Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Non Compos Mentis ❯ chapter 2 ( Chapter 3 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: rAiNwAtEr 
Anime/Manga: Fruits Basket Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 11.21.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 154 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Fruits Basket Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 11.21.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 154 | Status: Completed
Well it doesn't seem like anyone is interested in this story. Sigh. No matter, I am still going to write it anyways. The updates will not be as frequent due to the lack of response but if I start to get more reviews, faster updates can be arranged. I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think.
Also, I have I will be updating my other story "Flames of Purgatory" as soon as possible so please have patience.
A/N: This chapter starts off with a dream. All context pertaining to the dream are in italics.
Non Compos Mentis
Title meaning: (Latan) One that is not of sound mind; insanity.
Chapter: 2
I know that I am dreaming. How else could I feel the slightest inclination of happiness? Knowing that this is a dream does not take away its desired affect, nor quench my intense wanting. The hidden need that burns under my skin. The ever closing darkness that lerks beneath my facade. I am captivated by it. I want to smother myself in this intoxicating feeling.
Fiery orange hair shades his half lidded red eyes. Eyes clouded with desire and a primal need that transcends time. A disire I hope desperately is for me. The intoxicated feeling of being desired and wanted can give a person a high like no other drug and I am craving it. As those eyes travel over my naked flesh; I shiver. Those piercing eyes sear every part of my skin they gaze on, leaving invisble welts. He pushes me down onto my futon and slowly crawls on top of me. His actions showing the cat that dwells in him.
His tongue pokes out and teases his bottom lip as he gives me the sexiest grin I have ever laid eyes on. My breath catches in my throat. Although I am surrounded by oxygen, I can't seem to find the air. I'm burning. I'm sweating. My veins pumping alive with a passion so hot, so intense, it could make the sun combust.
His hand caresses my face; I tremble. He wraps me in an embrace; I shiver. He whispers into my ear; I quake. His tongue darts out to travel along the shell of my ear; I crumble.
What is bizarre about this ever occuring dream is that I am being submissive; a role I am not fimilure with. As he positions himself above me, I ponder this question in my fuddled and confused mind. Could it be, that because I hold so much power, I am secretly craving someone to over power me? Do I crave someone to brand me in ownership? Do I want someone to take possession of me?
My thoughts are blocked by intense pleasure as I am taken. My eyes burn and my chest heaves. Yes, this is what I want. This is what I yearn for. The fact hits me like an iceburg.
I wake with a start. I sit up and gulp for air as I scan my pitch black room. I take hold of my shoulders to try and put a stop to the tremors that rack my body. I can't seem to find the air. Panic is grabbing hold of me. I'm so alone. This thought freezes my heart and tears at my soul. I clentch my jaw to stop the souless scream that threatens to erupt from my throat. I draw my knees up to my chest and rock back and forth.
My cold skin has never been touched by warm skin willingly. I crave human contact. I crave it like a starving man dying of hunger. I desire it so much that I am willing to beat and maim the Shoma members just to feel some stimulant of human contact. I want to be cherished and wanted. I want to know my death will have some meaning to it. If I knew someone, anyone, would grieve for me I wouldn't mind holding the burden of God. If only someone would shead a tear at my passing.
"Kyo." The name rips free from my lips.
Alone in my room I am consumed by darkness. Darkness that matches the turmoil filtering through my soul. I prey for the empty darkness to swallow me whole. At least in sleep I can find a sliver of happiness.
Hours later, when the suns weak rays dust away the shadows drapping my room, sleep grants me black emptiness.
-----------------
The days passed with high tention and apprehension. By Monday, my tense and slightly sadistic mood had laid over the whole Shoma estate like a blanket. My nerves were on edge and I lashed out without warning. I was torn between dreading Friday and demanding the Gods to grant me power to fast forward time so Friday would be here.
Tuesday, I had successfully tormented half of the Shoma's under my control. Is it my fualt that I don't know how to deal with emotions? I think not. Through the day I had expirenced many new emotions like: inticipation and nervousness. Right on the spot I decided I didn't like either of those feelings. They made me feel alienated in my own skin. Those feelings made me do things I normally wouldn't do. They chipped away at my emotionless facade. They left me raw and bare on the inside. No, I didn't like these new emotions at all.
On Wednesday, I became extremely ill. It would seem my body over loaded with emotions and needed to shut down and reboot. Needless to say, my 'family' members were more then happy to know I couldn't cause any harm to them for the time being. Just thinking about it brings a snear to my lips. At times like this, I am certain they deserve all the damage I can do to them. All of them deserve to be crushed and battered. They have made me what I am, so I am simply returning the favor.
On Thursday, I was bed ridden. My body weak and fragile. At times like this, I wish I was a butterfly so I could shed my form and become stronger and healty. I can bearly breath for I have ammonia. My lungs weaze like a cigarette junky. My fever made me see odd shapes on the wall. My vision blured from the heat behind my eyelids. Sweat made my cloths and sheets stick to me. The cannibalistic butterflies in my stomach prevented any food from being consumed; causing my already leath body to become smaller. Living like this is worst than death.
By the time Friday came, I had worked myself into a seriously ill state. My disgustingly fragile body was racked by dry heaves. The sweat that escaped my pores was sizzled away by the heat radiating off my skin. Hitori didn't show up this morning with my medication so I was force to bare the pain and agony of this illness. My lungs felt like they were in an iron grip. It hurt to move, to breath, and just being awake in general. I am still weak and partically bedridden but I can get up out of my futon and walk some now. Hitori had suggested that I remain only in my room so my condition won't worsen. Who was he fooling? I know he just doesn't want me terrorizing people. I don't really care. I don't want to be around hypercritics anyway. The way my so called 'family' smiles to my face and sneer at my back. I don't want their eyes on me at all.
I sit up from my laying down position on my futon. Immediately I get a head rush. My hands clutch the side of my head by my temples, trying to stop my head from pounding like a drum. After a few minutes the pounding in my head began to receed. My vison still wasn't a hundred percent yet but it isn't hazy like the previous day. I scan my dark grey, shadowed room. The shojo screens to my private patio were closed preventing any light to warm my room. A slight rapping at the enterence to my room drew my attention. A voice on the other side of the shojo door spoke up.
"Akito-sama, Shigure and Kyo have arrived. Shall I send them in?" A lady servent asked. Her voice tinged with slight fear for having to be any where near my room.
"Send them in." I replied curtly. As quickly as my weak body would allow, I put on a black autum seasoned Kimono that had white craned birds embroidered on it, and slowly walked over to one of my asian silk sitting pillows and took a seat. Soon the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard. Another slight knock came.
"Enter." My voice emotionless as ever.
The servent slid the shojo door open and in stepped Shigure. It took me great discipline to not ask where Kyo was. I had a sudden urge to lean to the side and try to peek behind him. I settled on glaring at Shigure. Even sick, I could glare my ass off. Shigure, sensing my growing hostility, spoke up.
"Now, now Kyo-san, come in here so Akito-sama can see you." Shigure's voice was light, but I could tell he was just as worried as Kyo; as to why I had demanded Kyo come to the main house. A few mintues later, Kyo entered. An odd sensation began to come over me. My chest constricted slightly; hitching my breath in mid-intake. A new feeling flooded my cold being. It was odd and confusing, it prevented me from looking at Kyo. Instead I focused on the servent at the door.
"Tea. Now." I ordered.
"Hai, Akito-sama." The servent said, quickly dashing off to do my bidden.
Shigure took a seat on the sitting pillow opposite me. Kyo sat beside Shigure, all the while I could feel his fiery eyes on me. It made me shiver and the new feeling inside me dance like a snake being charmed by music.
"I heard you were sick Akito-sama. I hope you are feeling better." Shigure spoke up.
"Hmm." Was my reply. Who was he trying to kid? The last thing anyone wanted was for me to get better.
Those fiery eyes were distracting me, but still, I couldn't bring myself to look at Kyo.
"Everything is in order. My flight is this afternoon at twelve." Shigure said, just as the servent entered with a tray of tea cups and a pot of steaming green tea. She placed it on the low japanese table then left.
Those fiery eyes were still burning my alive.
Shigure spoke again after taking a sip of tea. "Akito-sama, perhaps it would be best if Kyo stayed home or at Shishou's dojo?"
The burning stare intensified and like a magnatic charge, all the hair on my arms and at the back of my neck stood up to greet the blazing caress.
"And why is that Shigure?" I asked; furhter narrowing my eyes at the dog. It was getting increasingly hard to ignore Kyo's piercing gaze.
"I just thought that perhaps-." I cut Shigure off before he could finish his sentence.
"That's a dangerous habbit you have Shigure." My voice was liquid steel.
"What habbit would that be, Akito-sama?" Shigure asked. His light and cheary voice slowly evaporating and showing the true poisonous fruit beneath.
"Thinking." I replied. Our eye contact never breaking.
A tense air zapped with electricity swirled like a strom between us. Half of my mind was busy loathing Shigure and the other half was trying to ignore Kyo's intense gaze.
"You should get going Shigure. It would be a shame if you missed your flight." Despite my weak state, I still hold power over Shigure; my word law.
"I suppose you're right. I'll take my leave." With that said, Shigure stood and walked out of the room. My eyes followed his every move until the door closed and he was out of sight.
Now there was no getting around Kyo's burning gaze. I took another sip of tea to gather myself. When my eyes finally met Kyo's I couldn't breath, couldn't speak; at that moment, I only existed in Kyo's fiery gaze. I was consumed with desire, burning in flames. And when he spoke, my world shattered.
"I hate you."
-------------------------
-End chapter-
TBC
Well there you have it. Another chapter, another day. It seems no one likes this story but I will continue writting this story anyways. I hope more people will review and let me know what you guys think.
Also, I have I will be updating my other story "Flames of Purgatory" as soon as possible so please have patience.
A/N: This chapter starts off with a dream. All context pertaining to the dream are in italics.
Non Compos Mentis
Title meaning: (Latan) One that is not of sound mind; insanity.
Chapter: 2
I know that I am dreaming. How else could I feel the slightest inclination of happiness? Knowing that this is a dream does not take away its desired affect, nor quench my intense wanting. The hidden need that burns under my skin. The ever closing darkness that lerks beneath my facade. I am captivated by it. I want to smother myself in this intoxicating feeling.
Fiery orange hair shades his half lidded red eyes. Eyes clouded with desire and a primal need that transcends time. A disire I hope desperately is for me. The intoxicated feeling of being desired and wanted can give a person a high like no other drug and I am craving it. As those eyes travel over my naked flesh; I shiver. Those piercing eyes sear every part of my skin they gaze on, leaving invisble welts. He pushes me down onto my futon and slowly crawls on top of me. His actions showing the cat that dwells in him.
His tongue pokes out and teases his bottom lip as he gives me the sexiest grin I have ever laid eyes on. My breath catches in my throat. Although I am surrounded by oxygen, I can't seem to find the air. I'm burning. I'm sweating. My veins pumping alive with a passion so hot, so intense, it could make the sun combust.
His hand caresses my face; I tremble. He wraps me in an embrace; I shiver. He whispers into my ear; I quake. His tongue darts out to travel along the shell of my ear; I crumble.
What is bizarre about this ever occuring dream is that I am being submissive; a role I am not fimilure with. As he positions himself above me, I ponder this question in my fuddled and confused mind. Could it be, that because I hold so much power, I am secretly craving someone to over power me? Do I crave someone to brand me in ownership? Do I want someone to take possession of me?
My thoughts are blocked by intense pleasure as I am taken. My eyes burn and my chest heaves. Yes, this is what I want. This is what I yearn for. The fact hits me like an iceburg.
I wake with a start. I sit up and gulp for air as I scan my pitch black room. I take hold of my shoulders to try and put a stop to the tremors that rack my body. I can't seem to find the air. Panic is grabbing hold of me. I'm so alone. This thought freezes my heart and tears at my soul. I clentch my jaw to stop the souless scream that threatens to erupt from my throat. I draw my knees up to my chest and rock back and forth.
My cold skin has never been touched by warm skin willingly. I crave human contact. I crave it like a starving man dying of hunger. I desire it so much that I am willing to beat and maim the Shoma members just to feel some stimulant of human contact. I want to be cherished and wanted. I want to know my death will have some meaning to it. If I knew someone, anyone, would grieve for me I wouldn't mind holding the burden of God. If only someone would shead a tear at my passing.
"Kyo." The name rips free from my lips.
Alone in my room I am consumed by darkness. Darkness that matches the turmoil filtering through my soul. I prey for the empty darkness to swallow me whole. At least in sleep I can find a sliver of happiness.
Hours later, when the suns weak rays dust away the shadows drapping my room, sleep grants me black emptiness.
-----------------
The days passed with high tention and apprehension. By Monday, my tense and slightly sadistic mood had laid over the whole Shoma estate like a blanket. My nerves were on edge and I lashed out without warning. I was torn between dreading Friday and demanding the Gods to grant me power to fast forward time so Friday would be here.
Tuesday, I had successfully tormented half of the Shoma's under my control. Is it my fualt that I don't know how to deal with emotions? I think not. Through the day I had expirenced many new emotions like: inticipation and nervousness. Right on the spot I decided I didn't like either of those feelings. They made me feel alienated in my own skin. Those feelings made me do things I normally wouldn't do. They chipped away at my emotionless facade. They left me raw and bare on the inside. No, I didn't like these new emotions at all.
On Wednesday, I became extremely ill. It would seem my body over loaded with emotions and needed to shut down and reboot. Needless to say, my 'family' members were more then happy to know I couldn't cause any harm to them for the time being. Just thinking about it brings a snear to my lips. At times like this, I am certain they deserve all the damage I can do to them. All of them deserve to be crushed and battered. They have made me what I am, so I am simply returning the favor.
On Thursday, I was bed ridden. My body weak and fragile. At times like this, I wish I was a butterfly so I could shed my form and become stronger and healty. I can bearly breath for I have ammonia. My lungs weaze like a cigarette junky. My fever made me see odd shapes on the wall. My vision blured from the heat behind my eyelids. Sweat made my cloths and sheets stick to me. The cannibalistic butterflies in my stomach prevented any food from being consumed; causing my already leath body to become smaller. Living like this is worst than death.
By the time Friday came, I had worked myself into a seriously ill state. My disgustingly fragile body was racked by dry heaves. The sweat that escaped my pores was sizzled away by the heat radiating off my skin. Hitori didn't show up this morning with my medication so I was force to bare the pain and agony of this illness. My lungs felt like they were in an iron grip. It hurt to move, to breath, and just being awake in general. I am still weak and partically bedridden but I can get up out of my futon and walk some now. Hitori had suggested that I remain only in my room so my condition won't worsen. Who was he fooling? I know he just doesn't want me terrorizing people. I don't really care. I don't want to be around hypercritics anyway. The way my so called 'family' smiles to my face and sneer at my back. I don't want their eyes on me at all.
I sit up from my laying down position on my futon. Immediately I get a head rush. My hands clutch the side of my head by my temples, trying to stop my head from pounding like a drum. After a few minutes the pounding in my head began to receed. My vison still wasn't a hundred percent yet but it isn't hazy like the previous day. I scan my dark grey, shadowed room. The shojo screens to my private patio were closed preventing any light to warm my room. A slight rapping at the enterence to my room drew my attention. A voice on the other side of the shojo door spoke up.
"Akito-sama, Shigure and Kyo have arrived. Shall I send them in?" A lady servent asked. Her voice tinged with slight fear for having to be any where near my room.
"Send them in." I replied curtly. As quickly as my weak body would allow, I put on a black autum seasoned Kimono that had white craned birds embroidered on it, and slowly walked over to one of my asian silk sitting pillows and took a seat. Soon the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard. Another slight knock came.
"Enter." My voice emotionless as ever.
The servent slid the shojo door open and in stepped Shigure. It took me great discipline to not ask where Kyo was. I had a sudden urge to lean to the side and try to peek behind him. I settled on glaring at Shigure. Even sick, I could glare my ass off. Shigure, sensing my growing hostility, spoke up.
"Now, now Kyo-san, come in here so Akito-sama can see you." Shigure's voice was light, but I could tell he was just as worried as Kyo; as to why I had demanded Kyo come to the main house. A few mintues later, Kyo entered. An odd sensation began to come over me. My chest constricted slightly; hitching my breath in mid-intake. A new feeling flooded my cold being. It was odd and confusing, it prevented me from looking at Kyo. Instead I focused on the servent at the door.
"Tea. Now." I ordered.
"Hai, Akito-sama." The servent said, quickly dashing off to do my bidden.
Shigure took a seat on the sitting pillow opposite me. Kyo sat beside Shigure, all the while I could feel his fiery eyes on me. It made me shiver and the new feeling inside me dance like a snake being charmed by music.
"I heard you were sick Akito-sama. I hope you are feeling better." Shigure spoke up.
"Hmm." Was my reply. Who was he trying to kid? The last thing anyone wanted was for me to get better.
Those fiery eyes were distracting me, but still, I couldn't bring myself to look at Kyo.
"Everything is in order. My flight is this afternoon at twelve." Shigure said, just as the servent entered with a tray of tea cups and a pot of steaming green tea. She placed it on the low japanese table then left.
Those fiery eyes were still burning my alive.
Shigure spoke again after taking a sip of tea. "Akito-sama, perhaps it would be best if Kyo stayed home or at Shishou's dojo?"
The burning stare intensified and like a magnatic charge, all the hair on my arms and at the back of my neck stood up to greet the blazing caress.
"And why is that Shigure?" I asked; furhter narrowing my eyes at the dog. It was getting increasingly hard to ignore Kyo's piercing gaze.
"I just thought that perhaps-." I cut Shigure off before he could finish his sentence.
"That's a dangerous habbit you have Shigure." My voice was liquid steel.
"What habbit would that be, Akito-sama?" Shigure asked. His light and cheary voice slowly evaporating and showing the true poisonous fruit beneath.
"Thinking." I replied. Our eye contact never breaking.
A tense air zapped with electricity swirled like a strom between us. Half of my mind was busy loathing Shigure and the other half was trying to ignore Kyo's intense gaze.
"You should get going Shigure. It would be a shame if you missed your flight." Despite my weak state, I still hold power over Shigure; my word law.
"I suppose you're right. I'll take my leave." With that said, Shigure stood and walked out of the room. My eyes followed his every move until the door closed and he was out of sight.
Now there was no getting around Kyo's burning gaze. I took another sip of tea to gather myself. When my eyes finally met Kyo's I couldn't breath, couldn't speak; at that moment, I only existed in Kyo's fiery gaze. I was consumed with desire, burning in flames. And when he spoke, my world shattered.
"I hate you."
-------------------------
-End chapter-
TBC
Well there you have it. Another chapter, another day. It seems no one likes this story but I will continue writting this story anyways. I hope more people will review and let me know what you guys think.