Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Extra ❯ Chapter 1

Lila got up from the couch and laid her volume of Fruits Basket on the coffee table.

Her least favorite movie, Interview With a Vampire, was playing on the tevee and so she decided to go to bed. She walked down the hall and turned slowly to survey her room.

The wall was adorned with several anime posters, mixed in with Japanese brushwork: her pieces, clumsy though they were, and also pieces she'd picked up.

She slipped underneath the covers.

In an effort to go to sleep, she tried to write a fanfiction. It usually worked…

Her last thought was

What would happen if I really did fall into their world?

~0~

When she woke up she was wet all over.

She could smell a horrible, salty fragrance that overwhelmed her…the sea. She was tossed and rolled over and over, unable to open her eyes in the horrible stagnant water that whirled around wood and rock, beating and pounding and slowly, playing with her in the way of a predatorious cat, slung her onto sharp rocks and sticky dirt; and beside her more like her; stiff: dead. Somewhere, she picked up a voice.

“'Bye, Shishou!” /I'm dreaming/, she thought. /It can't possibly be real, but why can I feel pain?/

A squelch. Mud…

Clatters…rocks…

/Please,/ she thought, /No…don't let him see me. Maybe if I wiggle around in the mud…/ Wiggling hurt. A lot. She whimpered reflexively, not bothering to cover her mouth. /I'm done for./ Squelching. A pit-pat, pit-pat…

“Stupid rain…” There was an audible gasp as she felt a second presence. “@$#%*&!! No way!!!” A cold, clammy finger brushed her side. “Still breathing…I can't just leave her.” She was lifted. Cradled, the way she did with her cat Lilly. /But how…/ The rhythm of steps put her very quickly to sleep.

~0~

When the wet hit her again, she woke up and found herself in non-stagnant, very warm water.

A hot, somewhat fuzzy, fabric-y presence touched a cut on her leg. It was soapy and hot, and it hurt quite a bit. She yelped, opening her eyes wide and trying to spread her limbs out, to push away whoever she was very obviously in a bathtub with. All she could do of that was see the person, since her body was not responding to anything that involved moving.

Pretty soon, her heart wasn't either.

Red hair.

Okay, orange hair.

She stared, she couldn't help it.

An irritated expression crossed the face that she stared at.

Her eyes widened in fear. What if she'd run out of luck? Somebody who broke ceilings on a regular basis was not one to irritate.

The expression softened.

“Ssssh. Hold still, I'm trying to help.” Most of her muscles slackened completely. She fell in a heap into the warm, soapy, stinging water. “Good.”

The warm water, and the protectiveness of the arms that kept her still, and the slow rhythm of a soaped-up cloth brushing the crud from her skin made her fall asleep, even though it was the last thing she intended to do.

~0~

“!” There was a pull on her elbow, and smaller tugs after. Her voice sounded horrible.

“Sorry.” He looked up at her, just finishing tying a knot in a long, white sock that covered what seemed to be her arm. “We ran out of bandages…” Similar things covered her other limbs. She stared at him, trying to figure out why he was being so nice. What was she that he would do all this for?

Then she saw it.

He'd sat down, and was stringing plain wooden beads onto a piece of string.

A bracelet.

Round beads.

She turned her head to look at her body…

Long legs.

An arched back.

Tight-stretched skin.

She was a bakemono.

~0~

A knot was tied in the string.

It was cut away, and laid on the nightstand.

He flopped onto the bed, his legs dangling over the side.

In time the rain started up again. He curled up on the bed, circling his body around hers and laying his head on his outstretched arms. He murmured something that nobody else could hear.

“Ko-onna…do you… hate the rain too?”

She didn't answer.

They were still asleep when everybody else came home from the cultural festival, and saw Kyo asleep on his bed and, in his arms, a smaller bakemono just like him.