Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Everybody Wants Her ❯ Chapter Twelve - Naming Her For Death Itself ( Chapter 12 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
A/N: Welcome back! We're winding down to the last few chapters now, though what that means in terms of length I can't be sure. I'm thinking three or four, but you never know. Anyway we're coming towards the end. This chapter is also a good deal shorter than the last two…I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but that's how it is. It does mean you'll get to read it sooner, so unless you're one of those folks who likes waiting so long you can't remember what happened the last time, you'll probably be happy about that.
Anyway, in this here chapter they have to find a way to deal with the problem of the little girl's genetics…it's not going to be pretty. Also, there's some stuff about Sohma history in here that's totally made up for the story's purposes. So don't go scouring the manga for a blip of Taeko, because she isn't going to be in there.
So yeah, here's Chapter Twelve for your literary pleasure!
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Everybody Wants Her
Chapter Twelve - Naming Her For Death Itself
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You'd never want to walk in on this.
The baby's here, breathing and her vernix caseosa smeared straight off. Akito ought to be there to cut the cord, soak in the wonder of this newborn life. But he's wailing in the waiting room, throwing magazines around and Hari's had to go in with him, hold him tight `til he calms down. “Is it here?!” he asks, flailing, flare-eyed and hititng Hatori. “Did she crap that little monster out yet?!”
“She's given birth if that's what you mean,” says Hatori, spindly Sohma arms wrapped `round the Lord, huge Hari hands clasped to keep him safe, to contain him. The doctor knows.
Akito struggles, kicks and cries and even bites him, but in the end he's just too scared to try and face her. He's seeing red hair without even knowing, poor Akito's just dissolving into tears again, he's terrified. “You don't want to go in there,” Hari says, face pressed against Akito's hair. When he won't say why Akito asks him, wheedles and pleads and begs on his knees, just tell him, lie to him, anything.
“What's the baby like?” he asks, gripping Hari's hand with a force that pains the both of them. “Does it look like me?”
“She…” What can he say, is he going to lie to the lord now, risk hurting him or what? Hari's seen the little one and she's a spitting image of her dad. There's barely any Tohru-kun in there to balance it, this kid is a female kitty cat, with the same sidelong glance in her narrow eyes. Only a baby and it's obvious, Akito's played no part in her conception. “She's a beautiful little girl, she…she has your feet, I think, she has very long toes…”
And this seems to satisfy him, Aki'll take any scrap he's offered now. He doesn't remember, though Hari does, that Kyo-kun shares those toes as well. Kyo's mother used to crow about it, parental pride overflowing because her newborn, the cat, looked a little bit like Akito. And then Yuki was born and her pride was smashed to bits, poor woman. Yuki-kun was close to a clone, just kinder.
“Does Tohru not want to see me?” Aki asks, calm now, coughing. It's weak at first but he bucks forward, loses himself in the spasms of disease. Hari can't keep hold of him, can't keep him safe from anything. Lying can only protect him for now, Akito will break at the news, he'll die. And he's coughing, he's sick and Hatori's just looking in. Not helping him. It doesn't seem worth it now because nothing compares to what's coming. Maybe Aki needs a little pain to get prepared.
“She's tired,” he tells him, guiding Aki back into the plastic waiting room chair. “Tohru's just had something major happen to her body, so she needs a little rest right now. Sort of like you after you have surgery…remember how exhausted you were after we took that massive tumor out of your stomach?”
It's not the same. They know it's not and there's no comparison, no one signs on willingly for cancer. But Akito just takes it, shuts his eyes and curls fetal in the folding chair. “I don't believe you,” he tells him, melting languid towards the floor. “But I think I'm getting sick again Hari, I feel awful…I can't…” He trails off, takes ages to tell Hatori he just can't deal with this.
“You don't have to,” Hari says, “there's nothing to deal with.”
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Hari drives him home, shunning bumps to save his stomach. Aki's spread out in the backseat shivering, a filthy old blanket tossed on top of him. He coughs nonstop, stains the backseat with blood and Hatori pretends he cares, rails on about the mess of red. But really, he doesn't. Really, all he wants is Akito safe in bed and healing. Home, and he'll take him there, home but he has to leave him. Never mind what Aki's done, when Hari locks the door on his lord he almost weeps. There's no choice, Tohru needs a talking-to, but he can't make himself rehearse it in his head. No, he's stuck on Akito, stuck on his fever and his wracking cough, the tears that fell from bleary eyes when his doctor shut the door.
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Tohru's laying looking washed out on the bed. Staring sleepy at her sweet new girl, fingers pulling through her downy carrot hair. Her smile's wan, her systems satisfied, and Tohru's praising God for keeping Himself out of here. This lovely little one doesn't need a scene like that, not in the first hour or ever, she's too wonderful, too fragile and cute to endure her mother's dearest love.
Look at her. Ten translucent fingers, ten long little toes curling out to catch the world. Four limbs and a tight little torso, that hair, god look at that hair. It's terrifying yes, but it's intoxicating too, so odd on an Asian baby. God just look at this pink-faced little wonder, perfect in every single way except her DNA. Akito'll hit the roof, Akito'll shit a brick but Tohru-kun's too blissed out now to care. This baby. This drop-deard gorgeous little girl.
Hatori slinks in, bowed low with the gravity of what's been going on. “Tohru-kun,” he says, ditching the greeting because he's got to get to the point, fly home fast to tend to Akito. But discretion plays a part here, he can't just plow right in and hurt the girl. He hasn't got a clue how to pace this, Hari's stuck for a minute just fumbling. “Tohru-kun…”
“Oh, hello Hatori-san!” she says, smiling wider than her tired lips allow. “This is Kyoko. I guess she's your niece…some amount of times removed…I'm not sure how it works really, but anyway, she's family. Isn't she beautiful?”
“Kyoko?” Hari snaps, eyebrows raised in near disgust. “Tohru you've got to be kidding me.”
“Is something wrong?” she asks, purposely oblivious, Christ of course she knows the kid just stinks of Kyo. But she's found a way to work around it, a foolproof theory even she believes in. “Don't be silly,” giggles Tohru-kun. “Kyoko was my mother's name, I'm just naming her after her grandma…she had red hair too you know. I think it's just a recessive gene or something…nothing to do with Kyo-kun…I didn't do anything with him, I told you that.”
“The tests,” he says, creaking bedsprings as he sits down. “I never actually dealt with the DNA, that's not really in my expertise…but your daughter is much healthier than she would be if Akito…I don't want to accuse you of any sort of infidelity, and you don't need to tell me what you have or haven't done with Kyo. But whatever the truth about this kid is, Akito can't know. Does that make sense to you Tohru, can you understand why?”
She nods, a brief dip of the head that betrays a fraction of her dip in mood, the endorphins she's been swimming in have left her now for dead. “Yes,” says Tohru, “yes I do.”
“And do you understand why you absolutely cannot, under any circumstances name this child Kyoko?”
“No,” she tells him, knowing full well that the Sohma sees their cat, that Akito won't get the mother thing. But the woman's dead and here's this girl, this sacred little sacrifice to the worst loss in her life. How can she not call her Kyoko, how can she just let her mother go?
And Hatori, how's he supposed to respond without badmouthing Akito, without telling her he likely doesn't know her mother's name? And if he does he'll just hear Kyo, just flip out, cry and try for suicide? What the hell, he might kill Tohru, throw the infant out the window because the man is that unstable, he's mad. “Tohru-kun…” he says, voice catching on the truth and he just can't say it, can't tell her what an awful choice she's made.
And Hatori, how's he supposed to respond without badmouthing Akito, without telling her he likely doesn't know her mother's name? And if he does he'll just hear Kyo, just flip out, cry and try for suicide? What the hell, he might kill Tohru, throw the infant out the window because the man is that unstable, he's mad. “Tohru-kun…” he says, voice catching on the truth and he just can't say it, can't tell her what an awful choice she's made.
But Hari doesn't have a choice. If she doesn't get it she'll just blab, bring the three of them to ruin. And the rest of the Sohma might feel this too, get caught in the crossfire of Akito's rage. They've suffered enough, Akito's suffered enough. “Tohru I…you have to understand that he…”
Tohru tips her head, stares into the storm of Hari's eyes. He can't say it and she's swamped in denial, but she knows. She knows she has to let go of the past, let go of her mother on this because the present's more important, her daughter and her Aki meaning more than Mom. “Okay,” she says, wreathing fingers through the baby's hair. “I…I'll talk to Akito…we'll figure out a different name…and I'll tell him the hair came from my mom, it'll be easy, right, since it's just the truth?”
“Right,” says Hatori, not wanting to damage the delusion. She may as well live her life wrong instead of lying.
Tohru smiles, mimics joy as she stares down. The whole scene just breaks Hatori's heart, because he knows how most of the Sohma has believed in her. This is the girl who's face was meant to break through clouds, to shake up the family and make things right. But here she is with the dear lord's life in her fragile hands, Tohru-kun could break him with a single word. And all these hopes of salvation are going to have to be re-routed, funneled into the fear of `will she tell?' There's no more magic now, no more everybody wanting her. She's done.
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He drives her home at nine that night, drops her off in Aki's room and Hatori's on standby, ears open by the door in case of the inevitable. He's prepared for the worst, he's used to it.
Tohru pads in softly, flicks the lamp and tries to calm her fussing newborn, to soothe her Akito who's writhing at the light. “Do you have another migraine?” she asks him, free hand playing with his hair. Aki nods, moans for pity as he struggles up to look at her. His vision's blurred and he's not seeing it, the presence of the young one just escapes him now.
But then the hair jets out, a bright menace in the dimness of his room. He's seeing feline, seeing Kyo, no word out of Tohru's mouth can fix this. He's shaking at the thought of explanations, needing to hurt her first before she blares the truth. She's betrayed him, banged the cat and there's no barriers, nothing now, that goddamn child's hair is his.
He reaches for her, reels back with the flat line of pain piercing past his left eye. “Put the baby down,” he tells her, as low and cruel as he can be through the swelling tears. When Tohru doesn't obey he commands it, screams “PUT THE BABY DOWN!”
And she does. The nameless infant's laid down on a chair, bawling her lungs out because she's just not thrilled with all this noise. Tohru swallows as she stares at him, takes a breath to launch into her pre-written justification. Aki's shuddery glare shuts her up, Tohru can't speak with him staring at her.
Aki's on her in a flash, ripping hair and slapping face, fighting like a girl `cause he's too weak to go all out, she's just given birth and he doesn't really want to hurt her. He wants her dying, bleeding on the floor for him but not…not hurt. Not really truly damaged and he's in check for this, his temper in control.
It won't stay that way. Tohru holds out her arm for him, fends him off with his name in scars. She thinks that this explains itself, that Akito will feel her love and know she'd never do what she's done to him. But the whole things twisted in his head and the scars just seem obscene now. He knows what she's done and she's mocking him.
“You did it,” he says, coughs pitching him forward and there's blood down his face, falling with small plops into his shaking hands. It's funny now and he's hysterical, suffering laughter to the point where he can't breathe. When he's caught the air he grins at her, says, “to think, I actually believed in you. I thought you were going to make my life worth living, because you loved me. I should have known it was a lie. I should have known you were nothing but a whore.”
That isn't what he meant to say. Akito wants to fall apart here, rail at the unfairness of the life he's forced to slog his way through, the brutal cave-in of the only thing he thought would make him happy. But all he can do is call her a prostitute, tell Tohru she's to blame for everything. “How could you do this?” he demands, weak little hands putting pressure on her wrists, he's trying hard to twist this, break her.
But he's too weak.
“I didn't!” she lies, snatching her hand away from his, taking control by trying to hold him. He shoves her away, tires himself to the point where dizziness carries him down, his head hits the bed and it's too much just to look at her. She didn't.
“Just go back to him,” he tells her, face down and he's coughing hard. “You two, you fucking deserve each other. You're a braindead slut and he's the cat, he's a monster. I'm a monster, and you…” He stops. It's too much, that sentence just executes his spit-seared throat. His voice runs dry and he rasps with every word. “You were with both of us…you're an idiot…”
“I wasn't with him,” she says, shakes her head and keeps it up until he listens. She cups his bloodstained face in her hands, tongues him just to prove her point. “I visited Kyo-kun once or twice once he was locked up, just to keep him from getting too lonely. But we were never together; I never did anything with him. I have you, I'm mad for you Akito…”
“Explain the hair then!” he shouts, shoving Tohru-kun away from him. “Explain her eyes, explain this fucking baby if you didn't bang him! I'm impotent Tohru, I'm way too sick to get you pregnant!”
“It's possible,” she says, holding him again and he'd do anything to want to fight it, do anything to want to rid himself of warmth. “It can happen Akito, and the red hair comes from my mother. Did you ever see a picture of her? Our little girl just looks like her grandmother, that's all.”
“Bullshit,” Aki spits, in hell because he can't believe this, can't keep himself happy on her lies. “She looks like Kyo, she's a fucking female clone. If she were mine she'd look something like me, I don't see anything. Hari said something about the feet but that's not…”
He just breaks down then, Aki can't keep playing the frigid Hari-role. Okay so he's cursing, okay he's raised his voice. But all he wants to do is cry right now, melt into Tohru's arms and let her fix him. He wants to believe the baby's his, wants to hurt her for leaving when he needs her just to keep on breathing. He's heaving his sobs and Tohru's barely moved, barely even sympathetic. It's legit but she's exhausted, she doesn't care now why her Aki wants to die.
It takes some time to calm down but he does it, Akito succeeds in shutting down his feelings.
He swivels his stiff neck towards the child, asks if he can hold her, feel her up for proof of common blood. Tohru brings her over, says she'll need to feed her soon. “You might not want to watch, I mean it's a bit well, revealing, but I guess you've seen worse, right?” She laughs at this, makes all their moments and connections seem like cheap little paid for skanking. Both of them are feeling filthy, whorish and beat up and used.
“Let me hold her,” he cajoles, and soon he's cuddling a newborn. She's fussing and her eyes are pools of Kyo, her mouth twisted in the same raging smirk he always wears when he's in combat mode. For one deluded moment Aki thinks that she can beat him, in one crazy second he slaps the baby's face, screams at her not to look at him like that.
“Oh Christ,” he moans when he sees the stricken look in the eyes of his bee. The little girl's shrieking, twisting away from her pain-spilling possible dad. “Take her,” Aki says, choking back a sob and looking down. “I'm sorry.”
“It…it's okay Akito,” she tells him, biting her lip to keep from breaking into tears. This man, this person that she's pledged to love just hit a baby, her baby, their baby and how can she trust him now? It's one thing to snake his whips at Yuki, one thing to mash a vase in Hari's face, one thing to beat on Tohru when she's pregnant but this—this she can't forgive. Not where it counts she can't, not in Tohru's strained and mottled heart. But she'll fake it, switch the subject to the baby's name. “I don't have any ideas,” she says, shoving Kyoko to the side for the sake of Aki the abuser.
“We should have talked about this earlier,” grumbles Akito, hand to his eyes as he tries to curb the headache's spread. They've been isolated, in denial, the practical just hasn't come up all that often. “I had something in mind though,” he tells her, reaching for her hand because he's just so scared of losing her. “I wanted to name her after somebody I really admire…she was one of the few girls cursed like me, her name was Taeko.”
“Alright,” says Tohru, liking the name and not wanting to fight, not wishing more bruises on her baby girl. “Taeko it is, Sohma Taeko. I guess I'll take care of the birth certificate now…” She's about to step out, stay alone with her girl for time and hope that Akito believes her. But he grabs her skirts with an arm convulsing, begs her feebly not to go away.
“I'll feeling really bad,” he tells her, milking the physical though it's absolutely true, he doesn't think his emotions even matter to Tohru-kun right now. He's hit her kid, wrecked everything with an impulsive thwack of the hand. She hates him, she's better off with Kyo because he's evil. “I…I might need you to go get Hatori…”
“Okay,” says Tohru, too in-tune to him to think this means he doesn't need her, too devoted just to leave her lover suffering. Tohru crawls in close, sticks squirming Taeko on the side away from Akito. When his eyes flutter shut she scoops the newborn up, heads out to let Hatori take her place for the night. Tohru leaves them, stalks to Hari's office to check the origins of Taeko's name.
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Since the family's so mired in the medical, every scrap of Sohma record's squirreled away safe in Hari's office. Tohru knows this due to Yuki, who showed her old photo albums and the like when they were bored. The Sohma saves and what Tohru finds is a filing cabinet full of junk, unorganized and hard to sift through. But she does it all with Taeko in her lap, culls through centuries of Sohma lore in only hours.
After a time she finds her target, a faded photo and a vague narrative history. Sohma Taeko was a pixie-thin brunette with missing teeth and a pained expression. She was born in 1946, fatherless at birth and sick as hell. Her dad had been the only head to unintentionally outrun his illnesses, in 1945 he'd gone to Hiroshima to see some sort of specialist, (apparently the blood issue hadn't occurred to these long-ago Sohmas) and died in the August blast, his body too far gone for even burial. His newly conceived little girl grew up to take his place, as did his wife with the bitter depression heads inherit. Taeko's maladies were painful ones, harsher than even Akito's have been, and her mother Miho walled her off in a room alone, claiming not to be worthy of God's presence, but honestly just looking to avoid her. The girl was so isolated that she never even learned to speak.
Fed up with feeling sick and fed up with her mother, Taeko took her life in 1952. Guns hung around in the house, the current cow's father was a war-crazed veteran, a paranoid, shrieking weapon-waver. Somehow the six-year-old got her hands on a shotgun, and blew her brains out on one smoggy summer night. The rest of the Sohma passed without notice, Taeko's death swept them up like a plague before they managed a replacement.
This is the girl that Akito admires, the girl he wants his pseudo-newborn named for. The thought shudders straight through Tohru-kun, makes her clutch the child tighter to her chest. This voiceless girl led a brutal life, like Akito, and maybe he sees the death as a stand, a protest that this whole thing is an outrage. Taeko probably didn't know she'd take her family with her, and maybe Aki envies her that lack of guilt. But all she did was kill herself, end pain when she could have been brave and kept on. Tohru doesn't get it, can't see a world where you just give up, where all you want is blank euphoria, morphine-hazy nothing without the threat of waking. Tohru doesn't want to name her girl for death itself, Tohru doesn't get her Aki's motivation. But she's Taeko if she doesn't want to make him cry, Taeko if she cares about her safety.
Tohru's clueless, drained, and there's little to do but try and take care of her baby. Taeko's squalling and she needs to eat, Aki's calling and poor Tohru's got to go to him.
Who do you go to when everybody needs you? How do you decide who to sacrifice?
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Nana: Here's hoping you enjoyed that. Yep, Akito's really stooped that low, he hit a baby who was born yesterday. And there's going to be a lot more baby-hitting later on. You think Aki was mean here, just wait until Chapter Thirteen. Also, Kyo will be making his return into the story in either Thirteen or Fourteen, depending. But don't worry Kyo fans, he'll be here soon.
Oh! On a side note, happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it. To you non-Americans and you living-in-America-but-don't-celebrate-Thanksgiving-for-various-cultural-rea sons folk, have a happy Thursday! And if there are any Canadians, happy month-late Thanksgiving! Basically, everybody just have a great day. Now be sure to leave me lots of reviews so I have an extra something to be thankful for…hey stop looking at me like that you single future reader who dredged this up from the archives, I don't care if it's April now!
Bye!