Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ It's Our Secret ❯ Relative Composition ( Chapter 3 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Shot Three: Relative Composition
A/N: Hello there, thanks for reading and reviewing, it means a lot to me! This one-shot dealt with Momo and Momiji and their brotherly/sisterly relationship I made them have in my fic, which, I just carried over into this. I hope you all enjoy it. : D
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One last flick of her wrist, and the word was completed; her composition was completed. Sohma Momo let her long blonde and curly hair slid across her pale cheeks as she read the musical notes over. It would be a beautiful piece; if she played it to the right person that was. It was made for, and could only be performed to, Sohma Momiji.
He was a mystery to Momo, even his name was odd to her; it was so close to her own. Almost as if, they were truly brother and sister. But they weren't. They shared the same hair color, Momiji's hair even had a slight wave to it, he had the same eye color as her, same skin color, and…the way he looked at mama…But he wasn't her older brother. Despite all of those things, they didn't share the same blood. That's what he said…
That's what mama said…
That's what papa said…
So, why couldn't she fully accept the simple fact? Why couldn't she ignore the despair that lurked in his clear eyes, every time he looked at her or mama, or how his smiles never showed off his soul, rather, they just gave a skin deep impression of happiness? He never says a word about any of it though, and that's why she gave up. She no longer wanted to prove that Sohma Momiji was her brother.
No, not when she told mama and she playfully told her that Momiji was someone else's child, and that Momo was her only little girl. Not when she mentioned her thoughts to papa and he forcefully brought up the words nonsense. She gave up, when she realized that the more she tried to search, the further in the forest of lies she got lost. But, Momo knew….
Momo picked up the sheet of paper from the desk, which was in the corner of the room, and on the way out she snatched up her violin. She heard around the estate that today was Momiji's birthday, and she had the perfect gift for him. Momo had worked extremely hard on it, poured her soul and emotions into, and, while she didn't have any time to practice it, knew that it would all turn out right in the end. Either she would do a miraculous job on the piece, or she would make a pitiful display of it, but it didn't matter. She had the distinct sense that Momiji wouldn't care if she messed up.
Her body ran and ran until she came to the house that she knew Momiji spent most of his time at. Slowly, she crept her way towards the back of the house, she didn't want to be seen here by anyone besides Momiji, because, if she was, her mama and papa would be told for sure, and she would get punished. So, she had to be careful with each move she made, and she was, until she heard the melancholy sound of Momiji's violin.
He always played such poignant songs.
They made her want to cry and that's why she made her song be as upbeat as she possibly could on the violin. Now, she understood that her song would never compare to great composers, nor could she play her violin as skillfully as Momiji did. Nevertheless, she could only hope that he would enjoy her present nonetheless.
Gingerly she walked over to him, Sohma Momiji, who stood in the center of the small backyard/garden. He looked like any older brother should. Tall, strong, and mature and his clothes no longer resembled her own. No, now, they resembled teenage boy's clothes-the light but durable material of his cargo pants, and a loose T-shirt. To her, he was the perfect image of what an older brother was suppose to look like. Not a single thing in reality was perfect, yet, in her mind-in her dreams-he was the closest thing to it.
“Momiji-san,” oh, how she wished she could use nii-chan, she would have even been okay with nii-san, but she couldn't…just couldn't, “I've written a musical composition for you, and I'd like to play it. I wrote it for your birthday.” Her eyes looked meekly up at him, as her voice could barely be heard. The sun shone brightly off both their light colored strands of hair.
He stopped in the middle of his song, his eyes had been shut, and he had been lost in his own music, she was surprised that he had even caught a snitch of what she had said. But, he had, someway-somehow, he had. “I…would love that, more than anything in the world, I would, Momo-chan.” His voice was so deep, but she could almost feel the comfort and care in his tone.
Thus, she got herself ready, and then she played. Her melody melted into the earth, and mingled with the bird's natural songs, and each note danced across the wind and rippled the water the usually lay dormant in the garden pond. Her eyelids swiftly lowered and covered her brown orbs as long lashes touched her pale checks. Each optimistic tune made the moment ever the more magical and Momo couldn't be happier that she hadn't messed up, because, by now, the composition she had she laboriously written, was swept up in the breeze and forgotten. By then, she played the composition that had laid asleep inside her heart, her true composition, the purest gift she had to give to Sohma Momiji. And, then, it was all over, as soon as she had begun, she stopped. Why? She wasn't too sure of the answer, her soul just told her to not play anymore, and so, she didn't. The music died down, until it disappeared completely.
When she re-opened her eyes, her brown irises were met with that of another exact pair. By then, Momiji stood right beside her; as tears glistened and trimmed the edges of his eyelids. A few strayed from their home and traveled timely down his skin, the liquid shimmered brilliant aqua blue, due to the sun. And, though no words were said, the water that slithered down his flesh, were not out of sadness, but happiness. They were of pure joy, which she had brought to him. A smile curled up on her features and a laugh escaped her pink lips.
Then, suddenly, Momiji grasped her into an almost painful hug, desperate not to let go…ever. He needed her, just as she needed him. His voice chocked out, quietly, among the tears, which still flowed freely, “Call me nii-chan, Momo-chan, never call me anything else-ever.”
Tears sprung up in her own eyes, and, from that moment on, even if Momo had no idea that they were completely and utterly blood related-Sohma Momiji became her nii-chan, he became her older brother, and not a single thing else.
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A/N: Well, that's the end of this one-shot, I'm glad with how this one came out. It ended up being much more heartfelt than I had first imagined, but, that's okay. Please tell me what you think of it in a review. Please, take care. : ) Ja ne!
-LilyGinnyBlack-