Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Force of Destiny ❯ Sacrifice ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket, even though I asked Santa for it...*sigh*.

Chapter 1: Sacrifice

Sitting here in my isolated room at the honke, it is comforting to let my mind drift on currents of half-formed thoughts. Thinking...remembering...planning...it is all the exercise I get lately. The rest of the family and Juunishi have basically been denied access to me-Akito's first line of attack in his attempt to break my spirit, like some sort of twisted torture scheme. 'Divide and conquer.' Only Hatori is allowed access to me. 'Wouldn't want his favorite pet to fall ill,' I think cynically.

Daily, it is a major battle not to revert to how I was before she opened my heart; a desperate struggle to regain the solid footing she placed under us all with her gentle guidance. So I remember her, to stave off the icy walls threatening to engulf my heart once more. I remember, and smile.

'When did I first begin to thaw, to realize the true nature of my feelings for her?' I muse absently. I can't blame myself for not knowing what was happening; after all, I didn't really have anything to use as a basis for comparison. All my life, I had been surrounded by the uneasiness of those who were supposed to love me, but who only showed me wariness and fear. Fear. Something I am well acquainted with. He made certain of that. And though I was the one he liked to torture most, I was by no means his only outlet for the twisted, boiling rage trapped inside his frail body. Love. Something I had no experience with. Those who I hoped would protect me and love me, instead, bowed down under the pressure of the dark curse, and the man-child who bore the brunt of it. I never had anyone to teach me the true nature of that mysterious and seemingly unattainable emotion...until she came.

She arrived like a summer rain after a lifetime of drought and deprivation; warm, gentle, unexpected...life-giving. We all basked in the warmth that was uniquely hers, a combination of childish innocence and age-old wisdom. Even that damned cat couldn't help himself, he who was always ready to pounce at the slightest irritation, always on guard. When she was around, though, his face looked almost open, gentle even. It was a look reserved only for her. I immediately recognized it, because it was the same look we all wore, just for her. Even the coldest, cruelest of hearts was no match for her infinite understanding. She was a balm to the souls of the cursed, a bright ray of sunlight piercing the oppressive darkness of despair, the grace of salvation to those long lost. Our angel. Touru. Her name moves through my soul like a warm breeze.

But her effect on him didn't stop him from using her. Though he conceded a battle to her, he never gave up his darkness, loving it too much to let go, I suppose. So now I am back again, to preserve her happiness, to save her as she surely saved me from becoming as he is; warped, angry, dark, desperate...drowning in the curse. Akito.

I had known, we all had known, that he would never let her go. He couldn't. In his mind she was more than a nuisance, she was a threat, a tool to use to bring us to heel. In his mind, we betrayed him by giving our love to Touru. He feels he should have it all. No divisions, no compromises. We disobeyed him at that last meeting, holding him back from hurting her further, daring to lay hands on him to stop him. Even Hatori went against him, failing to act on the order to erase her memories. I think the final betrayal was from himself, though. In the face of Touru's understanding, he dared to feel again; something other than pain and rage moved through him, and he couldn't come to terms with it. It was completely alien to his experience. 'I suppose we are all partially to blame for that,' I sigh to myself, 'always treating him as untouchable, fearing him. It was all he knew to do. All he still knows. Not that it excuses him.' She created a weakness in his barriers of pride and rage by showing compassion instead of fear, honest interest instead of false concern. It shone a spotlight on his human vulnerabilities, made him realize he is just like the rest of us, after all. Equals trapped in a quagmire of darkness, sinking fast with only her love as a lifeline. For him, it was not to be tolerated, and he bided his time.

So, we were lulled into complaisance by his release of her. Thinking he had recognized the same qualities we had, and that he, too, may have begun to heal, we put it from our minds. Perhaps he has changed since meeting her, if only a little. He is not as physically abusive, as psychologically cruel, as I remember from my time here before. But he has torn my heart away from me, and he knows it. That was the point. Never to see her again, except in the company of others. The dull pain of knowing I am not the one who sees her smiling, glowing face everyday, sharing meals, discussing all things mundane and ordinary, basking in the bliss of her acceptance and love. But I have a secret. I am not consumed with jealousy. I know that was his plan. To make me hurt in as many ways as possible. To feel loneliness at the loss of her, jealousy that the loss was to another man, despair that I had to make such an impossible choice, fear of the reprisals against her if I didn't choose correctly--all to force me to return willingly to him; all to break me. However, he doesn't suspect my strength is the secret joy in knowing that I was able to protect her from him. I was able to give her happiness. I am not broken yet, and I will not be as long as I remember her. Even though I cannot see her, even though I cannot touch her, smell her, smile at her, I can remember her. Even though she can't remember me...

A small sound, no more than the faintest suggestion of a rustle, breaks into my reverie. I suddenly realise it is very late, the moon shining full and bright onto the small courtyard garden outside my room. The fusuma is open, illuminating cherry trees, revealing the delicate, otherworldly glow of sakura in full bloom.

'Akito?' I think, already feeling a small flutter of panic. Fear begins to congeal in my gut, a cold, heavy weight, like a living, writhing mass of snakes. Taking a deep breath, I still myself, preparing to face his next move with calm.