Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Light in My Life ❯ Memories ( Chapter 16 )

Ah.. um.. Yeah. Blame philosophy.

16: Memories

This girl doesn't look like much of a threat, I had thought. She was very polite. Not many people these days were polite. She bowed to me, and she was... such a girl.

She wore small, yellow ribbons in her average brown hair. She altogether looked very average, I noted. A small, unbidden thought popped up; I wondered how I looked in my nice black shirt and pants. I had gained some weight since the last time I was ill, although it had taken some convincing for Hatori to let me drive with Shigure to the school.

I wasn't sure exactly what I had wanted to achieve there. I had assumed I would see the girl I had allowed to stay at Shigure's house, and it hadn't been that much of a surprise.

When I told her she was cute, it wasn't a lie. Although she looked average in every meaning of the word, her bright attitude was rather fascinating. No one was bright around me. I was a dark room, a shadow; I absorbed light, and I crushed illumination without a sound.

So, naturally, she was new to me. I could tell she was nervous. Who wouldn't be? I was an intimidating person. But still, she smiled at me. But still, she did not run away. And still, I saw her face light up as Yuki entered upon the scene.

Ah, here he was. The object of my affection, the victim of my wrath, the bug beneath my feet. But this was a valiant bug, a particularly well-weathered one, which could stand up to the might of my shoe. He clearly remembered me, just as I intended it. The family knew of my mental assault on him, but none of them knew what happened behind closed doors. I meant to keep it that way.

I walked towards him. He had grown up, recovered his countenance from his stay at the main house. He was a fine young man, and it made me laugh. I had failed in stunting him. But that would only make him more of a challenge when I crushed his free spirit and forced him to move back to the main house. The Honke. With me.

I had made him remember. And that girl had... had pushed me. She kept her eyes low, and she made no move to apologize ridiculously like she had before. She told me that she and Yuki, my rat, had to go to class or they would be late. She had a valid point.

But she made me angry. I apologized to her, and left. Shigure had inquired about the visit, and I was perfectly willing to share the details. I told him she was ugly. She was. I told him she was stupid and dumb. She was.

But she wasn't. She was a threat. And a threat, I couldn't handle.

I opened my eyes to the sound of my door opening. I couldn't just let her leave like that. It was an insult to me.

There was also the matter of food. I was always one to ask for what I wanted, to get what I wanted, and eventually enjoy what I wanted. I had pride and I had arrogance, but I didn't mind giving some of it up for what I wanted. Because when I did obtain my desires, my pride was restored and no one would ever say anything about it. It was a win-win situation.

And I wanted Honda Tohru's miso soup. And I would have it. And that was it. And maybe that sashimi, if I felt like asking.

She stepped into my room, her eyes never once leaving the floor. "You asked for me, Akito-san?" she asked. Her voice was barely audible in my large room. I wanted to sit up to speak to her, but every ounce of energy I had was directed to my open eyes and working mouth. It would come back eventually. And then the fun would start.

"Honda Tohru, I want you to make the same meal that you made yesterday," I told her. Tohru looked surprised for a moment, before bowing again.

"Yes, Akito-san," she said, leaving the room. I was now bored. The porch doors were closed, and I felt suddenly overwhelmed by the stuffy air inside the room. I often liked to lie on the porch, watching my birds come to me like the faithful pets they were, but I almost always insisted the door be closed when I was indoors. It was a matter of principle; now I was introduced to it, and I missed it.

There was a certain pleasure about the air outside. It made me nostalgic for a time when I enjoyed things natural, and I didn't like memories. I banished them, and arose in fits when they disobeyed me. Just like I had tried to ban Honda Tohru from my presence because of... that smell.

My mother smelled like roses. Memories came, unbidden: her hair, which bore the aroma of a sweet, tangy fruit. Her skin felt like roses, and had the scent of them too. The softness of her kimono, and the way she would let me play with her long, dark hair. Everything about her was soft and sweet, and I could remember nothing more of her.

***

Tohru waited outside the door, holding a tray of miso soup, salmon sashimi, and candied bananas. The kitchen had been out of yellowtail, and she hoped that the supply of vegetables that had been provided there would satisfy Akito's taste. They were less fresh than the ones she had used, but her special spices were sure to mask that slight shortcoming.

Tohru swallowed a lump in her throat, rubbing one eye. She brought her hand to the door, and paused as she found it shaking. Her fingers lightly grasped the small slat, and she closed her eyes.

Akito had always made her nervous. From the moment he spoke to her at the school, she had feared meeting him. He had an air around him which not even she felt she could penetrate, and it frightened her. He was in a world all his own, separate from normal people. He had his own league, his own plane, and his own field of understanding. That much was obvious.

But Tohru found herself adjusting, and becoming used to his presence. She could clearly remember the fright on Yuki's face when he had been addressed by his own cousin, and it had disturbed her.

Even more prominent in her mind was her formal address to Akito at the main house. Even when she was paralyzed to the ground, her hair being tugged straight from her skull, she had not been afraid of him. She felt sorry for him, and wanted so horribly to give him hope. If he wasn't alive for himself, who was there to be alive for?

Tohru lightly slid the door open, stepping inside. She didn't want to go on lying to Yuki. Her charade would have to stop, just like Kyou had said.

"I brought what Akito-san requested," she announced quietly, walking across the room. She kneeled down beside the futon.

Akito lifted his head from the cover of his blankets, watching her blankly. His eyes narrowed slightly, and an invisible breeze pushed a small lock of hair onto his cheek. "Open the door to the porch," he said. Tohru nodded and stood, padding lightly towards the sliding panels.

She paused for a moment. "It is slightly chillier than it was earlier," she informed him. "I do not want Akito to get any more ill than he already is."

Akito stared at her back. "Open them," he insisted. Tohru nodded, sliding one of the shoji panels open. A light breeze blew inside, and she turned back towards him.

She stopped, her feet suddenly rooting to the ground. Akito watched with interest as she fixed her eyes on him, unable to move. Her eyes were wide, and her hand trembled at her side. She took one hesitant step toward him, as if he were some new person she was meeting for the first time. Akito drew back into his blankets as she continued to look at him, her expression curious and wary at the same time.

Akito turned his head. She was boring into his eyes, seeing past his face, and it was making him uncomfortable. Tohru seemed to get the message, and she covered the rest of the distance between them as she sat beside the steaming tray of food.

She dipped a wooden spoon into the miso, stirring it slightly. Akito remained with his back towards her, the silence blanketing the room. She lightly lifted one hand, setting it on top of the blankets. He opened his eyes, his body moving agonizingly slow as he moved to fix his eyes on hers.

Tohru lifted the spoon, her hand free of shaking. She smiled then, a strand of hair falling beside her face as she slipped the utensil into Akito's mouth.

The dark-haired man felt the warm liquid swish about his mouth. It tasted of fine dining, and it gave new strength to his weak and fragile body. It was a rejuvenator, a blessing to his immobile muscles and pale white skin.

It was what he wanted. It was the smell of sweet roses, and the feel of warm soup, and the thought of fruit desserts, which fueled him. It was a distant memory of a woman who took great concerns in his well-being, and a thought of a girl who cared for the very pleasure of his life.

Some things in people are good, and others are bad. Some of these things can bring happiness to the lives of other, or they can cause pain and hatred among those they care for. They can exist for any amount of time, as a prominent feature of a person's life or a forgotten dream of love and fellowship, and form and shape a soul from the moment of birth.

But sometimes, events in a life such as this can make a person remember that they are born with these things inside of them, and it is they who choose to bring them about. No man is an island, and no person is complete without another to rely upon, because that is the heart of human nature.

And this was one of those moments, one of those events, which heralded the start of something new.