I sat on the tatami, still a little breathless, like I'd woken up inside a dream I wasn't supposed to have.
Just hours ago, I was alone on a crumbling hillside. Now, I was here in the Sohma house, sitting cross-legged at their low table, wrapped in the quiet hum of evening.
Shigure leaned against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed, watching me with that half-smile that never quite reached his eyes. Tohru came in carrying a tray with three steaming cups of tea, her steps light, her smile warm as sunrise.
"Here you go!" she said, handing me my cup first. Her fingers brushed mine soft, real and I almost forgot to breathe.
"Thank you," I murmured, cradling the cup like it was something precious.
Shigure took his tea, gaze drifting toward the garden. "Yuki should be back soon with your mother's picture, Tohru-kun."
Tohru's eyes lit up. "Oh! Do you think he'll be okay?"
Shigure chuckled, voice smooth as honey. "Of course. He's got ten thousand mice helping him. He'll be fine."
Tohru threw her head back and laughed a bright, bubbling sound that filled the room like wind chimes. "Shigure-san! You're so silly!"
But I?
I nearly snorted into my tea.
He's not joking, Tohru, I thought, heart pounding. He's being serious. The mice are literally helping him right now.
I bit my lip to keep from grinning. Only someone who'd read every panel, watched every episode, would know that. And that was me.
Tohru turned to me, still smiling. "Misaki-chan, why were you on the cliff, though?"
I fidgeted with my cup. "Oh, that… I, uh… don't really have anywhere to go. I thought it'd be safe to rest there."
Her eyes widened. "Wow! Same with me! Were you living in a tent too?"
I laughed nervously. "No, no - I was just… lying on the grass."
She gasped, hands flying to her cheeks. "Just lying on the grass? At night? As a girl?"
Shigure smirked. "Looks like you're even more carefree than Tohru here."
"N-no!" I stammered, face burning. "I just… maybe a bit clumsy. That's all!"
From the doorway, a calm voice cut in:
"Only a truly carefree person would lie on grass at night and think it's a good idea… while being a girl."
I turned.
Yuki stood there, holding Tohru's mother's photo frame with careful hands. His expression was gentle, but his eyes held that quiet, princely concern that made my chest ache.
"Here," he said, offering the photo. "Your mother's picture."
Tohru took it like it was made of glass, her whole face softening. "Thank you, Yuki-kun!" She cradled it close, and in that moment, she glowed not with magic but with love.
Oh man, I thought, smiling to myself. This ship is so quietly perfect.
I gave a small, happy nod.
Shigure's eyes flicked to me. "You talk to yourself a lot, don't you?"
I froze. "Wha -? Why'd you say that?"
He leaned forward just slightly, gaze sharp beneath the charm. "You do. I've noticed."
My stomach dropped. Of course, he has. Shigure doesn't miss anything.
Panicked, I lifted my tea and gulped it down in one go, scalding hot, but I didn't flinch.
Tohru gasped. "That was hot!!!"
"Yeah -ow- but it's fine!" I lied through a pained smile. "Ahahaha…"
Yuki just stared at me, half suspicious, half worried, like I might vanish in a puff of steam.
Shigure clapped his hands. "Well! Time to sleep." He turned to me. "Misaki, would you mind joining Tohru tonight? Sharing a room?"
My heart leaped. "Of course not!"
Yuki gave a small bow. "Good night," he said, voice quiet but warm.
Shigure waved. "Sweet dreams, you two!"
And then it was just us.
Tohru and I lay side by side on our futons, the room bathed in moonlight. Outside, crickets sang, and the wind whispered through the trees like a lullaby.
She turned to me, eyes soft as petals. "Don't worry, Misaki-chan. Everything will be all better soon."
Her words hit me like a warm hand on my shoulder.
In my old world, no one ever said things like that to me.
No one ever saw me enough to try.
"Thank you," I whispered, voice thick. "Yours will be too, Tohru. Just… wait and see."
She smiled small, sure, full of hope and in that smile, I saw the girl who carried her mother's love like a lantern through the dark.
And for the first time in forever…
I didn't feel invisible.
I felt home.
We didn't speak again.
But as I closed my eyes, listening to her steady breath beside me, I knew:
This wasn't just shelter.
It was the beginning of belonging.