Disclaimer: Fruits Basket is not and has never been the property of R S Slagondrayer who has not and has never claimed any right to its copyright. All characters are copyright to their respective creators.

Synopsis: The difficulty in writing one's name is in asserting yourself when you're caught in god's entrancing grace.

Warnings: possibility out of characterness (OOC) and confusion, one-shot, villain-centricity and possible sympathy for a non-sympathetic character, writer inexperience, spoilers, 1st Fruits Basket fic, possible British spelling, deliberate abuse of grammar, possibility of disappointed expectations etc.

Special Warning: This fic changes name. The name it has at the beginning 'Autumn God' is not the name it has in the end. Note that this is a fact and must be taken as fact. (Don't scroll down just to see the name, you cheat! )

Read Responsibly.

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Autumn God

By R S Slagondrayer

Sheets of paper lay discarded around the low writing table, discarded as each one held a telling flaw.

It is a presence.

It is a presence that remains with you, slowly filtering into everything you are and do until there is no space left for you. That is what being god is.

A brushstroke glid a black line against the til-then pristine paper, its simplicity belying the control that it had taken to make it.

It is a presence that consumes you inside out, hollowing you out to make room for itself. That is what being god is.

A second brushstroke cut across the first, shaking slightly as control slipped, and illness won out over determination.

It is a presence that becomes you, making you a stranger to all those around you, leaving you with no one except yourself and it. That is what being god is.

A third brushstroke streaked across the page, swiftly, angrily, as though compensating for the lapse in the previous one.

It is a presence that you become, that leaves you only an undesired hatred and bitterness, leaving you wishing for death and the end of everything. That is what being god is.

A fourth brushstroke danced its way along the white surface, bleeding black through it.

It is a presence that erases you, leaving only a husk behind, a home for its parasitic self. That is what being god is.

But I am not a god. Only a woman. I am the one that dies, not it, never it.

A brushstroke weakly crept its way on the page.

I am not a god. Only a woman who can only hope to write her name right one day.

Aki...

I am not ...

Kami...

Another sheet of paper slid off the table to join its companions. 'god' and 'girl' continued their fight on a new page

It Never Ends

'Aki-Kami'

Final Comments:

The synopsis was a little hard to make spoiler-free, and it is a little obscure-ish to my thinking. The lines in the brackets I added later to make it clearer what was going on. To get my real intention for this fic skip them. In the event that you blinked and missed it here's an ultra-explanatory synopsis: Akito is writing her name, which I believe means 'autumn son' and presume uses two kanji. the first Kanji, 'Aki' for 'autumn', she manages to write, but as she writes the second one, she writes the kanji not for 'to' for 'son' but for 'kami' for 'god' making her end up with 'Aki-Kami' which by the way is the name this fic gains at the end.i.e. believe that this fic's name has changed. It is no longer Autumn God as you read these notes but Aki-Kami. When you read it again, read the title. It's becomes Autumn God once again and goes through the whole process.' Why? Because it does. Why shouldn't it? Because it is in the same way she has to fight to remain in the picture...

Autumn God is a reference to the easy dominance of 'god' in Akito's body and 'Aki-Kami' is the result of her efforts to assert herself against it. 'god' is Autumn God, Akito can only manage to bring it down to 'Aki-Kami'. Her effort is such that it transforms the fic into a new title in the end.

Please don't contact me just to tell me 'Aki-Kami' doesn't translate into Autumn God. I know that. I'm not sure but Autumn God should be romanji'd as 'aki no kami'.

Reviews, comments and criticism (vague or constructive) will be appreciated. Lack of will have to be lived with with a great amount of discouragement. Thank you for reading.