Nii-san is still as incomprehensible as ever. He just strode into the house, announcing he'd need me and Honda-san for a final fitting and then just whisked us off before even Kyo could make a reaction. Shigure probably ordered take out again, and probably left the cartons in the kitchen for Honda-san to deal with. Poor Honda-san.

Before we know it, we're in Nii-san's shop, and Mune-san has dragged Honda-san off to do some final hemming for the dress of the class play, "Sorta Cinderella." I've been told it could take quite a while, and then Mune-san gives my brother a strange look before disappearing into another room. I find it odd that Honda-san didn't struggle; in fact, she even seemed to understand what the look is for.

But now it's just Nii-san and myself. I'm so completely wrapped in measuring tape; I wonder how he could ever make clothes on a regular basis. I have the strange sensation of being tied up, to prevent me from running. I wonder dimly if that's really true.

For a while it's quiet.

Well, quiet for Nii-san, anyway. He's blathering about this and that, with random proclamations of MEN'S ROMANCE and other pieces of caltrops.

"I was looking for a mother in her."

My mind stops as I remember saying that, remember talking to, confessing, my darkest, most private secret to someone who knew nothing about me, nothing about the Sohmas, and nothing about the curse and the tragedy.

"I wanted a warm place, a loving family, where no one would ever want to leave. And that was all."

I wonder what she would say if I told her that, that all I ever wanted was her love. Would mother laugh at me? Slap me for being so presumptuous?

And then I realize, as he tightens a measuring tape around my thin arm, that she's Nii-san's mother, too.

He's so self-confident, downright egotistical. He speaks his mind to the chagrin of everyone, and doesn't mind - even enjoys - being completely outlandish. How did mother treat him? I try to imagine it, but I can't. If she'd treated him as a nothing, as I was, then he shouldn't nearly be so, well, healthy. Healthy compared to me, at any rate. But I can't conceive of a loving mother in the image of mine. It just doesn't fit; in fact the image is almost scary, even if it's one that I'd desired for years.

"Nii-san," I whisper, afraid to ask anything. But he snaps to attention, ready to drink in and then misinterpret every word I say. Maybe I shouldn't say anything, it would only bring pain.

... That's the old Yuki talking. I'm trying to change. To learn.

"How... how did..." When did my voice become so small?

"How did I generate such fantastic clothes? Why, my dearest and only little brother, it was through the power of my love for you! When I think of the brotherly bond that we share my normally splendid powers of sewing become supernatural! Do you see how--"

"That's not what I meant!!" I shout over him. The frustration wells up in me; he must have been greatly loved, not only by mother but by everybody, for him to have such a stupidly large ego! Just like Kyo, he has everything that I'm so desperate for, the bastard!

"Then what? Really Yuki, if you want to know something you need merely ask."

I think it's the first time Nii-san's ever given me that opportunity. There's an expression in his eyes that I can't make out. The shock washed over me, and only when it's gone do I finally mutter,

"How did mother treat you? Did she... did she love you?" I'm looking at my feet, unable to glance up until after I've churned out the question. I am; however, ready to break his wrist if he whips out his cell phone to call Hatori, ready to break his legs if he runs off to Shigure, ready to break anything if he just pushes the question aside and oogle at that opportunity to strengthen our "bond."

He does none of those things, however. He blinks once, twice, three times, and then, just, sags. My brother, the graceful, elegant, poised Nii-san, just sags. He sits down heavily and puts a delicate hand to his forehead, forestalling a headache, perhaps, or maybe just to hide his face. "Sit down," he offered, and I find myself complying, unable to deny the tone in his voice.

"How do I put this?" he wondered, and there was a weight in his voice I'd only heard once before; that time when Honda-san and I had first visited the shop, and for the first time I saw the regret on his face. It was there now, heavier, darker, outlining his visage into something not quite ugly, but not quite beautiful.

"Mother is a woman of very specific standards," he said. "Her measuring tape is in stocks and bonds and assets and precious stones. She was not prepared to have someone as regal and as nearly perfect as I. Of course, that's to be expected, I suppose, because I'm such a rare and beautiful specimen. She had no concept of dignity; she kept insisting that I show some when I am naturally the most dignified person I know. I can't remember how many times she would slap me on my precious face when I was being particularly regal and exquisite. I pitied her, really, knowing that such a small woman would never be able to fully comprehend the miracle she had given birth to. When I'd heard that you were born I thought she'd finally receive solace, and indeed, she looked much happier and much wealthier."

The information absorbs slowly. Very slowly. Partly because I have to translate it from Nii-san speak into a more pragmatic and realistic syntax. She was embarrassed by him, by his outlandishness and his refusal to see the world as everyone else. She slapped him, just as she had slapped me. In a strange, twisted way, I feel good about that, to know that I wasn't the only one who suffered.

"Did you know that I didn't see you until you were three years old?"

... Eh?

"Eh?"

"It was a gathering of some sort, about what I've long forgotten. You were sitting quietly next to Akito, and 'tori-san had to tell me that you were my little brother. I knew you existed of course, but it was the first time I'd ever seen you."

The pain is bright, sudden, and almost consuming.

"I didn't know at the time about your circumstances; and honestly I was too absorbed in my own petty world to be bothered. If I had known then, I often wonder, how differently things would have been. Mother and father were off on trips all the time. Father barely showed up at all - I've come to believe it's his way of escaping the reality of what he's done. Mother would be home more often, but by then I'd learned to ignore her. 'Let her be happy with her new son,' I thought. So you see, when you reached out to me that one time, that look of trepidation and fear on your face, I had no idea what you had actually wanted, and I so callously brushed you off."

The pain isn't mine, now, it's his, and it's visible in his intonation. His blustering has completely subsided, and I realize that, perhaps for the first time, I'm seeing my real Nii-san. I'm riveted; unable to move as concrete is poured into my limbs and hardening instantly.

"It was, oh, years later when rumor passed through that you'd been gravely ill. 'tori-san even said that his father was unsure if you'd make it, that you'd run off to die that night but came back anyway. And three weeks later mother came home. I broke the news to her gently, not wanting to sadden her, so imagine my surprise when she shrugged and said, 'It would only have been a problem if he'd died.'

"It was the first time I realized that something wasn't right. I was slow, wasn't I? 'gure-san and 'tori-san knew much more about what was going on than I, and when I inquired about you they gaped at me, saying you were my little brother, surely I must have known more than anyone. That moment in time, that day you reached out to me, the look on your face resurfaced and it wouldn't disappear. I was missing something, surely. Something important. Even the regal and godlike Ayame had failed to see something, fallibility dropped on my head like the entirety of heaven, or perhaps hell, and suddenly I was desperate to learn anything I could about you.

"It didn't finally come to me until I realized how richly dear mother was living. It could have only happened if you had been sold to Akito, and the realization of that made me ill beyond anyone had ever seen of me. Now I knew what emotions were expressed on your face that day, and the agony I must have caused you, and the loathing that you surely felt towards me. It was inconceivable that anyone could hate such a noble and poised creature as myself, and to see that it would have been done through my own actions caused me great distress.

"It was the last conversation I had with mother before seeing her again at your parent-teacher conference. I confronted her with what I'd learned, righteous fury at what had transpired, at the sins such a petty woman had committed, and she merely laughed in my face. How did she put it, again? 'You two are not sons to me; how could freaks of nature like you be sons? You're nothing but tools. You failed me, Ayame, because of your overactive ego; but Yuki succeeded. In spite of his continuous wish to rebel, his stupid fake coughing, in spite of his tiny mind, the head of the family favors him, and because of that he favors me. What more could I ever want from children like you?'"

Silence descends on the both of us, each lost in our own thoughts. I never knew any of this. I never realized that Ayame deliberately sought me out; to correct something even he didn't understand, but knew was horribly wrong. To listen to the things that mother had said. There is a tightness in my chest; I can't tell where it's coming from.

"Here I've gone and prattled again, when I know you like short and direct answers. No, mother never showed me love, not the kind of love you are talking about. I don't think she's ever had it, herself, really. She's living the only way she knows how and, pathetic and small as she is, I can feel nothing but pity for such a wretched creature."

... even Nii-san is kinder than I am. "I don't think I'm so forgiving," I said finally, after being silent for so long.

"That is to be expected, Yuki, considering your circumstances with her. I thought that I would never forgive her, either, but over time I came to see how piteous she really is, and it was all that was left in me to do. Besides, anger makes one age, and I'd much rather retain my naturally physical perfection for as long as possible."

I understand him a little better now, I can see clearer what he has done for me. He speaks of her in the past tense, the same way I do. He has closed the door to her the same way that I have, or thought I had. There are so many emotions rolling through me, I'm not sure which ones I'm feeling. But, there are words, deep inside me, and as hard as it is, I want to get them out.

"Nii-san... Thank you."

"The hemming is done!" Mune-san prances in, happy as a cloud. "The dress is absolutely perfect! It's one of our best pieces yet. Well, aside from Yuki-kun's exquisite collection of fabric, of course."

"Yes, indeed, it is one of my finest creations. Let us see the final result, so that my dear little brother may behold the miraculous transformation of Princess Tohru from a gentle blossom to a blooming flower!"

...

"Ah, wouldn't it be better to save the surprise for the play?" I plead.

"No, no, no! Such beauty isn't meant to be seen only once, but forever preserved for all to see. Mune-san, did you get the camera?"

"Yes, I did! It would make a great publishing photo, for promotional things. Oh! We can use the two of them for the business cards we were talking about!"

"Yes! Indeed! My own little brother dressed as the fairy godmother and Princess Tohru as the wicked stepsister on a business card! It's the perfect way to advertise our perfect little shop! Yuki! I order you to change right now!"

"... but the last minute measurements?"

"Were done and taken care of, didn't you notice my sewing during our wonderful bonding time? Oh, you were so riveted by our deep and meaningful conversation that you didn't notice! How sweet, I must tell everything to 'tori-san and 'gure-san."

"Do that and you die." I threaten. And, surprisingly, he stops. Instead he twirls in mid step and tosses the fabric in his arms at me.

"Change, Yuki, that we might be able to take the pictures!!"

There are hands over me, and before I really know whose is whose, I am in my fairy godmother outfit and staring at Honda-san, who looks spectacular in her own dress. The flush on my face is overwhelming, spreading from my cheeks to my ears, and I'm sure even to my neck all the way to my toes. She is truly beautiful, and one day I will thank her for everything that she's done for me.

The same way I have thanked Nii-san for what he has for me.