Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Everybody Wants Her ❯ Chapter Two - Sickly Boys Unite! ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: Howdy do and welcome to chapter two! Thanks to everyone who read and extra thanks to those who left reviews. Same rules apply as in chapter one, and I'm hoping you enjoy it!
I realized that I forgot a disclaimer. It's fairly obvious that I don't own Furuba, but I may as well say it for legal purposes and out of respect for Takaya-san. And all those other people whose names I don't know. Anyway, Furuba's not mine. Believe me, it'd be a very different series if it was, and probably no fun for anybody but the die-hard Akito fangirls.
 
~`~`~
 
Everybody Wants Her
Chapter Two - Sickly Boys Unite!
 
~`~`~
 
Akito blinks himself out of a sleepless nap, shades his eyes against the sunlight. His stomach is tumbling around his torso, getting pummeled by the other organs. He doesn't care, it doesn't matter because tomorrow will be here soon.
Tomorrow looms large in Akito's head, he's been empty, dead for days and finally something's about to happen. Darling Yuki's taken ill and Akito thinks this is hilarious. He wants a contest, wants to prove himself the sickest one of all. Yuki's asthma seems lame in light of Akito's tome-like medical history.
But that's not really what he wants from Yuki.
What he wants is Tohru, the indirectness of her body brushing past Yuki's in the hall. Surely they've talked, shared meals together. They've been breathing the same air, though Tohru far more skillfully than Yuki-kun. It'll be like having her close to him, like loving her in a half-assed way. He can touch Yuki, let his fingers graze his skin. Hell, he can shag the boy silly is he so desires. No one would stop him, his conscience can't exist any less than it does now. This is the closest he'll ever come to Tohru-kun, the closest to redemption he deserves. He could summon her so easily, force her to come but he can't. He wants to be worth it for Tohru.
Something twists in Aki's stomach, rises and sends him scrambling for the bathroom. He hunches over the toilet, hacks up puke in pain `til Hari pokes his head in. “Are you alright?” he asks, moving towards him with a pen in hand. “Can you describe your symptoms?”
“I'm puking my fucking guts out!” Akito snaps and heaves again, slides limply to the tiled floor. “My stomach hurts Hatori, that's about it.”
“Are you sure? Any fever? Vertigo? Trouble breathing? Anything?” Hatori uncaps his pen and gets ready to take some notes.
“You just want me to die, don't you?” Akito pouts, wiping sweat from his face, exhausted. “How come? How come you're always on the look out for something fatal? It doesn't seem right to me.”
“I am merely trying to arrive at an appropriate diagnosis so I can treat you,” says Hatori, blank-faced and blank-voiced. He doesn't want to get into this, doesn't want to fight with Akito tonight. “I'm a doctor, that's my job and I certainly don't want you sick. That just gives me a whole lot more work to do.”
“So that's all I am to you, a job?” Akito spits, not sure why he wants to antagonize. He hasn't the energy, the desire to fight but he's pissed, he needs to know how Hari feels and he needs to tell him that he's wrong. If he doesn't cement this dying kinship then he'll never fall asleep. “Is that it Hari, you don't give two shits about me, its just your fucking paycheck. If I die it only matters because then you're out of a job.”
Hatori sighs, stands up. He totally avoids the topic, tells Akito to get to bed. “Those floor tiles can't be comfortable, and you need your rest, as always.” He means to leave it at that, usher the kid into bed as he often does. But Aki's focused his gaze on him and he's glaring, narrowing his great gray eyes. “Look,” he says. “I don't get paid. You know that, the family budget isn't big enough for that. I'm doing this because you need me and so does the rest of the family.”
“That's not good enough!” snarls Akito, falling into a coughing fit soon after. Hari makes a note to check his lungs, make sure the hacking precedes nothing too serious. And all he wants is to keep that train of thought, lose himself in technicalities and forget the human being. But he can't because Akito's this close to pleading, this close to passing out.
He tells him: “Yes I know.”
“So tell me something better Hatori!” Akito yelps this grabbing Hari's wrists, but Hari turns it around fast and grabs Akito, guards nervously against the building rage. He knows what to say, knows what will appease Akito, but he's not sure how true it is, not sure if he can lie to him.
But watching Akito changes his mind.
He's shaking, throwing his all into standing up. His eyes look pried with tape and he's sweating, frantic and Hari can't do this to him anymore. “I love you,” he says, and pecks his cheek too fast for either one to feel it. “You're my cousin.”
“That's not…good enough…” he tells him, body pitching back and Hari runs around to catch him. He stares down at the poor dazed boy, shakes his head because what's good enough is something he can't give. He carries him and lays him down, tucks him into the big and lonely bed.
“Good night Akito,” he says and the boy starts to cry, clutches Hari's hands and begs him not to go.
“You can't…you can't leave me…” he moans, tears streaming shamelessly down his bleach-white face. “Don't…please don't.”
Hari sighs, sits down and asks Akito just what's wrong. “I've been gone all day and you've been fine,” he tells him, trying to remind the boy that yes, he is alright alone. “This isn't any different.”
Akito grabs at Hatori, flings himself and latches on, screams “God god don't leave me!” He knows he isn't getting his point across with this, knows that Hari can't sympathize unless he understands. But he lacks the energy to articulate, all he does is moan and scratch the poor man's arms.
“Stop it Akito!” Hatori snaps, wrenching his wrecked-up arms away. Akito crashes hard onto the bed, curls in a ball and cries to himself. “You're behaving like a child.”
“I don't want to sleep by myself…” he whispers, voice choked with flowing tears. “N-nobody loves me except `cause they have to…I have…n-no impact, no…no one even cares and what if I die while I'm sleeping alone?”
Hatori ignores the mewling, tries to shut out the angsty whines. Sympathy is far from second nature, healer though he is he finds it hard to care. Akito tosses in the bed and says his stomach hurts, he knows this will bring better help than fear or emotion. And it does, Hari's medicating him within minutes, telling him the pain should stop soon. “Please be on your best behavior when Yuki comes tomorrow,” Hatori asks, scared to death of the stress Akito will pile on the poor boy.
“I can't, I don't want to see him anymore…” Akito moans, knowing now that Yuki cannot, will not fix him. The child hates him and that's the last thing in the world he wants right now. Sick though he is Yuki could have found some courage over at Shigure's. He might finally stand up to his abuser, spit I hate you in his face. And Akito can't take that, now or ever, he needs Tohru to make things right. She's magic.
“Please tell me that's not a command,” Hatori says, not sure whether to go beneath his dignity and beg. “I've already explained why Yuki needs this…you of all people should get it and give him a break.”
“Why?” shrugs Akito, calm because he wants to fight, wants to argue and forget the world for just a moment. “I don't have asthma.”
“No, you don't, but you are ill, and would you really want to live in a place that made it worse?”
Akito shakes his head, knows he's right and isn't quite too proud to admit it. He wipes his face on his yukata, says, “I just don't think I can handle seeing him. I was looking forward to it before but…he hates me. He has every right but he hates me and I can't…” He coughs, stalls for time while he tries to make this fair. Nothing comes and all he can say is he can't see Yuki, he'll command it if he has to, Hari will have to turn the boy away.
But Hatori just stares him down, a withering look in his working eye. He could have called him selfish, lectured him to death but he's quiet, Hari doesn't say a word. Akito can't scream at the silence, can't respond without sounding insane. “Fine!” he bursts, unable to put up with Hari's passive strategy. “Fine fine fine, the little rat can stay here forever if that's what Doctor Hatori prescribes! I don't care, you guys do whatever the fuck you want and leave me out of it! I'm going to bed!” With that he shuts his eyes, feigns sleep until Hatori steps softly out. When the doctor's gone Akito sobs into the empty space beside him, pretends it's Tohru's hair.
 
~`~`~
 
Breaking the news to Yuki isn't easy. He wants it way less than Akito ever could, he's rather like a Holocaust survivor being told that actually, the concentration camp is good for him, and he'll have to head back there right away. Hatori's used to handing down bad news though, and he's good at ignoring bad reactions. Yuki could piss and moan for centuries and still not get his way.
And Tohru's far from thrilled as well. She's ignorant of specifics, Yuki wouldn't break her pretty mind with pain. But she knows that something bad went down in Akito's house, that Yuki's closed down and sad because of it. She can't believe that this could help him, insists that yes, they can sterilize the place in hours, make things fine for Yuki but they can't, she knows they can't and there's no real choice anymore.
Yuki packs his bags with Tohru's help, gives them hasty hugs goodbye. Akito's waiting up for him, standing on the porch—he won't sit and Hari's said that, they've got to hurry the farewells along. Kyo stays in the house tuned into music, his ears aching with the volume he needs to block out thought. Tohru gives Yuki box after box of home-cooked food, kisses his cheek like a mother, and Shigure just waves and wishes him luck.
Hatori loads up the car, ushers Yuki in and they drive away, simple as that and Tohru bursts, falls to her knees in tears because it hurts so much to see him go. Optimism's gone from her, she thinks she'll never see the boy alive again. She gets her comfort from Shigure, every bit because Kyo will not come out.
 
~`~`~
 
Yuki steps out into the searing sun, lugs his bags and his lungs seize up, he can't breathe and it's hard because this isn't foolproof. “Damn it,” he says when he's had his meds, when the minor attack is over. “I thought I wouldn't be having any more attacks once I came here. Wasn't that the whole point?”
“Yes, but Yuki nobody gave you permission to carry your bags. They're heavy and its too much work in your condition.” Hari takes the stuff and even he has trouble, honestly he's never carried anything heavier then Yuki-kun. “This may take a while,” he warns, grunting with the effort of doing all the work. Yuki runs ahead, dead set on proving he's not an invalid. But he has to slow down before he gets to Akito; the sight of him is enough to stop anyone's air.
He's just standing there.
Staring.
Eyes jetting straight ahead into Yuki's soul.
“Oh my god,” he says, chest heaving with the effort of breathing. “Oh my god Hatori I can't do this, I can't please please take me home…” Tears slip from his eyes and his heart is racing, he's grabbing Hari's arm and the man's just telling him to breathe.
“Don't speak,” he says. “You'll waste oxygen.” Cold, god he's cold and all Yuki wants is to run the hell out of here, high on the speed of his deficient organs. He can't, Hari's got him tight around the waist and he's too weak to run from anything.
“I see you brought him,” Akito calls out, stony from the porch. He's gripping the railing so tight his hands are like Christmas, all red palms and snow-white knuckles. His teeth grind down and he's furious, he's been standing, waiting for hours and his legs hurt, his stomach hurts and he should have just stayed in bed. But he can't, he has to welcome his sickly little rat back home.
“Yes,” says Hatori, dragging Yuki's bags in one by one. Akito makes no move to help him, knows he'd be pushed aside if he tried.
“I don't suppose you've missed me,” Akito says, trying to keep the annoyance, the pure exhaustion far away. He trudges towards Yuki, every step like lead for both of them. Yuki tenses up, watches the world for a way to escape. All he sees is what Aki's done to him, the hot snaking slap of the whip at his legs. His skin still burns in wiry stripes when he remembers.
Akito smirks. “No, no I guess you haven't. You never were much of a masochist.” With that he wraps arms around his Yuki-kun, soaks in the warmth of the boy wooden with terror. “But you're home. I have missed you.”
“I uh…I, I, I…” Yuki stammers, shaking with what he cannot say. Hatred has no place here, Aki's melting in his body and Yuki just leta this happen, doesn't even try to push him off. “I…”
“I know Yuki,” says Akito, smug with scarcely a clue what Yuki meant to say.
Minutes pass with Akito plastered on, Yuki too scared to shrug him off. Finally he gets the air, the nerve to speak his mind, and he tells Akito that he's one here because he's sick. “I don't want to go back to the way things used to be. Please don't think that's why I'm here.”
“I know that, Yuki-kun,” he says, voice sweet with the shock of what he knows. It takes a lot to hammer painful news into Akito's head, and the fact that Yuki hates him is a blow every time. At least he didn't come out and say it, at least Akito doesn't have to fall apart in front of him. “I'm sorry you're unwell,” he whispers, tongue flicking Yuki's ear as he talks. “But a month or two with me and you'll be good as new. Whatever problems you have will pale in comparison to mine.”
Yuki nods, he knows this is true and doesn't quite care. Akito's away from him, flouncing off to fling himself on Hatori. Yuki can sink to his knees now, sit in shock that he's alive.
 
~`~`~
 
The second Tohru stops her crying she's inside, mop in hand and bucket by her side. “The sooner we finish the sooner Yuki comes home,” she says, swishing the sopping thing around on the kitchen floor. Kyo nods, yawns and tromps right over her hard work.
“I'm hungry,” he says, which in Sohma-speak means `make me dinner.' He doesn't want Tohru cleaning, breaking her back for Yuki's sake, but she won't rest and she won't relax, she may as well kill herself over Kyo instead.
Sure enough she throws down the mop, starts up a complicated meal because instant ramen is beneath her, leftovers a sin. When its served she's sorry, bowing her head because she doesn't think it's quite as good as usual. She's right, it's only decent but Tohru's stressed, it's understandable. “Sit down,” Kyo says. “Eat with me.”
Tohru smoothes her dress, nods her head and obeys him. “Kyo-kun I…” she trails off, plays with her hair while she screws up her nerve. “I just wanted to tell you that I'm so sorry for how I treated you yesterday. It wasn't right and I know you were just trying to make me feel better…I know you don't like Yuki-kun. I was just so worried about him, I wasn't thinking. You're not mad at me, are you Kyo-kun?”
He's quiet for a while, chewing. He doesn't know if he keeps her waiting for the food in his mouth, or if its just the fact that he is annoyed, he doesn't like getting turned down and rejected. She doesn't bring up the kiss and Kyo doesn't know how to work around it, what to say that's unconnected. Finally he says, “I'm not mad at you,” and they slurp down their soba in silence.
It's awkward as hell.
“I wonder where Shigure is?” Tohru says, unconcerned but she'd do anything to kill the quiet, anything to talk to Kyo again. The kiss occurred in crisis, she figures he hadn't meant to do thing. If they could just sweep it under the carpet and forget they'd all be better off.
But Tohru plans to air the carpets out this evening. Unless they mean to talk it out, that idiom is a failure. She wants to bring it up, get an explanation but she's paralyzed, can't say a thing on the subject at all. “I haven't seen him since Yuki left,” she says, back to Shigure again. “Where do you think he could be?”
“Don't know, don't care,” Kyo growls. Tohru blinks, looks hurt and he tells her he's sorry again. “Look Tohru…” he says, scratching idly at his neck. “I'm not mad at you but…are you mad at me? I mean I was kind of an asshole. My uh….timing was off. By a lot. I was a jerk so…I'm sorry? Are you pissed? You can be, if you want, you can, y'know, yell at me. It'd be okay.”
Tohru shakes her head with vigor, sucks down soba to avoid responding. After a while the trick gets old, and its Tohru's turn to talk. “You didn't do anything wrong…I mean, you could have been a bit more sensitive about Yuki but…that's just how Kyo-kun is!” She smiles now like that's a good thing, finishes up the food she's made.
“The kiss,” he says, frustrated beyond tact at this point. “I'm asking you about when I kissed you. Was that okay? Is it something you'd let me do again?
Tohru's face turns bright brick red, her hands flutter as she searches everywhere for words. “Bad timing Kyo-kun,” she tells him, resting on the final phrase. “Like you said.”
Kyo can't believe it; he's shocked out of his skull that maybe Tohru wants him back. She smiles from across the table, says, “And now's bad timing too.”
“What?” he snaps, too quick to rage and not thinking. “What do you mean, that fucking rat's not here so what's stopping us? If you want me then do something about it damn it!”
And she just flashes that blank smile back at him, rubs her eyes and tells him god she's tired, just look at the time it's seven-thirty. “Don't change the subject,” he scowls, grabbing at her dishwater-stiff hands. Are those hands enough to need her less, are they reason enough not to let rejection crush him?
Hell no. He's not that shallow.
“I…I'm really tired Kyo-kun,” protests the girl but no one cares. Kyo doesn't buy it, she can stand to stay up if its true.
“Talk to me,” he tells her, rubbing her callused housewife hands. Guilt fills him when he feels them, he knows he throws the girl's small life away each time he asks for dinner. “Just tell me what you want.”
“I don't know…” she whimpers, staring at the ground with half-closed eyes. A part of her wants Kyo, wants anyone, but most of her wants Yuki. He's all that's on her mind, all that's in her thoughts and she can't be sure if that's because she fears for him or what. But Kyo looks desperate, she does want him and she can't quite say no. She does love him, in her way. Maybe she can take that ordinary love and make it mean something.
“Look Tohru, you've got to tell me something,” Kyo-kun says, grinding teeth in irritation. “It's not fair to keep me hanging, y'know?”
“I…I want to…” she starts, still not sure because she hates to lie, hates to turn him down and she just has no clue what to do or feel. “Be with…you…”
And he stands up, runs and reaches for her, clings hard as he can without the curse kicking in. And he says, “Oh thank god.”
Tohru-kun just shuts her eyes, lies to him while he strokes her hair. She can make it true if she tries.
 
~`~`~
 
Nana: Raise your hand if you're confused! Don't worry if you are, things will be cleared up in time if I catch them. Please feel free to ask me about what doesn't make sense so I can be sure to clarify it later on. All constructive criticism is appreciated, as are compliments. (It's beyond me what kind of author doesn't like those.) Anyway, yeah, so I'll have chapter three up as soon as its written, and I hope you enjoyed Sickly Boys Unite!