I choked out. "I'm happy I got to know you. I'm happy I've had Isuzu-chan for my friend." I couldn't talk any more. She was crying in that silent way of hers. Her whole body shook with the force of her sobs.

"You can still run," she pointed out after our grief was spent. I shook my head.

"I don't want to. I never liked running much anyway. Besides, if I ran I don't think I'd be able to resist the temptation of letting you know where I'd gone. I don't have another best friend, you know." I prayed she would understand. I needed her to. I hadn't known it at the time but the moment I realized the danger I had chosen this course. I could have ended it then and there: cut her out of my life and never asked the questions I had. I was selfish. I didn't want to let go of her. This was the result. I'd hurt my best friend more than I ever wanted to. As punishments went, having my memory erased was almost anticlimactic. I didn't deserve it. I deserved to be allowed to remember this moment, when the weight of everything I'd done came crashing down on me and I was fully aware of the pain I had caused her. I began to weep.

"Gomen, Isuzu-chan. All this time I never wanted to see you hurt. I was so selfish. I couldn't let you go. I-" She just held me as I cried.

"I'm glad Tamae-chan was selfish. Hatsuharu told me you gave him the translation. He said you challenged him. He said you are a good person. I agree with him. Tamae-chan is a good person. If Tamae-chan hadn't been so selfish and fought so hard I would never have known what it's like to have her for a friend. I don't think I would want to not remember that Tamae-chan is my friend, even if she won't be able to." She sounded as surprised as I was when she said this. "No regrets, Tamae-chan."

"Hai," I replied. The pain was still there, but her words had soothed it somewhat. "No regrets."

We spent one last day together. We skipped classes and walked about town, holding hands and talking about everything and nothing at all. If it hadn't been for the shadow that loomed over me, I would have called it a good day. But I still smiled and laughed easily. This day was for both of us. She spent the night. I couldn't sleep.

So I've spent the whole night writing this. I'm sure I've romanticized the whole affair but, as the friends I've made keep telling me, I am a romantic. It's now well into morning. Hatori-san and Shigure-san should be arriving in about two hours and I have to get ready. I'm going to wear that red dress that Ayame `talked' me into buying. The irony there is so obvious I'm cringing as I write this but it does look good on me. I want her to remember me looking good.

I'm sending this to Sohma-san. I'm going to ask Hatori-san to give it to him if my memories are erased. I don't know what he'll do with it; I don't know if he'll do anything at all. I'm sure he'll read it and be amused by my reaction to him. Maybe he'll wind up giving it to Isuzu-chan. There are so many things I haven't had the words to tell her. She taught me to be strong, to be bold, to not care so much of how people thought of me. She forced me to venture outside my safe little world into one that was so dangerous it only sharpened my joy at being in it. However, I couldn't tell her the one lesson that, most of all, I don't want to forget.

In the end, it was she who taught me how to stand.