I know I've been pretty silent for a while, so I'm offering this as an apology. A short, short fic. I don't know if it's M or not, so I'll keep it at T and see where it takes me. This is AFTER Tohru and Kyo move out of Shigure's house, or (for the anime) AFTER the end. (Happy Belated Birthday, Asan-chan, this one's sort of for you, unless you don't like it.)
Disclaimer: I might own Fruits Basket in a parallel universe, but not this one.
Chapter One
The scorpion fish had been on sale. That was all Tohru could remember clearly. She'd picked up the Styrofoam tray, gasped happily at the price sticker, and placed it in her shopping basket. The young woman shifted in the bed, brown eyes boring tattoos into the blank ceiling above her. The night was stale, too quiet and too pressing for her to sleep within its depths. After that, it was all flashes, scraps of memory playing in an endless loop. The text message on the cell phone--
Tohru looked up sharply as a cheery tune exploded into existence near her. Finally remembering her cell phone, the brunette reached into her bag and fetched out the pink item, flipping it open with an earnestly excited face. Maybe it would be Kagura-chan or Rin, neither of which she saw of anymore since she moved in with Kyo. But it was a text message from Uo-chan. "Hey Tohru-chan, I'm comin' over for some Dai Hin Min. Be sure to be home, scatter-brain!" The cell phone clicked closed, and Tohru went back to her shopping, hurrying to the checkout lanes. She had to get home to prepare some snacks!
She eventually let her burning eyes rest, granting mercy upon the ceiling. Still, her eyes stung, as if she'd been swimming in a chlorine-water pool for hours, gliding underwater with her eyes open. The door to Kyo's and her apartment hanging open--
She stared at the open door, confused. Uo-chan was usually considerate enough to close the door behind her, and Kyo wasn't the type to keep the door open on a hot day such as this. He was too paranoid. Gripping the shopping bag in her left fist, Tohru reached for the doorknob with her right hand and stepped into her home, calling out in a voice much higher than usual, "Kyo! Uo-chan! I'm back! Just let me make some snacks, then we can begin!"
The brunette's mind just wouldn't give her peace. What was she supposed to say? Think? Act like? Feel? A steady voice rose from the hallway and wavered into her room. Tohru could recognize that voice even if she were deaf. It seemed to come to her via her heartbeat, not by her ears. "Machi, I know you don't like it this way, but I was afraid of what she would do to herself if--"
A softer, more persistent voice interjected, "I'm not worried about what she would do, I'm just...I haven't seen you like this before. It's like I don't know you, Yuki. Like I don't, but Honda-san does."
Tohru burrowed under the covers, trying to block the hushed words. Uo-chan now, collapsed on the floor, clothes torn, sobbing into her arm--
The usually vivacious young woman was crumpled on the tatami floor next to the kotatsu, her clothes ripped in several places, like someone had been clutching her with them. The plastic bag slipped out of Tohru's hand, and hit the floor. With the soft "thunk" it made, Arisa Uotoni looked up, eyes wide. She opened her mouth, but another sound distracted her. The blonde turned her head in a flash, eyes widening even more with fear as someone approached her. Tohru scrunched up her face, knowing who it was and praying that it wasn't. "Yankee bitch! Did you think I'd let you off so easily, huh!? You owe this to me, yeah!?" Tohru opened her eyes. She whispered, "Kyo..."
It finally reached her, and Tohru curled together underneath the quilt, quivering with internal sobs. How could he have done this to her? What had she done wrong to displease him to the point of raping her friend? She'd told him she wouldn't have sex until they were married, or at least engaged, but Kyo had agreed with her, saying that the wait made it all the better. Was it her fault, then? Was she the actual problem, the villain? It must have been her! The sobs escalated into sound, and the shaft of light from the hallway grew the silhouette of a young man. He knocked softly on the transom, announcing his entrance to her room. Yuki sat on the end of the bed, asking quietly, "Tohru, are you okay?" The brunette shook her head under the comforter, knowing he wouldn't be able to see it. But she didn't want him to. She felt stupid, silly, and ignorant. Why had she trusted him in the first place? Why Kyo? Why was it Kyo in the end? It hadn't always been Kyo; she knew that. Another flash--
A quiet tear escaped Arisa's dark-blue eye. She said nothing; shaking violently as the young man approached, fly open, face contorted into a snarl, red eyes glinting. She felt him grabbing her, feeling her up, doing what he pleased. And yet, she couldn't say she hadn't known this was within the orange-haired delinquent she'd first met in high school four years ago. Hearing nothing but her irregular breath rattling in her chest and seeing spots, her gaze weakly returned to her best friend. She was frozen at the doorway, something broken in her face. Uo looked up at her sorrowfully, pleading for forgiveness. She hadn't been strong enough...She whispered, "I'm sorry, Tohru-chan..." and blacked out.
Yuki watched his hands in his lap steadily, wondering what the hell he was doing. This was his fault, after all. He'd known Kyo the longest, the best. Yet he hadn't seen this within the stupid cat. And when the time came, he'd given Tohru up, given up his one and only dream, to him. He could've of stopped it, protected her, shown her what Kyo could become. But instead, he'd been selfish, breaking away from the developing couple to shield himself from the pain. He'd told himself so many times that Tohru was a mother-figure, that she saw him as a close friend, and that she loved Kyo so much more. But that one snag, that one confusing thought he'd had as a second year in high school made it impossible for him to believe himself. When Tohru had been running after Kyo, he'd noticed her figure. Even in the darkness, three years later, he blushed. He was still attracted to her, no matter what he tried to ignore it. He fumbled for words, silence bearing down on him. The silver-haired young man asked tentatively, "Tohru...?"
The young woman sniffled, and threw the comforter back, sitting up. And there he was. She sobbed, "Yuki! I-...I think I'm to blame! It was me, wasn't it?"
With that, the brunette sank into his embrace, clinging to his shirt for dear life as the ex-rat awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, pulling away a bit to avoid touching his chest to hers by an old habit. The push--
Uo-chan's eyes flittered closed, and the hideous grin spilled along Kyo's face grew. He began going more roughly, cursing. The next thing she knew, Tohru was across the room, arms thrust out, Kyo flung to the floor by her push. For a moment, there was just the heaving sound of Tohru's breathing, and Kyo managed to pull himself into a vertical position, weak at the joints like a puppet being held up by strings. He turned his head, not knowing what had hit him, eyes moving along the calf, the skirt, and finally her face. She was bent over Uo, carefully buttoning up her shirt, straightening her skirt. He blanched as brown eyes flashed his way, something within the sizzling glare freezing him in his place. Automatically, his hands scrabbled to his fly and zipped it up, trying to avoid those eyes.
She continued to release the fury out onto Yuki's shirt, back shaking underneath his hands. Cautiously, Yuki lifted a hand and stroked her hair calmly, keeping an even rhythm. The brunette pressed in closer, making the space between their chests impossible for the ex-rat to keep comfortably, and continued, "It was me. Me, me, me me me! I didn't see it, and now...and now..."
She lapsed back into violent tears, fingers digging into his shirt's sleeves. Gently, the silver-haired young man began to rock her back and forth, flustered. Another fl--
"Cell phone."
Kyo looked up again, facing Tohru's hand stretched out in front of his face, waiting for him to put something in it. The brunette repeated the demand, her voice sharp and terse. Stammering, Kyo slipped the phone into her hand, and the hand retreated quickly, the movement angry. He gulped in spite of himself. He'd never seen Tohru like this, never. The brunette dialed urgently, and held a quick conversation with someone who was apparently Hatori, then dropped the cell phone onto the kotatsu. See that Uo was properly covered and positioned comfortably, the young woman finally turned to the orange-haired young man sprawled on the floor whose face was still in shock. She shivered, and then said in a low, forced voice, "How. Could. You."
Suddenly, Kyo's dark idea seemed stupid and random, without merit. The beginning of syllables escaped his lips, but nothing else. The glare returned in a high ferocity. "What. Made. You. Think. This. Was. Right."
Only gibberish agreed to come from his mouth.
"So I wasn't enough for you, Kyo? I. Gave. You. Everything. And. I. Wasn't. ENOUGH!?"
Her voice rose, making the ex-cat recoil. Hatori burst through the door with a stone-faced Shigure and Kureno and rushed towards Kyo. Their eyes were flint, sharpened to points. Hatori settled down next to Uo, noting every wound. Tohru finished, "I...YOU DISGUST ME!"
And she ran from the room, leaving Kyo behind. Leaving the rape behind. She just ran. Kyo was escorted quietly from the apartment into the Sohma car, Kureno staying behind with Uo to wait for the ambulance. The young man could remember his mother saying those words to him, Yuki saying those words to him, Akito saying those words to him, him saying those words to Tohru. And now she said those words to him. He dropped his face into his hands. He'd gone in a complete circle again.
Another young woman lingered silently by the doorway of the room, watching the silver-haired young man comfort the brunette. Her face was smooth, blank like a sheet of paper, but her hand were tensed into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms. She'd never seen him this cautious, this gentle, and this awkward. She'd always known that he was still in love with her. After all, how could he not be? She was...She was...She was his light, the warmth that melted his frozen heart. It was because of her that he saw the sun in the rain, saw the blossom in every seed, and saw Machi. Because of her, he'd recognized true love, and from this came his affections. Without Honda-san, Machi knew, she wouldn't be with Yuki.
But Machi also knew one more thing: she was a poser, a replacement in the position that the ex-rat seemed to be saving for someone else. Machi hadn't quite fit, but she was so close he'd accepted her. The young woman turned away from the room and the embrace, biting her lip. Now she knew whom it was for. She walked into the bedroom, glancing at where he'd thrown the blankets aside to run after Honda-san, and swept past into the closet. It was a stupid mistake of hers, falling in love with Yuki Sohma. Just another stupid mistake. She shut the closet door, flicked off the lights, and let the emotions wash her away.
Yuki heard the closet door shut, and looked down, hoping that Tohru was calm enough that he could let go and take care of Machi. But the brunette seemed unable to let go, like he was all she had left to her world. And, in a way, he guessed he was. So, feeling guilty, he stayed, stroking her hair, rocking her back and forth, and trying very hard not to say anything. Opening his mouth would let those rejected words surface again. He heard the closet door open, the front door open, and the footsteps down the stairs.
Yuki glanced down again, realizing that the young woman in his arms was asleep, her fingers wrapped in his shirt, her face nuzzled into the crook of his arm. If it weren't for the redness of her eyes, he'd think she looked peaceful. Carefully, he somehow managed to navigate an arm underneath her knees, and shifted her back onto the sheets. Then he fell forward as well. Bewildered, Yuki froze, bracing himself against jumping out of his skin, and mentally reminded himself to smack his forehead when he wasn't busy. Her fingers! Fumbling, the ex-rat lifted the brunette's fingers away from his shirt and froze once more, calculating his next move. It would be difficult to move away from on top of someone without waking him or her, but he had to try. Muscles tense, he slid his right leg farther off of the bed towards the ground, bringing his left side up. Then it was only a matter of standing up. Relieved, the young man planted his hand somewhere stable, and stood. He let out the pent-up breath, and was above to move away when a very awake Tohru whispered, "Yuki-kun, can you move your hand, please?"
Shoulders hunched, already imagining what and where his hand had landed on the brunette, Yuki slowly turned. Horrified, he stared down at his hand, which was lodged between Tohru's left arm and her…Yuki Sohma, move you hand! NOW! NOW! NOW! Like he had put his weight on a burning stove, Yuki ripped his hand away and tried to slink away with as much of his dignity as possible. She's going to hate me too, just for that. But, to his amazement, Tohru sat up and giggled into her palm. Instantly, all of the stress within Yuki's body washed away, the laughter he thought he'd never hear again lilting through his head. However, the fact remained that once again he'd invaded her privacy. Quickly, he turned around and bowed, stumbling with his, "I-…I apologize!"
Tohru's laughter only increased, and she cried, "Y-Yuki-kun, it's fine! J-Just, the look on your face…!" Her words were sucked back into laughter, leaving Yuki to smile nervously and retreat. An empty bedroom met him, her note on the bed. He didn't read it: he knew what it said. The echo of Tohru's laughter withered within him, and Yuki lay down on the un-made bed, falling into an accusation-ridden nightmare. He awoke suddenly, ten minutes later. Tohru's words rang in his ears, and he recognized them as the same thing he had told her at the hot spring, so many years ago on that White Day. He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn't stay there. Softly, he padded into Tohru's room and lay down on the floor, carrying a pillow with him. The young man gathered the pillow to his chest with his arms, and closed his eyes, waiting for Tohru to ask him what he was doing on the floor. Sleep took over his senses, and Yuki dropped into gentle waves of Tohru's laughter and cold breezes of Machi's voice.