AN: I really don't like poetry, which makes me feel vaguely guilty. So when I find some poetry I do like, I try to squeeze some use out of it… Thus we have this, which reminded me so much of our two favorite rivals. The poem, The Little Boy Lost, is by William Blake. And, rather importantly, the parent referred to in the actual poem is the masculine one. However, in the case of both Yuki and Kyo, their mothers have proved the more important figures and while Kyo's biological father is admittedly quite the bastard, he has Kazuma. Oh, and the poem… I kept the rather erratic eighteenth century spelling and punctuation. Beg pardon.
Oh! And, about Hatori's eyes… I stick with the manga as much as possible whenever possible, and I thought they were blue. I was dead sure. Turns out they're purple, at least on the cover of the seventh book, so…
Disclaimer: If I could write poetry like this, I wouldn't be bloody well on the site, would I? Well… actually…I would. But I didn't write the poem and I do not now and never will own Fruits Basket.
Dedication: For yukiislikesnow, for many, many reasons.
The Little Boy Lost
"Mother! mother! where are you going?
"O do not walk so fast.
"Speak, mother, speak to your little boy,
"Or else I shall be lost."
The night was dark, no mother was there;
The child was wet with dew;
The mire was deep, & the child did weep,
And away the vapour flew.
The room is very, very large, which, one would think, would make it easier to breathe in. But with this many people in it, one would very obviously be wrong.
It's hot and crowded, and some of the adults have begun to pass from tipsy to drunk, which means the conversation is getting louder. But it's all in the family, so no one really minds.
And if they don't like it and think that matters, then they were born into the wrong family and have been ignoring a life's worth of experience to boot.
Of course, no one will get too drunk. Because what people do when they get drunk is let things slip, and no Sohma does that, not ever. At least not on purpose, not without deliberate nudging.
We've always been more of a smoking family.
A breath of refreshingly cold air whistles in as the porch door slides open and then closed behind a tall, black-haired and purple-eyed young man who had probably stepped out for a breath of fresh air.
I wonder vaguely if it helped Ha-san, and figure that even if it didn't he's likely told himself very firmly that it has and will believe it for long enough to get through this little family gathering.
"Shigure-san," comes the frigid, impatient voice.
"Ah!" I straighten up and bow as Aya's mother walks toward me, pale hair never moving in its perfectly coiffed bun. "May I assist you in any way?"
"My son, have you seen him? Akito-sama wants him." She looks at her watch. "We were supposed to have left by now…"
I frown. "Beg pardon, but Akito wants to see Aya?" What for?
She looks at me blankly, almost nods instinctively, and then shakes her head impatiently. "Yuki."
"Oh." I raise my eyebrows. "Little dove's fled the coop, has he?"
"I don't know… No, he probably just went to fetch something." She looks at me sharply. "Akito-sama trusts you."
"Oh, you flatter me! If I could but lay claim to such a gift –"
She waves an impatient, elegant hand, one shaped so much like Aya's it's a bit disorienting. "Likes you, at least. You're one of his. My point is, if I told him you were going to get Yuki he'd let us leave. So will you cast an eye about so that I can make my appointment?"
"Of course." I say, feeling that this party's lost most of its appeal anyway – the people I needed to speak with are spoken with, everything is set to run smoothly, and if anything momentous happens – which it won't – I have two loyal spies at hand, even if one of them probably won't notice unless he sees it in a mirror.
"Thank you." She smiles tightly – it's no secret she doesn't like me, for many reasons, some of them perfectly valid – and starts off to fetch her husband.
"Where did you see him last?"
She pauses. "In the hallway." She sighs, stalling a moment longer. "To tell the truth, the boy's probably hiding somewhere. I had to be a bit short with him, and you know how over sensitive he is."
I make a noncommittal sound of agreement – she's far beyond use, so making her feel guilty isn't expedient – and this time she really does walk away.
I set out to find little Yun-chan.
An Hour Earlier
"What did you want?"
I'll hit you!
I look at my feet, bangs hiding my eyes.
It isn't wrong if you're mine.
"Well? Yuki, I don't have all night."
"I – Mother, I know Akito is – that he has every right to do – everything he does. But I – I can't live here any longer." The last sentence bursts out, not loudly but filled with tension.
As long as it's not loud, as long as no one hears, she won't get angry.
I don't risk looking up. "I cannot live in the same house as him. I know we're still in the complex, but it would make all the difference if I could just move out of this house." If my bedroom wasn't just a few hallways away from his.
"What are you talking about?"
I finally look up, desperate. "Please, Mother. I have to move out of here." I struggle with every instinct that is screaming at me not to tell, not to even hint, and manage, "He hurt – I got hurt and I –"
She barely even meets my eyes as her vision tracks down to her watch. "I don't have time for this. You live here now; it's just how things are. We can't go against the Head, re-arrange everything, because you fell down. You're twelve now, Yuki. Act your age."
Fell down?
I think again about the night a week ago, as if I've been able to stop thinking of it for more than a few seconds since it happened.
I take a deep breath. I don't want to do this, because I've been pretending all my life that if it came down to it I could. If things got bad enough, this would work. It's my safety net, the one thing left from my immediate family.
And now I'm afraid, certain, that the net is going to break.
"Mother, please trust me. I didn't fall down, and he didn't just hit me. I wouldn't bother
you about something insignificant. But I need to leave." I need you to get me out. I need to know…
Don't you care at all?
She shakes her head vaguely. It isn't that she's being purposefully cruel, really, just that she has other things, more important than I am.
Always. Everything is.
I suppose… I suppose I was hoping that there was something…"Look, Yuki. You are Akito's now, all right? Your father and I barely have legal jurisdiction over you, never mind all this. If you have a problem, go to him."
And she walks away.
Present
Yuki is in the first place I look, his bedroom. He's lying on his stomach on the bed, a book open before him.
I cough politely, leaning on the doorframe, and allow him the dignity of not noticing the way he jerks before he identifies the source of the sound.
Of course, it takes a moment in the pitch-dark room, lit only by the glow from the windows to other rooms, faded and orange by the time it comes through this one.
Odd, seeing as he was reading a moment ago, hmm?
"I told Akito you'd be there in a moment."
He nods, standing without actually sitting on the bed for any longer than a second. He should be fairly healed up by now, but it probably has become something of a habit.
"And I told him you were a bit iffy. Bad sushi. So you can actually take that moment."
He walks past me, waits for me to move so that he can close the door.
"Thank you, Shigure, that won't be necessary." He smoothes out his clothes, making a good, presentable picture.
"Are you sure? I understand you and your mother had a bit of a tiff."
He looks at me curiously. "Oh? No, I just asked her for a favor. Idiotic of me, really." He sounds perfectly casual.
I saunter alongside him as he starts, making him go a bit slower out of politeness. "Mm, you know, you could always ask Ha-san or I for anything you need. We live but to serve our adorable little cousins! Particularly the teenage ones." I stop him in the light spilling from an empty room. "Hold on."
With my sleeve, I wipe the last traces of tear-tracks from his cheeks. "There."
He stares at me silently for a moment, and I add, "It isn't your fault, Yuki. None of it. You can't help who they are."
He looks down, takes a deep breath, and then looks back up.
I can't help him.
He smiles that perfect smile and says, "Thank you, for everything, Shigure." He's being sincere about that, at least. "But I had no right or reason to expect anything but what she gave me. It was my own fault for being so foolish. And I should really get back to the party now."
It isn't that he was crying that bothers me. When people cry… when they're wounded… they're vulnerable. You can hurt them so much more then, true, which is why they don't show you often. But you can also help them.
I watch as he walks with perfect, measured steps back to the crowded room.
It's only after the wounds have scarred that you can't do anything. That it's too late.
No, it's not that...
What bothers me is that he's finished crying.
AN: Okay, Kyo's chapter is coming up this weekend, hopefully. But now that I think about it, with a few gender pronoun shifts, this thing could apply to Akito, Tohru, maybe Haru, probably Rin... Any suggestions, requests?
Please, please review!