When I have ideas for fanfictions they’re usually very vague and gradually develop as I write. I was cooking ramen last night when a rabid plot bunny attacked me violently with this fic in its entirety. That never happens. This is the darkest thing I’ve ever written, be warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket.

Warning! This fan fiction contains violence, character death, and other emo stuff. Read at the risk of your own sanity. Also, if you’re an Akito fan, I warn you he’s unbelievably evil in here (and a man).

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If someone had told Yuki Sohma he was about to experience the worst day of his life, odds are he would’ve smiled slightly and disagreed. Okay, so he had the flu and he felt like absolute crap, but the worst day? Come on, don’t be ridiculous. Besides the occasional headache and runny nose, he was fine. In fact, he was better than fine, he was great! He had the best caretaker in the world! She always knew exactly how to cheer him up and make him well again.

Oh, and did I mention he’d managed to avoid visiting the main house? Yes, God bless his weak immune system, it’d saved him from facing Akito. The family head had summoned Shigure, Kyou, and himself to the estate without reason, simply stating they must be there at eight o’ clock sharp. But Yuki’s body wasn’t up to traveling, especially that early in the morning, so Shigure pardoned him from the trip. He didn’t bother phoning in advance to warn of the rat’s absence, deciding it was best to inform Akito in person.

He was left alone in the house with his ever doting Tohru. She’d gently convinced (forced?) him into eating breakfast before going back to bed, positive it would help bring back some of his strength and speed up his recovery. After she’d returned from placing their dirty dishes in the sink, she helped him stand from the floor he was sitting on. She took his hand, leading him slowly down the hall and up the stairs, not wanting to rush his weakened body. Finally they reached his room, and Tohru helped cover him up in bed, tucking the blankets firmly around his form.

“I’m going to start loading the laundry,” she told him, her voice a sweet whisper in his ear, “You stay here and get some sleep, okay?” he gave her a small nod and relished the lovable smile he got in return. She ran her fingers through his bangs, her palm resting on his forehead, checking his temperature. He closed his eyes secretly enjoying her soft touch. “You’re not burning up as much as yesterday,” she retracted her hand and he mourned the loss of her soothing cool skin, “I’m glad.” He stared after her as she stood and left the room, clicking off the ceiling light on her way, “Rest up.” She chimed, her footsteps soon fading away.

Yuki tried to sleep. Really, he did. But for some reason he couldn’t doze off. He gazed blankly out his window, past deep green leaves of surrounding trees, toward a magnificent blue sky. It was a beautiful sunny day, and he was stuck inside. His thoughts wandered. He should be out there in the light, shouldn’t he? Gardening with Tohru? Ah, that’d be wonderful. He loved gardening with her. He hoped their strawberries would be ripe soon. He couldn’t wait to see her face when those small white flowers became bright red fruit. He found himself smiling widely, trying to imagine her joy. She was pleased with such simple things.

His daydreaming was cut short by a loud odd sound, like that of a tire popping. He would’ve dismissed it if not for the rustle of fluttering leaves, and sight of falling twigs that came from a tree by the driveway. It wasn’t breezy, so why…? He sat up, his head giving a slight throb at the movement, and looked down at the ground. He was shocked to discover Akito, standing still by the porch, a pistol raised to the sky. What the hell?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Akito’s dark eyes were fixed intensely on the sliding shouji doors of Shigure’s house. He’d just fired a noisy bullet up into the air, and was waiting. Waiting for that conceded Tohru Honda to investigate the sound, give into her curiosity, face him and her death. Yes, death. She needed to be disposed of.

He’d been a fool to allow her into his family in the first place. It had been a game, and somehow he ended up losing. He’d been planning to erase Tohru’s memories as soon as he felt Yuki had grown attached to her; a cruel way of reminding him he couldn’t escape by running away. Akito wanted to show he was still in control, that he could take away anything the rat desired. Yet when he went to Hatori to finish the game, Hatori wouldn’t play. The doctor refused to wipe Tohru’s mind free of Yuki and the Sohma family.

Akito didn’t understand. He was god. His opinions and requests were the only ones that mattered. It was his choice who knew the secret. His choice who lived, or died. When did she, an ugly ungrateful orphan, take his place? She could not save the Zodiac, she was not their savior. With her death, he was going to prove it. His twelve cherished animals and the hideous cat- none of them would ever disobey or leave him again. Her corpse would guarantee it.

He caught something move in the corner of his eye and glanced up to an open window, black meeting violet. Akito’s anger flared up a notch, furious Yuki had ignored his orders for him to return to the main house. His scowl gradually twisted into a satisfied smirk. Maybe it was better this way. His defiant rodent could watch her die.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Yuki’s blood ran cold seeing Akito’s warped grin. What was he plotting? The walls began to gurgle, shaking him from his confused and frightened contemplations. He listened as water rushed through pipes in the house, no doubt aiding some larger appliance to fulfill its job.

The washing machine! He tore his attention from the window, his heart wrapped in horror. Yuki leapt from his bed, and for a few stressful seconds was tangled in the sheets. Freeing his legs, he stumbled out of his room, rushing downstairs to where Tohru did the laundry. She raised her gaze from sorting her second load of clothing, “Yuki-kun,” surprise was evident on her features, “What are you-”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish, grabbing her wrist and yanking her out into the hallway. She obviously hadn’t heard the gunshot, so he wasn’t wasting time to explain. They needed to leave, now! As if sensing his panic, Tohru refrained from questioning him further. He pulled her to the back porch, reaching out to tug the sliding door open. It didn’t budge. Even with his illness, he knew he wasn’t that weak. Doors were easy to slide over. It wasn’t locked. So why…? His distress had delayed him from observing the tall shadow that loomed on the other side of the wooden panels.

“I can’t let you out.”

The male’s voice was deep, monotone, yet Tohru picked up a drop of regret in it. Yuki recognized the tone, even if he’d only heard a few sentences from the man in his lifetime, “Kureno!” Yuki smashed his shoulder to the door, hoping to break it down, but he wasn’t strong enough. Why did he have to be sick when he needed his health more than ever? “Dammit, Kureno, let us out!” They had to run, he had to protect Tohru. That look in Akito’s eyes. It was murder.

“I’m sorry but,” the dark figure paused, and Yuki let his hopes rise a little. Maybe his cousin was reconsidering. No such luck, “Akito!” The rat retreated quickly from the door. Damn you, Kureno! He hurried through the house, ducking through the kitchen to snatch a knife from the cutting block. He gripped it tightly in his right hand, his left hand still wrapped almost painfully around Tohru’s wrist. If they encountered Akito in the hall, he’d have to try to fight. He wasn’t an idiot; he realized his puny blade wouldn’t stand a chance against Akito’s gun. It was suicide.

Yuki peeked out into the hall, and finding no one, walked out of the kitchen. He had no idea what to do. Both exits were blocked, and they could easily be shot if they tried climbing out a window. He hated whatever idiot created guns. Before he could even attempt to think up a solution, the front door slid open, sending Yuki into a panic. He dove for the stairs, Tohru right by his side. They heard a gun shot, but didn’t look back, running blindly up the staircase.

Reaching the upper hall’s dead end, Yuki opened up a small broom closet to their right and pulled her inside with him. He closed the door quickly, locking it with trembling fingers. His heart was racing. His head felt like it was splitting in two. He struggled to catch his breath, his throat tightening dangerously. He leaned his back against the wall, forcing himself to calm down, not wanting to suffer an attack. Some help he’d be then. He closed his eyes, some rational thought returning. His breathing slowed. His eyes adjusted to the poor lighting in the closet. A small sob met his ears. He turned his head and noticed Tohru’s tears for the first time. How long had she been crying?

“Honda-san…” It was hardly a whisper, but she raised her tearful gaze to meet his anyway. He felt miserable, standing there in the dark, unable to comfort her. Perhaps he could tell her everything was going to be okay, that Akito wouldn’t do anything to harm them; he was merely trying to scare them. The words wouldn’t leave his mouth, and with a nauseating twist of his stomach, he figured out why. He’d be lying. One look into Akito’s eyes had told him that.

What was that fiend planning to do to Tohru? Yuki repositioned his body, facing her. She was shaking, terrified. His heart began to break. He leaned down, resting his cheek against hers wet with tears. One of his hands lifted from lying limp at his side, lacing its fingers into the long silky tresses of her chocolate colored hair. It was the closest thing he could do without embracing her. Turning into a rat at this point would be moronic of him.

What could he do to protect her? He’d suffered Akito’s torture in the past. He didn’t want Tohru to suffer as he had. There was no way Akito would try to take her down with one bullet, that death was too humane for a monster like him. Yuki felt queasy, his mind reeling with all the horribly true possibilities. That bastered, he squeezed the kitchen knife tighter in his anger and despair. It had somehow slipped in his grasp, the thin blade now cutting into the palm of his hand.

The knife…

He pulled away from Tohru, looking down at it briefly, a dark thought entering his mind. Instead of being helpless, watching Akito shoot her, torture her, or do God knows what else, he could end it right now, minimum pain. No! Yuki shook his head fiercely, dismissing idea promptly. There’s no way he could ever- he wouldn’t- it was disgusting!

…but what other option was there?

Bang!

Akito must’ve fired another shot down the hall to mock them. He heard the muffled maniacal laughter, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He was singing. He was actually enjoying this.

Yuki clenched his teeth, disbelieving the action he was about to take. He would save Tohru in the last remaining way. He wouldn’t let her die in agony from Akito’s assault. He was going to- no, he couldn’t think it. He had to hurry and do it before he chickened out.

“Honda-san,” he gazed down into her trustful ocean blue orbs, wishing he could read her mind. He took in her delicate features, the curl of her dark lashes, the cute roundness of her cheeks, her pert little nose, her pale pink and slightly parted lips. She was beautiful. Could he really…? I have to.

“Please,” his body had begun to shake again, though it was hardly noticeable in the dim illumination around them, “Forgive me.” He closed the gap between them, hoping to distract her from any ensuing pain with an unexpected kiss. The hand in her hair traveled down to her neck, running over the warm flesh, swiftly finding her pulse. He jerked the kitchen knife up, closing his eyes in dread. He slid the shining blade across her skin, cutting deep enough to split the vital vein he’d found.

Her blood rushed out to coat his fingers and shirt, he didn’t need to see it to know. He could feel the crimson liquid, sticky, sickeningly warm. She lost her footing, and he toppled down with her to the ground, holding her body as close as possible. “I’m so sorry,” his voice was cracking, his heart completely maimed, “I…” he doubted she could hear him, “I love you.” He was apologizing for his deed, and asking forgiveness for his love. If he hadn’t fallen in love with her- if he’d just asked Shigure to rent out a camping spot for her that one time, a couple years back- she wouldn’t have been in this predicament. Akito wouldn’t be so angry. He wouldn’t have had to-

Bang!

“Yuki,” the madman’s voice taunted him, “Bring me that pathetic girl and I promise I won’t punish you too severely.” He carefully shifted Tohru’s lifeless form, laying her down as much as he could in the small space. He then stood, unlocking the closet, and stepped out into the blinding light of the hall. He closed the door behind him, the click of its handle gaining Akito’s attention. He turned, poised threateningly by the head of the stairs, “There you are, Yuki.” He hated it when Akito smiled like that. It was so chilling, so different from her smile. But she would never smile again, Yuki reminded himself sadly.

“Give me Tohru Honda.” It was a simple demand.

“No.” It was a simple answer.

Akito’s fury got the better of him, and hoping to frighten Yuki into submission, he raised the gun, pointing its barrel in the rat’s direction. “I said,” he repeated his request, “Give me Tohru Honda.”

“No.”

There was something in the look Yuki gave him that pushed Akito over the edge. His eyes, his whole demeanor, seemed to say “I hate you.” The nasty little rat was looking down on him, down on his god. “How dare you disobey me,” Akito seethed, “Know your place!” In his pure rage, his fingers twitched violently, and he pulled the trigger. Hearing the bang Akito’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to shoot.

If someone had told Yuki Sohma he was about to experience the worst day of his life, odds are he would’ve smiled slightly and disagreed.

If someone had told him he was living his last day on earth, he would’ve laughed at such an outlandish thought.

If someone had told him he was going to kill Tohru Honda before the sun set, he would’ve taken offence. He would’ve said, “I’d never hurt Honda-san, much less kill her.” Then he would’ve stormed off to find her, determined to prove she was safe and sound.

It’s nice to ponder what he would’ve done, wonder the “what ifs”, secretly wishing things had turned out differently. Yet they didn’t. What’s done cannot be undone. Tragedies cannot be rewritten into fairytales where everyone lives happily ever after. Yuki knew this. Feeling the bullet from Akito’s gun tear through the skin of his chest, ripping a hole into his already shattered heart, he knew. Feeling the blood from his wound seep into his clothing, bleeding into his lungs and broken bones, he knew. Hearing the slamming of doors, and yelling from downstairs, he knew. Watching Kyou grab Akito from behind, Shigure wrenching the gun from his frozen hand, he knew. The shocked and fearful expressions, oh God, he knew.

Yuki’s fell to his knees, his vision blurred, his mind and body numb. Shigure’s hazy silhouette came closer, shouting his name. Suddenly, it all became silent. Yuki couldn’t hear his cousin’s panicked voice anymore. His legs gave way, and he collapsed into what should’ve been warm arms, yet they were cold. Everything was cold. He hated it. Tears gathered at the corners of his closed eyes, not from pain, but at the realization; he knew. Somewhere deep inside, he’d known all along. His love was damned from the start…

He was the cursed rat.

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Whoa! There is no way this just came from my happy little mind. It’s too upsetting. I’m not the only one who wants closure, right? So instead of flames, convince me to write an epilogue. Not to say same flames aren’t welcome, they are, I’d probably want to flame me too if I wasn’t me. Yuki, Tohru, forgive me for killing you!

-SilverYouko300