Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Force of Destiny ❯ Dreaming ( Chapter 4 )

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



Chapter 4: Dreaming

I am dreaming. Again. I do that often now. In between the long hours of painful awareness in which I battle the demon for control of my destiny, I seek the blissful oblivion of sleep, where comforting memories live. Everything that has come before has led me here, yet I am barely at the beginning of my quest.'Over ere it has begun.' My mind drifts along on the black currents of past experiences, dredging up faces dearly loved, lessons hard earned, and that feeling of belonging that seems far removed from this sea of lonely darkness. Snatches of half-formed memories flash past my mind's eye in dizzying succession before settling down to a specific incident.

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I hear my grandmother's voice, soft, gentle, patiently imparting the complicated steps of her most powerful spell as we rest on the porch overlooking our walled garden. The dream appears muffled and fuzzy, as if seen and heard through a pane of foggy glass. Images slowly sharpen, and bittersweet longing pours through me as I realize I am remembering the last time I was with her. It was the end of winter, the air was heavy with mist, and the sun shone weakly on the plum trees in full bloom. The breeze gently lifted locks of her long white hair and tossed them playfully around her lined face.

"Remember, you must concentrate on the energy flowing through your body. All things are connected by that energy." Here she breathes deeply, exhaling lightly, her eyes closed in relaxed concentration. I feel the flux and flow begin to gather between her hands, see the air waver and stir in response to her call.

"Use your will to pull the streams of energy together. See it in your mind, feel it with your senses..." the confluence of energy twists and turns, twining itself around her slender, aged fingers and forming a loose ball.

"Concentrate on your target and..." the sphere of shimmering blue light flies from the cradle of her hands to impact against a glass bottle set on a squat rock for this purpose, showering sparkling shards of glass on the greening carpet of grass, "there! Nothing to it!" She smiles at me brightly.

I look skeptically at her, one eyebrow raised in doubt, as if to say 'You think I can do that?' But, of course, that is exactly what she expects of me. It is in my blood, after all. I clear my thoughts, emptying my mind of everything, opening the door to awareness. With my mind's eye, I see delicate ribbons of energy surround me, and I carefully begin gathering them between my hands.

The pulsing skeins of life-force vibrate between my palms, wrapping around themselves at my urging, radiating peace and warmth. Power floods my senses, fierce and quick and pulsing with the joy of life, surging past my mental barriers. I struggle to maintain my concentration and hold back the tide of emotion that threatens to break my already strained control.

Opening my eyes slowly, I sight the last bottle, perched on the rock, about fifteen feet away. With a not-so-graceful wrench of my mind, I send the ball hurtling toward the target, straight as an arrow...euphoria grabs me. I did it! Amazing! Triumph shivers down my spine, and I begin to relax, anticipating the colorful, sparkling, starburst of pulverized glass.

Ten feet away...six feet...four feet...Something tugs at my fingers, and I glance down, distracted.

A stray band of energy remains tangled around a finger, forming a tether between myself and the speeding ball. With dismay, I watch dumbly as the slack is suddenly taken up, and the energy blast snaps to the left, missing the bottle with two feet to spare, and careening into a plum tree. Bits of dark bark fly, gouged out by the impact, and blossoms explode from its branches in a frenzied shower of fragrant petals.

I sigh, glancing at Grandmother from the corner of my eye. She has her lips pursed slightly, eyebrows raised in surprise, but her dark eyes sparkle with amusement. I can tell she's holding her laughter in. At least my latest blunder resulted in a spectacular display of the coming spring's bounties. I despair at my lack of control, though. That is always my problem: I begin with iron control, but am so easily overwhelmed by the pure, unfettered power of life, that the end is hardly ever a raging success. It frightens me to lose control to such an overwhelming, though positive, force. Many is the time she has told me I can complete any spell with ease, as long as I give my whole heart to it with free reign, instead of holding back.

"No room for doubt, Kaji." she would say, "We are blessed to commune with the energy which surrounds all life. While it is frightening in its intensity, it will do no harm to those who seek not to abuse it."

She would pause there to underscore her earnestness before continuing. "You must open yourself completely. If you hold back when dealing with the force that connects all living things, you will in turn be held back in all other areas of your life. Especially love, for the force we harness, life force, is love.

"I believe in it absolutely, as I believe in you absolutely, and so you must believe in yourself. Remember this, and all things are possible."

Though I doubt the reliability of her impassioned faith in my abilities, I always felt more confident after hearing it.

"As of this moment, you are the final product of generations; the pinnacle of our family's power. We believe in you, your ability to do tremendous good, and the strength of your heart. You must believe in it, too."

'Do you believe it now, Grandmother? See what has happened? You were wrong to put your faith in me, and now I have failed us all.'

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The pounding in my head signals my return to harsh reality, and I struggle to keep black despair at bay as the comfort of my dream fades. Groaning in protest, I fight to stay under the surface of consciousness in a vain attempt to recapture the bliss of oblivion. It is no use, though, as I hear his voice, cold, cruel, commanding me to obey him or watch those most precious to me suffer the consequences. Hot tears seep from beneath my lashes, even as his callous disregard for human decency galvanizes me to action. I struggle to overcome my exhaustion, the agonizingly sharp pain in my head, and the dull throb in my cheek.

'Oh,' I think blearily, 'he hit me again.'

The fear that he intends to inflict further abuse has me struggling to open my eyes. I need to know where he is so I can defend myself. But, as no further blows rain down on my unresponsive body, I realize the sound of his haari sweeping the floor has faded away.

My heartbeat is completely out of control, though, going almost double-time, sounding its deafening tattoo in my ears. Every other beat seems to have twice the volume of the others, and I begin to wonder if I am having a heart attack. Panic can do that to a person.

With the immediate threat temporarily gone, I know my heart rate should be returning to normal. It isn't. 'It almost sounds as if I am hearing another heartbeat,' I think blankly.

Finally gaining enough hold on the pain bouncing around inside my head, I stir against the soft warmth under my cheek and lift my lashes.