Disclaimer: Fruits Basket is the copyrighted property of Natsuki Takaya and Hakusensha. No money was made in the creation or publication of this fic.

Summary: After missing the New Year's celebration, Yuki and Kyo are summoned to the main house and subjected to Akito's twisted punishments. Rated M for adult content.

A Note On Vocabulary: A few Japanese terms are used in this fic, most of which are probably well-known to Fruits Basket fans. However, for the sake of new readers (and viewers of the FB dub), here is a quick guide:

Oi (oy) – Hey (casual)
Hai (hie) – Yes
Nezumi (neh-zoo-mee) – Rat
Neko (neh'-koh) – Cat
Kuso (koo-soh') – Damn (e.g., "Kuso nezumi!" "Damn rat!")
Baka (bah'-kah) – Stupid
-san (sahn) – an honorific; implies respect (e.g., "Honda-san" or "Akito-san")

M e m o r y

by Kate Summerfield

-1-

He had forgotten something.

It was a slow, creeping sensation, like the rising of hairs on the back of his neck. It had been whispering through the dark corners of his mind for a week now, ever since…

Ever since he and Kyo had returned from main house.

Yuki felt his hands clench over the window sill, chipping white paint sticking to his palms. Downstairs, he could hear the sounds of Tohru tidying up after dinner—the scrape of dishes in the sink, the rush of water from the tap, the whine of ancient water pipes. Imagining Honda-san standing there at the sink, up to her elbows in warm, sudsy water, he felt his grip on the sill loosening. Strange, how the mere thought of her could soothe him these days.

"Oi."

He turned, startled, to find Kyo standing in his doorway, one arm leaning casually against the frame. Yuki opened his mouth to ask what the hell Kyo was doing in his bedroom, but the look on the other boy's face made the words catch in his throat.

"What is it?" he said instead.

Kyo's eyes flickered away from his, a hesitance that Yuki had thought was reserved strictly for Tohru. Kyo opened his mouth—

And shut it again.

"Never mind," he muttered, and was gone from the room before Yuki could decipher his expression. It wasn't until much later, when he sitting on the edge of his bed examining a cut he couldn't remember getting, that he realized.

It had been fear.

Kyo's eyes opened in the darkness. The blankets were tangled around his legs, and his skin prickled with cold sweat.

He had been dreaming. Something about a small, cold room—being trapped. Not exactly something new in his nightmares, but no less disturbing for its familiarity. Kicking free of the blankets, he sat up and planted his bare feet on the floor, trying to calm his breathing. The white T-shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin as he moved, so he peeled it off and tossed it into the corner, shivering at the whisper of cool air on his chest.

He sat there for a few minutes, staring at the shadowy reflection of himself in the dresser mirror, then got to his feet and left the room.

The house was quiet. Down the hall, he could hear Shigure's soft snoring, the rustle of blankets from Yuki's room, the slow cadence of a clock.

He made his way downstairs.

He ended up in the kitchen, drinking milk out of the carton and helping himself to some leftovers. As he sat there in the darkness, chewing cold rice and propping his chin up on his hand, he found himself thinking back over the past week, trying to figure out what it was that felt so…wrong about it. Everything had been so normal—or, as normal as it ever got around here, anyway. He and Yuki snapping at each other, Tohru smiling and cooking and cleaning, Shigure making random inappropriate comments. Same as ever.

And then there was the weird stuff. The times he found himself glancing at Yuki out of the corner of his eye, or lingering inexplicably near his bedroom door, or opening his mouth to say something to him, something so important—and then forgetting what it was before he could form the words.

He shook his head and shoved another sticky clump of rice into his mouth.

Maybe he was going crazy. Or maybe…

Maybe something had happened last weekend. Something he wasn't supposed to remember.

He sighed and finished off the rice, the half-remembered whisper of Akito's voice curling like smoke through his mind.

One Week Earlier

"I don't see why we have to go together," Kyo barked, hands shoved deep into his pockets as they approached the main house. "Kuso nezumi," he added, for good measure.

Yuki's expression was as cool as ever, only a slight glint to his violet eyes showing his irritation. "I'm no happier about it than you are, baka neko," he returned calmly. His gaze stayed on the gates as they drew nearer, not even flickering in Kyo's direction. "And we're going together because Akito told Shigure that we should."

"Akito," Kyo muttered, kicking a stone loose from the driveway. He opened his mouth to add a few choice comments about Akito's parentage, but the words dried up in his throat. The main house loomed beyond the gates, silent and watching, and he had the sudden superstitious feeling that Akito could hear his every word.

He shook his head and mumbled something vague and insulting instead, and they walked in silence for awhile.

"Kyo…"

It was a moment before his mind connected the sound of his name with Yuki's voice. They were mere steps from the front gates now, and when he turned to look at the other boy, he found his jaw tight, his shoulders rigid.

"What?"

Yuki glanced at him, just for a moment, before returning his gaze to the gates. His voice was barely above a whisper. "This is probably about New Year's. Akito…isn't happy that we weren't there."

Kyo frowned. "Akito isn't happy you weren't there, you mean."

"Then why are you here too, baka neko?"

Kyo could think of no answer to that, but it didn't matter—they had reached the gates. A man in a suit stared at them through the bars, his face expressionless behind dark sunglasses.

Kyo raised an eyebrow at him. "That outfit's kind of an overkill, don't you think?"

The man's expression didn't twitch. "Sohma Yuki," he said in a deep, flat voice. "Sohma Kyo. Akito is waiting."

For some reason, the words sent a tremor up Kyo's spine. Beside him, Yuki drew in a deep breath, as if filling his lungs before diving into deep water. "Hai," he said.

The gates slid open with a creak of old hinges, and together, they walked inside.

The room was cool, drafty. Kyo's neck was already aching from maintaining the bow for so long, but he didn't dare lift his head. Through the edge of his vision, he could see Akito lounging at the front of the room, a blur of colorful robes stretched over a pile of cushions. He wished for the hundredth time that he could've stayed home.

Beside him, Yuki was still and silent, the model of perfect behavior as usual. Not wanting to be outdone, Kyo swallowed his impatience and forced himself to stay just as still, just as silent and respectful. After a time, Akito stood with a rustle of silken cloth.

"I appreciate the two of you coming to see me," he murmured. His voice was its usual sibilant whisper, soft and seductive with a hint of a smile pulling at the words. "Your lives are so busy these days… I'm honored that you could find time to visit me."

Yuki bowed lower. "Hai, Akito-san."

Kyo scowled, then imitated the move. "Hai, Akito-san," he muttered.

Akito made a soft sound, as of drawing a breath in surprise. "Ahh, such respect you show me. I could almost forget how disappointed I was when you didn't come to the New Year's celebration. I was so hoping you would come. Everyone here is very fond of you."

Kyo swallowed, feeling the sweat breaking out on his brow and hoping it didn't show. He felt so exposed, kneeling here with his forehead nearly to the floor, cold air tickling the back of his neck. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Abandoning the silent battle of wills, he sat up and faced the Head of the House of Sohma.

But Akito wasn't looking at him. He had moved to the window and was leaning against the sill, his face hidden by a spill of dark hair.

"It just goes to show," Akito mused. His fingers trailed against the window sill, dust staining his white skin. "Even someone who has been taught again and again the ways of respect can falter…dishonor himself and his family for childish, selfish reasons. Such behavior cannot be allowed in this—" Akito paused before drawing out his words like a razor slashing through silk. "—honorable family. What, then, would be a fitting way to correct such a fault…Yuki? How might the lesson be learned so it is never forgotten?"

His frown deepening, Kyo glanced over at Yuki—and froze.

Yuki was shaking. His hands were clenching and unclenching on the floor, his eyes wide with fear. In the silence of the room, the sudden harshness of his breathing was loud, grating.

Suddenly consumed with the need to do something, Kyo turned angry eyes back to Akito. "If you're gonna yell at us, just do it," he growled. "Otherwise, we're going home."

Akito didn't respond for a long moment, scraping his fingernail against the sill until the paint flaked off and drifted to the floor like snow. Finally, he turned from the window. The corners of his lips twitched upwards as if in some private joke. "Isn't this your home?" he asked softly. "Weren't you born here? Didn't you grow up within these walls?" The smile twisted, growing hard and taunting. "You will both stay here this weekend. Here, in your home. And perhaps by the end of your stay, you will have learned what it means to be a Sohma."

Kyo exchanged a shocked glance with Yuki, but before he could open his mouth to protest, rough hands closed over his arms and dragged him to his feet.

"Hey! " he managed, trying to twist around to see his assailant. "What the— Akito!"

Yuki, he saw, was having the same trouble he was; a man in a dark suit had pinned his arms behind his back and was holding him in place. Not that Yuki was struggling, Kyo noticed with a scowl. The other boy was just standing there, looking weary and defeated with his head hanging down.

His attention snapped away from Yuki at the sound of slippers against the floor. He turned—

And reeled as Akito's palm slapped hard across his face. He struggled back to a standing position, blinking and tasting blood on his tongue.

Once he had straightened, Akito reached out and rested a hand on his stinging cheek, and with those dark eyes boring into him, Kyo didn't dare pull away.

"Such rudeness," Akito chided, and the smile was back in his voice. "I think you've been a bad influence on our Yuki." He let his fingertips slide over Kyo's face, tracing the curve of his jaw, the rise of his lips. "We'll have to remedy that, won't we, Kyo-kun?"

Kyo shivered.

Akito smiled and pulled away, and with a wave of his hand, dismissed the visitors from his presence.

"Why didn't you say anything back there, baka nezumi?" Kyo hissed. "You just stood there and took it."

Yuki said nothing. He'd been doing that a lot lately, ever since Akito's thugs had shoved them in here over an hour ago. Feeling his claustrophobia rearing up again, Kyo cast an anxious glance at their surroundings. The room was small and cramped, the ceiling so low that he had to stoop when he stood up, the floor barely large enough for him to stretch out his legs. The only light came from a tiny slat in the door, just wide enough to fit his fingers through.

With a sigh, he leaned his head back against the wall and wondered how long Akito intended to keep them here. He finally decided that it was best not to think about it and closed his eyes, wondering what Tohru was doing back at the house. Maybe folding the laundry, humming softly to herself as she worked, or going through the pantry in search of something to make for lunch, or…

"He's not just going to keep us in here." Yuki's voice was so low it was almost unrecognizable.

Kyo opened his eyes to find the other boy sitting curled up in the corner, his head resting against the wall, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

Kyo frowned. "What do you mean?"

Yuki shook his head, and for a moment his eyes were dark and haunted. "I don't know what he's going to do this time. But he'll do it himself, and he won't be satisfied until…"

"What?" Kyo leaned forward, dread spreading icy fingers in his stomach. "Until what?"

Yuki turned his face away. His voice was a whisper, small and trembling. "Until he's proved that he owns you. Until...you'll do anything to make him stop."

The Present

Yuki was dreaming. The world was a tiny place, four stone walls and a low voice in the darkness. Then there was warmth, touch—rough lips on his own, a hand catching in his hair. Yes. Yes. Anything to push back the darkness, anything to make the walls fade for just a little while…

Hard, hungry kisses, a soft and needy sound sliding from his own lips—answered by a growl, a purr. Wanting him. Needing his touch. He obliged by instinct more than thought, tearing free buttons and then sliding his hands over smooth, warm skin, feeling out the ridges of muscle and ribs, the curve of broad shoulders. Need burned through him, making him feel shaky and overheated, but through the darkness he found the glimmer of dark eyes and locked onto them, needing to see, know…

The eyes stared back, and for a moment the only sound was the harsh rhythm of breathing. Then he felt the press of a warm hand under his shirt, callused fingers trailing over the soft expanse of his stomach. The eyes were dark and full, heavy with desire. He felt himself nod, his breath catching in anticipation.

The warm touch slid down, slowly, trembling—

He sucked in a breath, eyes going half-closed as strong fingers closed over him, capturing him in a tight, heated grip. They slid along his length, curling more fully around him as they moved, then dragged back down again with a slow, careful friction. Yuki let out a shuddering breath. The motion continued for a few seconds, building in strength and speed…

Then he felt himself being pushed down, onto his back. "What—" he managed.

The only answer was a whisper of hot breath against him and then, impossibly, the slide of warm, moist lips over his flesh.

Later, in a haze of fading sensation: "Why?" His own voice, gasping in the darkness. "Why did you do that?"

"Maybe…I wanted to win over you, just once."

The smile was a slash of white below glittering eyes.

"Baka nezumi."

Yuki snapped awake with a choked breath, and for a long time lay panting in his bed, staring with wide eyes at the ceiling.