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My, My, Imai! Redux (2019)	By : VanillaToast Category: Fruits Basket > Het - Male/Female Views: 747 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story or any brands/names herein. The only character of my own making is Imai.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Author's Note: With the approach of the holidays, I may not be able to update quite as much as I have been since I started posting this. I work in retail and my husband will be coming back into town for Christmas so I will obviously be ridiculously busy. I also had a major backlog of chapters ready to be uploaded before I was able to get my account back into service. I hope you all enjoy your holidays!
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Not a sound came from Hatori’s home for most of the day. He didn’t even accept lunch or dinner when maids attempted to bring him his share for the day. To be honest, they couldn’t even get into Hatori’s home and did no more than knock, but they continued to try as it was their duty.
Through the day, Hatori gradually began to feel better. He had taken medication that he had set aside for such occasions and had slept most of the horrible day off. Now that it was drawing closer to bedtime and he wasn’t the least bit tired anymore, Hatori finally left his bedroom and hoarded the bath house connected to the main house for a long, hot, much needed bath. He also had to change into clothes he hadn’t worn or slept in for two days.
Tea sounded nice to Hatori and he finally accepted the maids’ offers to bring him some when one caught him padding through the connected hallways back to his home. Hatori did feel a little better, though he was still on the sluggish side; it was rare that Hatori became ill, but not rare at all for him to be depressed on top of it.

Imai continued to stay in her room for most of the day as well, finding that there was no real reason for her to leave it. Akito had left her alone for most of the day and while he rarely had anything to say to Imai, she enjoyed the silence of being alone more than she enjoyed the silence that came with being cooped up with her brother.
Imai grew restless as the hours ticked by and the sun began to set. She felt as if she were going stir-crazy, ready to jump out of her own skin when bedtime drew closer. She had not spent time with Hatori for two days, and while it wasn’t very long at all, Imai still felt as if it had been years and that she would go absolutely mad without his quiet company. Imai had grown so used to Hatori’s presence that she marveled at how she’d gotten along without it for so many years. For the first time in her life, Imai felt the pangs of boredom seep into her bones.
With a sigh, Imai left the room she had been restlessly pacing for most of the day, passing Akito on her way out.
He’s going to bed. Good. Imai thought as she gave a silent, polite bow to her brother. Akito ignored her and simply pushed past her to go to bed.
Now, Imai could ferret through one of her hiding spots and find a book to read in the bath and she did just that. Pattering lightly down the dim hallways of the main house, Imai checked over her shoulders to make sure that nobody was looking and slid into a closet. Shutting the door behind her, she rifled through the darkness, not needing a light to know the exact spot she had hidden a stash of books. Blindly feeling past an old box of maid’s kimono, she found the tiny raise of a floorboard and did her best to pry it open. She had been reading in Hatori’s home so often that the normally easy-to-remove floorboard now had Imai struggling, but with a hard, determined yank, she pulled it free without much noise and fished the top book out. She held still for a few moments, listening to hear if anyone had heard her pull the floorboard loose, but only heard muffled talking further down the hall.
Sounds like Hatori finally came out of his cave to take a bath. Imai mused as she replaced the floorboard and carefully poked her head out of the closet before emerging, the book tucked safely into her kimono. I hope the water’s still hot.
Imai made her way down the hallways leading to the shared bath house; each individual home on the main estate had its own bathroom and kitchen, but there was a much larger one of each in the main house that was often used by those with connected homes, like Hatori’s. Imai stopped when she came across Hatori.

Hatori, for the most part, looked more refreshed than he did hours ago when Imai and Ayame had invaded his home. As for being sick, he really wasn’t, despite how he felt; the snow had only chilled him and the restful sleep he had managed to get through the day had worked wonders. The hot bath had been an added plus. Hatori’s skin was back to its normal color, though his cheeks were pink from the bath and his hair was still a bit damp. He idly rubbed a towel that had been draped over his shoulder through the wet ends of his dark hair.
“Good evening.” Hatori said, pausing momentarily as Imai approached. He hadn’t expected to run into anyone on the way back from the bath house, but it wasn’t improbable. The greeting was more than anyone on the main estate got from him and Hatori also meant it as a sort of apology to make for how indisposed he had been when she had been presented to him earlier.
Hatori’s attention turned briefly to a maid as she brought a tray of tea and snacks up to Hatori.
“If you would please take that to my office.” Hatori said, flatly though not unkindly. “Thank you.”
He watched as the maid scurried off to do just that and when Hatori was sure the maid had gone he turned his attention back to Imai.
“There’s tea in my study if you’re interested.” Hatori offered quietly before resuming his trek back to his home. He had seen that Imai had a rather suspicious way of clutching her stomach as she headed toward the bath house and he assumed that she was sneaking off to read in the bath again. He felt a bit guilty for having ignored her earlier.

Imai was a little shocked at Hatori’s offer and wondered if it might be because he was feeling better. Imai weighed her options as Hatori moved away, turning her gaze down the hallway toward the bath house and then back to Hatori.
I could take a quick bath and skip reading, then go see Hatori… Imai thought. Or I could just go read with Hatori.
The decision was made quickly and Imai quickly caught up to Hatori, still clutching her book tightly under her robes; it was the only place she felt she could hide it where her brother wouldn’t dare to look.
“Hatori-san,” Imai said, finally catching up to him. Her smaller, shorter strides were faster than his longer ones and she looked up to him, her golden eyes still worried. “You’re feeling better, right?”
To Imai, Hatori was more than just her doctor, he was her friend, and she was just as worried about his wellbeing as any friend would be.

Hatori didn’t miss a step and allowed Imai to walk along with him as they made their way through the hallways that led to his study.
“Yes,” Hatori said, opening the door for her to reveal the promised tea sitting on his coffee table, the cups empty and waiting to be filled.
The windows and doors to the outside had been closed, so it was far warmer and cozier in Hatori’s office than it had been the night before. The blankets he had used were folded neatly and stacked on the couch.
Hatori took his now usual seat on one of the two couches in his office, spreading a hand out to the one opposite him in a gesture for Imai to join him. Silent as always, Hatori reached for his pack of cigarettes that sat on the windowsill behind him.

Imai smiled at Hatori’s answer, knowing that he wouldn’t lie to her. She was happy that he was feeling better and once inside his office, Imai took the offered seat. She poured Hatori a cup of tea before pouring one for herself. After pulling out the book the had hidden in her robe and placing it on the coffee table, Imai pulled her legs up to her side comfortably.
Imai no longer minded Hatori’s smoking and had long grown used to the smell of it since she now frequented his home, though she still couldn’t fully understand the habit. She found the flaw charming.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Hatori-san.” Imai said, watching as Hatori lit his cigarette and took a drag. “And… I’m sorry that Ayame-san and I burst into your house like that. It was very rude of us.”
Remorse filled Imai’s voice as she timidly sipped the hot tea, her eyes leaving Hatori to the book she had blindly grabbed. It was a tome of fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen, and had been one of the first books she had ever received from Shigure. She had always treasured it, and her super-secret hiding spot in the closet had kept it safe for years. She knew that she would have to take Hatori’s gift and place it there as well, for it was just as treasured.

“I’m used to Aya doing those kinds of things,” Hatori said casually, and closed his eyes. He let the smoke from his cigarette seep out through his nostrils as he relaxed more on the couch.
“Shouldn’t I be apologizing, though?” Hatori asked, his eyes still closed as he leaned his head back.
With as rude as barging in on him earlier might have been, Hatori had been even more rude with the way he had rebuked the pair no matter how unintentional it had been. The good doctor finally pulled his head forward again and opened his eyes, resting their icy hues on the timid girl in front him.
“Your dress is beautiful.” Hatori finally said, reaching a hand down to take the politely poured cup of tea and lifting to his lips without another word.

Imai lifted her eyes from the book on the coffee table to Hatori in confusion.
What would he have to apologize for? Imai wondered, her brows furrowing in bewilderment.
However, when Hatori complimented her dress Imai understood. She felt her face flush in embarrassment, her cheeks and the bridge of her nose reddening. Imai’s hands were frozen, midway between her lap and raising her tea to her lips. Only when Hatori reached out to take his tea did Imai remember to breathe, turning golden eyes back down to her own drink. She seemed to find the hot liquid inside the china more interesting than the doctor’s face.
“Th—thank you, Hatori-san.” Imai muttered softly, clearing her throat and hoping that it wasn’t terribly obvious that she was flattered by Hatori’s compliment. She took a quick sip of tea in hopes that her throat would unclench.
“I…” Imai stammered for a moment before taking a stabilizing breath and continuing, a little less flustered than before. “I didn’t think I would look right in it. I mean… I’ve never worn anything like that before.”
Imai’s modesty wasn’t entirely false; she spent most of her time in kimono and had never worn anything form fitting like Ayame’s creation before.

“Aya is good at what he does if you can survive him long enough.” Hatori said, not catching the blush on Imai’s face as he had closed his eyes again. He didn’t really feel he was paying Imai a compliment but was simply stating a fact; she had managed to pull off the dress quite well and Hatori doubted that he would be the only one to tell her so by the time Christmas came around.
Outside, the snow was still falling steadily, though Hatori seemed to have gotten most of his anguish out of his system the night before. All that remained was a slightly heavy demeanor about him. There was silence again, aside from the occasional clinking china on the table or breath from Hatori’s cigarette.

“I’m sorry about that, too.” Imai said, feeling a little ashamed of her earlier behavior when it had come to Ayame. “I suppose that Ayame-san is the most energetic person I’ve ever been around, aside from Gure-ni-san. Ayame-san scared me at first, but I like him. He’s a little loud, but he’s very friendly.”
Imai had calmed a bit with the comfortable, familiar quiet of Hatori’s office.
“He says that he wants to make more clothes for me, but I think he’s just as fond of playing with my hair.” Imai added, giggling a bit.
Imai’s hair was almost as impressive as Ayame’s in length and the pair might have been mistaken for siblings if it wasn’t for the drastic difference in their coloring. Imai’s hair reached well past her waist and was only rarely pleated by the maids in the hotter months; most of the time, she let the apple red tresses loose.
Imai fiddled with the hem of her robe, finding that even though the tranquility of Hatori’s company calmed her, she could barely keep herself still. She was eager to see the expression on Hatori’s face come Christmas night. She had found a way to get Hatori a Christmas gift through Shigure, who had been more than happy to help. Imai hoped that she hadn’t overdone it with the gift she had chosen for Hatori; she’d had a difficult time not wanting to circle everything she saw in the ordering magazine that Shigure had snuck to her.
Imai knew she would owe Shigure a lot for the hassle of braving the crowds for that dreadful last-minute shopping trip, but in the moment she was only concerned for Hatori.
He still seems a bit out of it. Imai thought, noting that, despite Hatori’s gift giving, he still seemed to lack Christmas spirit. Imai knew that it was unusual for Hatori to have Christmas spirit—she didn’t expect him to traipse around the estate in a Santa hat and fake beard—but she hoped that her gift would brighten his spirits a little.

“Hn.” Hatori huffed a half-laugh, mustering a faint smile with Imai’s remark about Ayame wanting to continue making clothes for her. Ayame was always like that, but Hatori wasn’t sure if he was willing to give up the peace and quiet he was so fond of having all the time, though the chaos that followed Ayame was warm in its own demented sort of way.
Christmas spirit was certain something Hatori didn’t have an ounce of, save the for the single gift he had purchased for Imai. He sat in silence after that little response and idly looked up for the first time that night to the window.

Imai followed Hatori’s gaze to the window, wondering if perhaps he had only invited her over to simply apologize over tea. She wondered if he was thinking of Kanna.
How silly…Imai thought to herself. Of course he’s thinking of Kanna-san.
Imai’s eyes fell from the window and over to Hatori’s desk, finally resting on the single picture of Kanna that sat so lonely in the corner. Imai had never seen or met Kanna in person, but from what she had heard from Shigure, Kanna had been a very lively, sweet woman.
Imai had also heard that her own moth had been the same way. Imai still blamed herself for her mother’s death, and her guilt was only bolstered by Akito’s constant reminders.
Now, just as Hatori was lost in his own inner turmoil, so was Imai as she pulled her eyes from Kanna’s picture and back down to her tea.
If Mother hadn’t died giving birth to me, Imai thought morbidly. Hatori-san might have been able to marry Kanna-san. He might even be a father by now and the snow wouldn’t make him sad. Akito might be smiling instead of being angry all the time.

Hatori noticed that after a few moments the once comfortable silence turned awkward. He turned his face away from the window, resting his eyes on Imai’s features. She appeared to be just as lost in thought as he had been and took note of her anguished expression.
Now would be the time to talk, stupid. Hatori berated himself, furrowing his brows for a moment before clearing his throat.
“Are you going to read tonight?” Hatori asked. He wasn’t exactly an expert at starting conversation when it came to turning attention away from unpleasant topics.
It was growing late and no doubt past bedtime, but Hatori was anything but tired after having slept most of the day. Hatori’s office would be open late and, as always, Imai would be welcome to use it for as long as she wished.

Imai was startled out of her thoughts by Hatori’s voice and her attention suddenly turned back to him. Imai’s eyelids fluttered with emotion for a moment, as if blinking away oncoming tears, before she brought herself back to the present. She washed her face of whatever expression she had subconsciously been making during her deep thought, but still cast her eyes back down in shame.
“I… I don’t know.” Imai started, biting her bottom lip in contemplation before continuing. “But, if it isn’t too late for you, may I still stay for a little bit? I find that I sleep better if I stay with you for a while.”
Imai was a little stunned at herself with how open she suddenly felt with Hatori, but she was being entirely truthful with him; she was always able to sleep better after she spent time with Hatori. The doctor had always made her feel as though she were invincible when she was with him and his calm demeanor always had a way of soothing a difficult day.
Idly, Imai wondered if her company was just a soothing for Hatori as it was for her. While the pair didn’t talk much or very often, she felt that quiet company was just the kind that Hatori enjoyed and she felt as if he were warming up to her with every visit.

“You act as if I sleep.” Hatori commented in that odd sense of humor he had.
Another drag was taken from his cigarette and Hatori tipped his head back against the comfort of the couch, exhaling as he crossed his legs neatly.
As open as Imai was being with him, Hatori was still locked away in his shell and seemed to have every intention of staying in there. Though they didn’t go unnoticed, Hatori had simply decided not to comment on the not-so-subtle changes taking place in the equally as withdrawn girl he used to know. People already knew more about him than he liked.
“Stay as long as you wish.” Hatori said, suddenly standing as he was struck by an afterthought. He moved across the room like a shadow and opened a window, letting the heat that made the room cozy rush out to welcome the winter snow. He did it to keep the air of his office clear of cigarette stink in respect for his visitor.
Christmas is sneaking up fast. Hatori mused, closing his eyes as a flake of white kissed his face and melted with the heat it found there. In just mere weeks, spring would be upon them again for another year and only then would Hatori feel like himself once more.

Imai smiled, then, hardly able to keep it hidden from him anymore. Somehow, and she wasn’t quite certain exactly how, but Hatori had been the knife to pry open her tightly sealed clamshell and expose her tender feeling to the air like a long-awaited pearl. He had offered her so much, in her anguished and tortured mind, that she could not help but warm up to him. Imai wanted to snuggle further into his comfort and safety as though it were a warm fur blanket in the dead of an Alaskan winter.
To Imai, Hatori had become to single most important person in her life. It had taken Shigure many years to get Imai to open up to him, but Hatori had managed the same thing in only a short amount of time. Hatori had knocked Shigure soundly down from his top rung and had suddenly taken his place. All Imai could do was marvel at the very idea.
“Everyone sleeps, you know.” Imai replied softly, even as the warm air rushed from the room with the open window. Imai didn’t mind his smoking, really, and didn’t mind the strange but almost secure silence that passed between them.
Yes, everyone slept. Until Imai had grown closer to Hatori, she had been soundly asleep, drowned in her own nightmares and locking her mental doors to everyone around her, trying to lock out the strange reality that had stared her in the face her entire life. Hatori had been the soft calling in her ear that woke her from her nightmares and was the key that had unlocked the doors to true tranquility that even Shigure couldn’t offer her. She felt for Hatori in a way that she simply didn’t for Shigure and it terrified her to think about it.

“Eventually, I suppose.” Hatori said, the sudden burst of conversation managing to trigger the strangest course of thought for him. There were different ways that one could sleep: for a few hours, days, or even an eternity. Each of which no one knew when or where they would experience it.
The silence was back again, disrupted only by the sounds of the outside. Hatori took one or two more puffs from his cigarette to finish it off. The last option of sleep—for eternity—weighed on his mind in the moment Hatori turned to look over his should to watch Imai absentmindedly. He had a question, but he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask, considering the circumstances of their situation.
He kept the question to himself, for now, and decided against asking it as he turned his gaze back out over the stretch of white that blanketed the gardens outside.

Imai’s eyes remained on Hatori and the silence in the room became almost deafening. She had seen the look in Hatori’s eyes when he had turned to look at her. She could sense that he wanted to say something but she wasn’t sure. Even the indifferent expression on Hatori’s face couldn’t hide the fact that she could read his eyes like an open book.
Slowly, Imai placed her tea on the coffee table and stood to cross the floor. She stopped once she reached Hatori’s side and stood flush with him as though she were ready to walk into the flames of Hell with the good doctor.
She said nothing but simply allowed her gaze to follow Hatori’s own into the wintery, blanketed gardens. Each flower that she had once enjoyed in the warmer seasons were now dead, allowing their untarnished souls to sleep until spring arrived to raise them from the dead like a phoenix from the flames. The bench that she had once occupied on almost a daily basis was covered in snow and would most likely remain unoccupied while she was still afforded the company of her quiet, scarred friend.
Imai searched her mind for something, anything to say to break the silence; a joke, an observation, even a question, but the bowels of her mind remained locked to her searching and her digging was fruitless. But Imai simply felt happy with Hatori in the silence as she did when they engaged in mild conversation. She was happy with Hatori in any situation.

It was just that quiet presence around him that helped Hatori snub out the pangs of sadness in the back recesses of his hart. It was the little things, he found, that ended up meaning more to him than anything and he had slowly begun to learn how to appreciate them.
“What does snow become when it melts?” Hatori asked against his better judgement. He had decided not to ask her the question until she stood up to join him at the window.
Snow caught in Hatori’s hair, sparkling in the dim light of the study as it melted quickly. As melancholy as the winter made him, it was the season that seemed to suit him best; the blue of the cold and ice matched his eyes almost perfectly, not to mention his often-icy moods.
For a moment, Imai said nothing and wondered where the question had even come from. She had never heard such an odd question in her life and had no idea of the significance it held for Hatori.
“…Spring.” Imai smile with her answer, her eyes still trained on the cold and dead garden outside, still beautiful in its temporary loss of life as it was when it was in full, blooming glory. “It turns to Spring when the snow melts, and it always melts before you know it.”
It was then that Imai turned her golden eyes up to Hatori’s icy blues, her smile still tipping the edges of her thin lips.
“Spring is my favorite time of year.” Imai said, and it didn’t take a genius to know why. Imai had been a flower surrounded by an icy winter her entire life, but Hatori had been the single ray of sunshine to help melt it away and she was slowly unfurling her petals to his warm presence.

Hatori felt his breath hitch in the back of his throat, his eyes widening in a mild display of surprise and the answer Imai had for him. A short moment of silence went by to make way for thought. Hatori had expected her to be thinking of more scientific theories to give him: water, vapor, puddles… Hatori was surprised.
The doctor didn’t say anything, but in that rare moment, his stoic expression shifted into something warmer, his normally stern eyes going soft as the first real smile graced his features for the first time in years. If he didn’t know any better, he would call the brief tickling sensation in his stomach “butterflies”.
“That’s right,” Hatori said, his expression still soft as he turned his face to look back outside. “It turns into spring.”

Imai saw Hatori’s smile and her own broadened in response. She had been surprised by the sudden softer expression Hatori showed but showed no outward sign of her wonder.
“I can’t wait until Spring.” Imai said, looking back out of the window as well. “Then, I can find out more about the flowers with the book you gave me.”
Imai’s plan for the first day that the garden flowers bloomed as to find out more about them and then share the new information with Hatori. Imai was having a hard time containing her excitement about Spring, but also about her Christmas gift for Hatori. She was already holding so many things from him and they weren’t surprise gifts; Imai still had secrets locked away that she didn’t even want to say to herself.
Imai wondered when she had begun to think of Hatori as more than just her doctor and she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when she no longer feared entering his office and started looking forward to it. She wondered when she no longer shuddered in horror at the idea of Hatori’s hands touching her and when she ended up wanting nothing more than to spend every moment with him.
Then it clicked.
Imai knew why and thinking on it for just that mere fraction of a heartbeat made her realize with growing fear that she didn’t think of Hatori as her doctor or her friend. She didn’t want to think about it, even to herself, because it made a lump of fear catch in her throat that threatened to cut off her breathing.
Imai’s face flushed, the crimson shame spreading across her delicate features. Imai prayed that Hatori didn’t notice and hoped that if she stomped the feeling, crushing it and drowning it out with her own fear, that it would simply go away. She didn’t want to feel it, even in the moment she realized her love for Hatori had deepened into something more frightening to her. She couldn’t handle it and she didn’t want to have to deal with it. To Imai, being in love was an unwelcome feeling and just knowing that she wanted to stomp out a feeling that was supposed to be good made her feel guilty.
Imai felt guilty for feeling it and hating to feel it and she suddenly felt as though she wanted to flee in her sudden shame.

Hatori turned his eyes to Imai, the blue hues still gentle as they settled on her. Hatori didn’t notice it at first, but the way Imai now looked confirmed that there had been another mood change in that particular span of silence.
“Imai-kun?” Hatori asked, his brows furrowing for a moment. “Is something the matter?”
Hatori thought that perhaps the cold of the open window was too much for Imai and he moved to close it. Hatori’s other hand pressed to the small of Imai’s back to ease her out of the way. The room became warm again the instant the winter was cut off from the study and any snow that happened to have drifted in was already melting into little puddles on the wooden floors.

Imai’s face flushed darker with Hatori’s suddenly endearing suffix change.
He’s never called me that before. Imai thought, standing tongue-tied for a moment before moving with Hatori’s gentle urging. Imai’s breath caught in her throat.
“N—no. Nothing at all, Hatori-san.” Imai stammered. “I... I was just thinking.”
Imai was confused about what she wanted; she wanted to run away and hide but she also wanted to stay with Hatori for as long as she could, just to know that he acknowledged her presence. Imai found that Hatori’s touch was like fire on her and she could feel the warmth of his strong hand through her thick robes. To Imai, Hatori’s voice no longer sounded human, and she likened the sound to silk across skin.
His eyes, Imai thought. They’re so piercing. I feel like he can see straight into me!
Imai wanted him to talk forever, she wanted him to never take his hand from her back, and she wanted him to look at her that way until the rest of the world had turned to dust.
I… I can’t stand it! Imai thought, suddenly losing her nerve. No sooner had Hatori shut the window was Imai bolting from his office as though she’d been set on fire.
The next thing Imai knew, she had run all the way down the estate’s main gate, standing before the giant doors that led to the world outside. Freedom was just so close.
The snow covered Imai’s bare feet up to her ankles, chilling her entire body to the bone, but she hardly noticed her own shivering past her sudden panic. Imai contemplated simply walking out of the gates, Akito be damned. The longer she stayed there, the longer she had ready access to the man who had suddenly become like an addiction. She felt like she would go mad, trying to bring herself to simply open the gates and leave, but she was torn between her ties with the zodiac and the sudden, terrifying feeling of being in love.

“Imai--!” Hatori called, taking a single step after her. He caught himself before another followed. If Imai wanted to go, Hatori wouldn’t stop her no matter how confused he was over how abrupt the departure had been. Hatori didn’t think he’d said anything offense, but it was difficult to tell with those who were so locked up, in every sense of the word. Hatori was one that understood that more than anyone else.
“… … …”
Hatori watched the door of his study swing shut of its own accord and his brows furrowed down in worry. Suddenly, Hatori realized one small detail that he had never noticed before: how cold his home was without the peaceful company Imai provided. No matter how high the heat could be turned up, nothing could take away the chill. Hatori was worried about Imai, but it wasn’t in his nature to chase after people.
Hatori sat back down on the couch, confused and finding himself anxiously trying to figure out what to do next.

Imai continued to stand in front of the gates that taunted her. They were unlocked. She could walk out at any moment and never look back. She could run away and never see the estate again, leaving it for the freedom the rest of the world had to offer.
But… Imai thought forlornly, it would be so lonely if Hatori wasn’t there with me.

Imai hated herself. She could leave if only her ties to the zodiac and to Hatori would let her.
How could I let this happen? Imai berated herself as she finally resolved to make her way back to the Main House, trudging the long way back to avoid Hatori’s house altogether. I’m so selfish for feeling like this! Hatori-san has so much on his hands already, what with the family, me, my brother… And losing Kanna-san, too! I’m so selfish for hoping he would feel anything for me stronger than friendship. It would be hopeless, even if he did.
Imai’s brother, Akito, and the curse would stand in the way, no matter what transpired between her and Hatori. Imai resolved that she wouldn’t go to see Hatori anymore for anything other than checkups. She couldn’t bear the thought of dragging him into another fray like what had happened with Kanna. Imai wasn’t even sure she would be able to look Hatori in the eye the next evening at the Christmas Eve Party, knowing how she felt for him now. The warmth and comfort Hatori offered was just too tantalizing and Imai knew she would be tempted to see him again and again if she didn’t cut her ties.
Imai contemplated over whether or not to make Hatori hate her, just so that she could get used to being without him before things went too far. Imai felt that her love for Hatori would never be reciprocated due to his lingering love for Kanna and the impending doom Akito would bring if he ever caught word.
When Imai finally arrived back to the main house, cold and numb feet carried her all the way to her futon. She lay down and stared at the ceiling for the rest of the night, casting glances now and again to Hatori’s home. His lights were on well into the night and only when she saw that they had finally gone out did she turn over onto her side and attempt to sleep.
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My, My, Imai! Redux (2019)