When the snow falls, We can only wait for spring
by Polka Dot


There was a pain in his chest and there were tears cascading from his eyes and the odd thing was he didn't know why. He never knew why. It had just always been this way.

Ever since he could remember, but that was an incorrect statement as well. He could remember that it hadn't always been this way. He had been happy not too many years ago. He had enjoyed his job and his family. But things changed and it wasn't a slow change, it was like the world spiraled out of control in the matter of a few months and yet nothing changed in that time. It was all in his mind, but he couldn't stop it. Now he couldn't remember the feeling of better times. He could remember they existed but they didn't feel real.

It was sad, a grown man crying and no longer ashamed of such things. His pain was real, why couldn't anyone see that? He didn't have a big bloody wound, but the pain was settled deep in his heart and it never seemed to go away. It was always there, always crippling him.

He wanted to die but they wouldn't let him. First they drugged him, so that he was there but unaware. Then they ridiculed him for sleeping all the time, missing work, ignoring their words. Conversations he couldn't remember and occasions that he was dragged to against his will.

He stopped taking the drugs, because he was living but he wasn't alive. Then the world came back into focus, all pain once again. He still wanted to die, but they still wouldn't let him. They said that they would be lonely if he died, even though he knew that maybe some of them thought it would be better, easier if he was gone. They didn't say it to his face, but he knew. They talked about him behind his back.

"He's sleeping again."

"I tried talking to him, but he doesn't listen to me. He just sits there and stares at the tv."

"He said he was working on it, but that was weeks ago and he hasn't done a thing."

They said suicide was selfish. They said things would get better one day. He just had to wait it out. It was true that some days were better than others, but it had been years since his life derailed and the pain was always present. The pain never went away. The drugs they gave him changed but they never stay effective for very long and he was still a zombie. He still got tired in the middle of the day.

He could've lived with the insomnia. It was unpleasant but he still managed to get work done and he had a flexible working schedule so it was managable. The anxiety was what truly crippled him. He was so terrified of everything. In the end he was terrified of living. Things had been so bad for so long that if he ever truly overcame this, if he did wake up one day and the pain was gone, how would he ever be able to put his life back together and move on?

It seemed impossible. In truth there were no miracle cures, it would never truly be gone, this pain, but he had to try to live with it, overcome his string of failures and start again. They were pushing him, threatening to throw him out. His mother was weeping. She was suffering as well. It was his fault she suffered, he knew it and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop the pain, the desire for escape. She couldn't stop trying to push him back into life. she couldn't stop caring, though many others had.

So she suffered with him. And the world spiraled out of control.

"I was so happy when you smiled
Your smile pushed through the clouds of gray
far from the sunny days that lie in sleep."

"Waiting with patience for the spring
when the flowers will bloom anew again,
Knowing there's more beyond the pain of today."

"Although the tears of yesterday remain,
you can go on living as much as your heart believes.
We can't be born again, although we can change.
Let's stay together always."

Hatori tapped his pen on the folder a couple of times. Time wore them all down to dull and lifeless puppets. He'd thought Hiro was the luckiest of them all. He's married Kisa, they had eloped despite all of Akito's threats. They had loving parents and were able to establish a normal life for their children. They were the ones that defied the curse and made it in this world despite all the odds. They were the ones that could be held up as an example for the next generation of cursed children. The cock and the cow having already been born. Now the ram would come back into the world and what hope did these children have?

He had figured Kyo as one for suicide. The cat's life was cursed more so than all the others. He'd escaped the cage, with a fall from Yuki, but years later Akito put him in the cage anyway. He didn't stay long, it was obvious that Akito was just being cruel and for once the family banded together against him. Yuki was also one that he expected would be tempted by the promise of oblivion, freedom was torture. Even after he was too strong and old to be Akito's pet, the mental scars caused him extreme pain, but the rat persevered. Momiji's mask of cheer often faltered in the face of his selfish parents. He had heard Momiji shout at his father once, just once. They all wore masks, even Kagura and Hatsuharu hid behind their violent sides, as liberating as they were.

Hatori closed his folder and put it away in its proper place in his filing cabinet. They wanted answers about Hiro, they wanted to know why he had done what he did. Why did he give up? Why had life turned so bleak for him? Hatori had no answers. There were viruses that caused such things, though no true link had ever been established.* Hatori didn't like giving conjecture as fact.

But Kisa wanted an answer. She still loved him despite the divorce, despite the fact that the man she loved had been passed into shadow long before his body died. She wanted an explanation for her children. Life was hard, these things happened. That was a pitiful answer, but it was all Hatori knew.

Hatori knew that the sun shining on his skin was warm and comforting one day and hot and blinding the next. He did not know why the sun never held any warmth for Hiro. He had never been depressed for more than a week or two. Even after Kana left, he had always known their love couldn't last, that she would be torn from him in some way. It was inevitable. Whether that was true or not, his logical mind accepted the fact and he was able to move on. Hiro became stuck somewhere, in some small crack that they all failed to see. It was frustrating as a doctor to know why the body fails, but never understand why the mind does so as well. It's all organic biology.

One day they would know. Somewhere some scientist would figure it out. Maybe someone already had and he would read about it in one of his journals in a year or two. Probably not, not in this lifetime, not that it matters. Hiro was gone. The curse continued for the Somhas, who still had normal human everyday problems to deal with. Rin was leaving against Akito's orders. Kyo was still feeling overwhelmed at getting the dojo's financial records in order after Kazuma's death. The cow's mother was rejecting him.

Hatori stripped to his boxers and wrapped himself in a robe. Was this all there was to life? His bed was empty. His days were filled with nursing a cranky, middle-aged clan head who had a penchant for cruelty. Sigure would be coming for tea tomorrow. Ayame would probably join them. That was enough for him, at least for tomorrow. He had no dreams. He knew his place, accepted it and enjoyed the company of certain family members.

The hour was late, the night dark. If he looked out the window the stars were surely shining. He didn't look. Not tonight, he was too tired, maybe tomorrow. Maybe not. If he looked up he'd look for the ram in the sky. Was it out at this time of the year? He wasn't sure. He didn't think he could handle it if it wasn't. He didn't think he could handle it if it was. Hiro had it all, everything he'd ever dreamed of. Now he had no dreams and Hiro was gone. Hatori crawled into bed and waited for the spring.

*in fact schizophrenia may be the result of a viral infection and therefore can occur in seemingly healthy people unexpectedly.


AN: The song was bridge for the first part and the second. It wasn't admittedly a very good bridge, but I needed something.

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