Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Force of Destiny ❯ Pact ( Chapter 21 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket. I do not own a basket of fruit. I do own some sticky rice and nori, so you could say I own some onigiri.

Last Chapter:

I let the cool breeze waft over my already overheating skin, drinking in the sight of the springtime garden bathed in indigo twilight, starshine, and cherry blossoms. Peace washes over me, and I take a deep, calming breath, opening my senses to revel in the power of life force, of chi, radiating from the living earth. Setting the vision firmly in my heart, a focal point for the power rising in my soul, I turn my consciousness to the tasks ahead. I have no illusions that Akito will make any of this easy on me--in a way, I'm counting on him being just as ruthless, just as vicious as ever. His own irrationality and anger provides an excellent distraction, and should mask at least part of my activities. But I will be walking a fine line between inciting his rage and controlling it to protect my loved ones.

With one last look outside, the traitorous thought that this may be my last view of the world filtering through my mind, I turn gracefully on my heel, feeling girded for battle in fine silk armor as black as the soul of the man I have vowed to stop.

Armor for battle, indeed, for I have declared war on Souma Akito.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~

Chapter 21: Pact

I can't believe it. Despite the looming danger of dinner tonight with Akito, despite the impending meeting with my love, I had slept like a baby. Not a single harsh thought had rippled across the surfaces of my dreams. As a result, I woke refreshed-and horrified. I was facing the demon tonight, in front of Tohru, that damn cat, and Kaji, and wanted to come out relatively unscathed-and I hadn't given a single thought to how that was to be accomplished. What the hell had happened to me?! I am the mouse: the planner, the strategist, yet I had nothing. Nothing! Ah, but I am also the one always in control of himself...at least on the outside. I suppose this in and of itself is a plan, and a very formidable defense against Akito. There is nothing the Juunishi master hates more than to fail to wring a response from his victim. It is a pleasure I plan on denying him. I can feel a devilish grin Shigure would be proud of slide across my lips.

Taking a deep breath, I look around the room, noting the way the faded sunlight is edged with crimson, heralding the onset of dusk. I frown. This is unusual. Always before, Akito demanded dinner be served at five o'clock sharp, regardless of who the guests were. A shiver of foreboding races over my skin, signifying knowledge that the shift in mealtime is a deliberate step in some plan of Akito's. But to what purpose?

Sadly, I lack information to make a good judgement on what could possibly be going through the dark, twisted mind of my cousin. There is every possibility that Akito simply wants a change in routine-unlikely, but not unprecedented. The Souma head is a creature of routine, but also one subject to his whims, and is never afraid to indulge in them.

All of this, taken together with the remembrance of exactly who is going to be present at dinner, tumble around in my mind, coiling tighter and tighter into a tangled knot of apprehension, excitement, and dread.

Sighing, I gaze out the open doors one more time, briefly revisiting a memory of a glowing goddess, standing poised against the backdrop of the moonlit garden. Shaking my head, absently noting the slight smile tugging at the corners of lips still sensitive with the feel of hers, I shrug off the lassitude of sleep and rise fluidly to get dressed.

Hmmm, I think idly, what to wear? Rifling through the closet, I pull out and discard several items: pants, shirts, yukata...undecided on whether or not to appear in Western clothing (certain to irritate Akito, not a completely unappealing idea), or traditional garb. After a brief moment, I settle on trim, dark slacks and a white shirt with a Mandarin collar, wanting the familiarity and comfort of my own clothing. Akito is likely going to be in rare form tonight, anyway, so what apparel I choose to wear is unlikely to make matters any worse. Besides, I am making a silent statement to the embittered man: `I am my own person, and will no longer tolerate your dominion over me-and those I love'.

With a final flick to rid my sleeve of some minuscule particle of lint, and run fingers through my hair, fussing at it more than I usually would. Taking a deep breath, centering my thoughts on emotional control, mentally preparing for a battle, I run through a list of the most likely order of obstacles Akito would put us through. He would no doubt not waste time getting to the meat of the visit, preferring to start the evening out by `introducing' Tohru to myself and Kaji. This will be the most difficult part of the night, and once gotten out of the way, I will still have to deal with the lingering pain of Tohru's continued distance. After all, she will think me a complete stranger. And she will be with Kyou...

I hear a groan rise involuntarily. This is the stumbling block I am dreading. How is Kaji going to react to Tohru? I have no fears she will create some sort of jealous scene-she is too refined to do such a thing as start a cat-fight, but I know that she is going to be terribly hurt. Akito will make certain of it, and I am not going to be in a position to reassure her. At least, not immediately. The danger to her, should the Juunishi god find out the true nature of my feelings for the fiery miko, is too great to risk at this point. I am simply going to have to grit my teeth and bite down on all protective instincts and my need to declare that she was mine, therefore off limits to all. Luckily, I have had years of practice through denying my feelings for Tohru. I got through that ordeal, I can certainly make it through this one. All I need is a little patience...but the problem is, I find that, since I have tasted her, I don't have as abundant supply of my trademark restraint as I could have hoped.

Sighing, I hear a scratching at the door and move to answer it. I slide it open to reveal Hatori. Looking my cousin over with a critical eye, I notice the dragon does not appear any better than he had a few hours ago.

"Didn't you sleep?" I ask. The words come out slightly harsher than intended, sharpened by my rising anxiety. I wince and smile slightly in sheepish apology.

"No," the doctor replies, running his hand through already rumpled hair, disordering the heavy locks even more, "but you look refreshed." It is almost an accusation, testament to Hatori's strained emotions.

"Yes, I actually slept some. Amazing, considering what we have to face tonight."

Hatori nods dismally, dropping his head to rub distractedly at the back of his neck. A grimace twists his features, but I can't tell if it is from muscle pain, or anticipation of the gauntlet we are going to be forced to run. I suppose it doesn't matter that much, anyway. Hatori appears worn to a nub, emotions running too close to the surface for his own good. Akito is going to have a field day with him if he doesn't regain some semblance of his famous stoic control.

"Hatori," I begin gently, unsure how to begin. This is a switch-always he is the one offering advice and comfort, and I am at a loss on how to return the favor, "maybe you shouldn't be there tonight."

The dragon's head snaps up, green eyes wide in surprise at my evident concern, and in apprehension over the consequences should he fail to attend dinner. Puffing out a long sigh, Hatori lowers his hand to his side, shaking his head slightly.

"You know I can't do that, Yuki. Akito requested my presence, so I must go."

There is resignation and regret in his deep voice, and I know he is dreading having to face the bright young woman whose memories he was forced to steal. Guilt is etched painfully deep into every line of the hassenchi's face and form, radiating off of him an waves of sorrow. This is not good. At this rate...

"Hatori," again I speak sharply, but on purpose this time. It is imperative I gain his undivided attention, "you are not to blame for erasing Tohru's memories. I do not blame you for it, and she doesn't know any better." I pause here, trying to put into words the conclusions I have reached after weeks of solitary contemplation. Finally, I settled one idea; the crux of the entire sordid affair.

"You and I both know that it was the only way to protect her," I put my hand on Hatori's tense shoulder, squeezing gently, trying to convey the sincerity of my words, "and for that, I thank you."

We stay like that for some moments, wordlessly communicating and rebuilding the bonds of family and friendship damaged by guilt and resentment. Finally, Hatori nods once, signaling his acceptance of my sentiments as honest and not simply an attempt to make him feel better. He knows me better than that-when it comes to family, I always make an effort to be honest. Besides, much as it pains him to admit it, I am right. Unless he lets this go, he is going to crack. Akito will not hesitate to take full advantage of his current, brittle emotional state, and Hatori would come away from tonight's trial more than a little bloodied-he would be broken.

Visibly shrugging off his depressed mood, he looks me over with a critical eye, one dark brow rising in a familiar gesture of sardonic question.

"You're going to wear that?" His voice is irritatingly dry. I am immediately relieved to hear proof of his return to a more normal state.

Looking down at my immaculate clothing, I wonder what he has against the spare, elegant design. The clothes are clean and neatly pressed, and comfortable. More importantly, they are my own. I say as much to my faintly grinning cousin.

"What's wrong with this?" I query, beginning to feel a playful banter come on. We could use the mental break, "Are you jealous that I look better than you?" I try to look down my nose at him haughtily, but the effect is doomed to a dismal failure-it's difficult to look down your nose at someone when required to tilt your head up to meet their eye in the first place.

"No, I simply thought you would wear the usual yukata," he replies stiffly, "You know, what you always wear here."

Here. The honke. I snort cynically.

"No, I will not wear what I always wear here, not tonight," my tone is rough, incisive, a growl of conviction. "Tonight, I will be myself."

I feel my hands involuntarily clenching and unclenching, arms held stiffly down at my sides. I drop my gaze to our stockinged feet, Hatori's black socks in sharp contrast to my white ones. The sudden, heavy silence of the room is broken by the sounds of my harsh breathing, each inhalation proof that I am my own man. I mourn the loss of the loose, companionable atmosphere of moments ago, but it serves to finally bring home the horrible reality of what we are about to face. What I am about to face. And I'll be damned if I'll let my self-righteous prig of a cousin convince me to wear those hated yukata simply to appease Akito.

"You know, this will probably irritate Akito," he says, but his voice lacks the heat of conviction.

Hatori knows, as I do, that what I wear is not going to diminish the family head's good mood tonight. He will be too high on the many torments provided, playing with us, manipulating us like the toys he believes us to be. We will be spread before him like a banquet, all of our many weaknesses and fears displayed for him to sample at his leisure. Well, no more. No more!

"Yuki," the dragon's voice is soft, but his tone is strong, "this is going to be difficult, and there is nothing you can say or do to---" he breaks off, overcome. Probably reliving his own memories.

I have no illusions as to what `this' he is referring to. Tohru. Meeting as if for the first time. Of all of my family, Hatori is the only one who can fully understand what tonight's trial will hold for me and my heart. The kind of devastation it can wreak upon my emotions.

"I know," my voice is low and calm. And I do know. "She will not know me, not remember me," I pause, uncertain if I should speak my secret hope, but who else but Hatori would understand?

"Maybe, though her heart will remember me-remember us," I continue softly, a small smile tugging at my mouth, "And that would be enough."

Nothing but silence from the doctor, I note. I can hear the thoughts racing around in his mind, `How to divest him of his illusions?' And, sure enough, my responsible, well-meaning cousin clears his throat, intent on delivering a speech on the detriments of happy fantasies.

"Is that why you are wearing your own clothes? You want her to see you as she last saw you? Do you honestly think she will remember you?"

I can hear the sharp edge of old, desperate pain in his words, and while I feel sympathy for his scarred heart, I need to set him straight on my own convictions. Jerking my head up, and I can feel the flame of determination blazing from my eyes as I grind out my words.

"No, Hatori," I snap, "that is not the reason. I am wearing this because they are mine. Mine! I am telling Akito that I am not his pet to be dressed at his whim. If he wants to try and make a spectacle of me, then he may do so on my terms. I am not his plaything, and I am no longer a cowering child, terrified of his ranting and violence, fearing shadows and whispered taunts..." my breath is coming in short, painful gasps, but I ignore it to hiss out my determination, "I am my own man. I will protect myself-and those I love."

Hatori appears taken aback, eyes wide, stunned by the icy conviction, the steely will evidenced by my impassioned, impromptu speech.

"Gods, but that felt good to say!" I let out a relieved breath, the knot of emotion that had lodged itself in my chest miraculously loosening.

"Yuki, you..." the good doctor's lips move, but no sound emerges, until, "...you..." Again, he trails off.

I am feeling positively gleeful that I have been able to stun the composed hassenchi into stuttering silence, and I know a grin splits my face. I can tell, because the stumped doctor levels a narrow glare at me, quickly recovering his composure. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted.

"Yuki," he repeats, and his eyes hold an uncomfortable light of knowledge. I shift in chagrin, certain he has found me out. His accusation confirms it.

"I thought you agreed to leave Tohru and Himiko alone-not bring more of Akito's attention to them than absolutely necessary," the words hang in the air between us. I wait a beat, calmly meeting Hatori's glare, letting him know that I am taking this issue seriously, but that I am not backing down.

"I will do so, but only in front of Akito. I do not have much choice with Tohru-she will not know me, and Akito no longer considers her a true threat now that he has given her to the stupid cat," I take a step forward to deliver the rest of my words. "But if you think that I intend to stand idly by while he touches," I spit the vile word out, "her, hurts her," I hiss viciously, "then you are sorely mistaken, Hatori."

I step back from him, noting the thoughtful expression in his eyes as he gazes at me calculatingly. He seems undecided, so I prod him with the one thing I know certain to sway him. It is perhaps unfair, and definitely cruel, but I will do all I can to secure his help. And if not his help, at least his neutrality.

"Can you honestly say you would step away if we were discussing Kana?"

Hatori visibly stiffens, the question like a slap in the face, or a knife in his wounded heart. I feel guilt sweep over me briefly, but it is soon replaced with calm determination. A gamut of emotions play out over the Juunishi dragon's normally stoic mask: surprise, pain, guilt, regret, tenderness, acceptance...and comprehension. His eyes widen as the full implications of my resolve, and the reasons behind it, spreads across his awareness. After a moment, he relaxes, warmth rising in his dusky green gaze and his features soften with some bittersweet emotion.

"So," he says, voice gruff with affection, "that's the way it is." It is not a question, but a statement, pregnant with meaning.

I nod slowly, my gaze never leaving his, as if, should I break eye contact, he will withdraw his approbation. I am prepared to save Kaji without Hatori's help, but it will be so much easier with it. He reaches out a hand and claps it down heavily onto my shoulder. This is a good sign. I sag with relief.

"I'm not going to promise anything," he warns, "but I'll do what I can."

My smile can no longer be contained, and I let it bloom, relaxing the tense set of my features. My throat feels choked with gratitude, though, and I can only get out a simple, "Thank you," over the emotional lump.

He humphs once, and I would swear I saw him roll his eyes, but then he is peering closely at me, eyes intent and searching.

"What?" I say, taken aback by his scrutiny, suddenly worried he is about to tack on some sort of conditions to his assistance.

"You really love her?"

Huh? I think blankly. Is that all? Gods! I thought he was going to give me a list of unwanted advice. This, though, this is easy.

Looking him directly in the eye, I straighten my shoulders (not easy to do with his hand still weighing my right shoulder down) and lift my chin.

"More than I thought possible."

The declaration is stepped with the absolute certainty that Kaji-fiery, graceful, compassionate, driven-is the light in my heart now. What Tohru began all those years ago with her unconditional acceptance and lessons in kindness, Kaji has resumed. For a brief, lonely time, I had allowed Akito to close my heart once again, but in an explosion of undeniable emotion, my red-headed miko burst upon my dismal existence and did so much more than reopen it. She freed my spirit.

"Well then, if that's the way you feel, I think we have a dinner to attend," my cousin said.

"Yes," I agreed, and though my stomach clenched with apprehension, my heart lifted at the thought of seeing Kaji again. "Let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~

I want to apologize for my formatting issues-I know that my margins are sometimes screwed up, and I am working on the problem. Please have patience!

Yay! I managed to get this chapter out quickly! And, just to appease the screaming mimi fans out there (all 3 of you), I made it a long one. Next chapter should be really interesting. Hmmm...What could Akito be planning? What could Yuki be planning (and will Hatori go along with it)? What is Kaji planning? Everyone is scheming-and so am I!

Let's hope I can get the next post up soon, provided ff.net is not down again. I think my muse is happier now that I began working on that Inuyasha fic. (insert shameless plug here)

See my latest work "Yume"!

Visited nightly by a strange vision, Sesshoumaru vows the woman who seems to be able to harness the power of Tessaiga will become his. His search leads him to Kagome, whose powers are beginning to manifest in shocking ways.

As always, thanks to everyone who read this sorry little story (even if you didn't send me a review *pout*)!