I got the idea for this fic while I was riding my bike down a very steep hill...bad idea, I know. But I got the idea to write a fic with the title "Ignorance Is Bliss", and I started wondering what I should write it about...KyoxYuki, obviously. I'm a poet. Poets be as poets do. Pairings...YukixKyo, KyoxYuki, whatever you want to call it. Rated T.

Actually I might call it "Sohma Kyo and the Half-Blood Princess".

Disclaimer: I be a disclaimer. I disclaim. So here I am, disclaiming. EKAKI DOES NOT OWN FRUITS BASKET HOWEVER MUCH SHE MAY WANT TO ALTHOUGH SHE IS RATHER GOOD AT FANARTING IT! There's also some Half-Blood Prince crossovers, so I don't own Harry Potter either. Only the Holy Goddess J.K. Rowling may have that honor.

Yeah, I fanart. I'm working on one with Shigure dressed up as Miroku from InuYasha. It's coming along great.

Kyo looks so freakin' CUTE in his gi. -huggles manga-

The ache vibrated through Kyo's battered body, causing him to flinch visibly. He blinked, leaning on the conveniently placed doorway. He would just rest here...recover, until he could make his way back to his room, where he could collapse onto the bed, too sore to go up to the roof, mutter curses into the blankets and eventually fall asleep - at 4 pm - just to avoid going back downstairs. His toned muscles ached. His bones ached. His very blood ached. Even his eyelashes ached.

Kyo had just come upstairs after a fight with Yuki, and lost again. He always did, but he kept on coming back for more. Kyo had started craving those fights, like an author in the middle of a story craves her computer. He would start them with an idle insult, hoping against hope that Yuki would take him up and fight, they would trade casual, unnecessary punches, and then Yuki would beat him easily. It was become routine.

Kyo knew the outcome every time he started the fights, but he found himself coming back, always. With every punch Yuki landed, Kyo found himself softening a little into the contact, smiling a little (but only in the back of his mind), making himself just that much easier to defeat.

Is that sick? How I enjoy being hit?

The ache sometimes felt like his body couldn't contain it - when that happened, he bit one of his own fingers, which he did now. It helped, a little, like squeezing one of your parent's hands when you get your ears pierced - not that Kyo knew what that felt like. The throbbing in his right arm let up a little. Kyo took his index finger out of his mouth, dismayed to see a line of thick blood running down it to pool in his palm. In disgust, he brushed it against the side of his pants, leaving a red smear. He moaned. He would have to wash these himself - Tohru would ask.

Kyo's gaze wavered, at last bringing what he was seeing into focus. A blurry focus, but a focus all the same. The room belonging to the doorway he was resting on was...Yuki's? Yes...and there was his own room, alllllll the way down the hall. Maybe...he could rest here just a few moments more. Assuming Yuki did not return from where he'd gone to work in the garden, or whatever.

His foot moved forward, taking one more step to the comfort waiting at the end of the hall, but it ran into a pile of...what? Of seemingly randomly assembled junk, piled just inside Yuki's open door. He blinked again, and found that he had dropped to his knees, and his hands were shifting through the pile, pulling out first a couple CDs on the top. Us and Them. Leave a Whisper. Let Go. RENT. An ivory bathrobe. The phrase "Curiosity killed the cat" echoed through his mind, searching for a neuron that cared to connect to. It found none.

Then he came across the book.

It looked like any ordinary novel, or maybe a diary. It was hardbacked, and of a deep, rich brown color, trimmed in gold. Kyo, running a finger down one of the gold streaks, found that it wasn't gold leaf, but golden glitter. How cheap. You could probably buy a bottle of that crap at the corner Wall-Mart for less than two hundred yen. Kyo glanced around surreptitiously. Would it be stealing...if he took this book? He'd return it. He just wanted to look at it...there was something about the cool feeling of the cover under his fingers that intrigued him.

Kyo moved to his feet in one fluid motion, dashing down the hall to his room, aches suddenly forgotten in the rush. Finally collapsing onto his slightly cool, soft bed he found that the book was still in his hand. He waited for his breath to slow, for his heart rate to calm down, for the adrenaline to stop pumping through his blood. He wiped a thin layer of sweat off his forehead.

Flipping the book open, Kyo noted the obvious lack of a copyright page. In place of a title page, there was only this inscription in flowing calligraphy:

"This is a book of poems

I tell you to beware

Some you may find disturbing

Read onwards if you dare."

Around the words, there was a hand-drawn illustration of eight roses, connected by one vine, circling the print. Kyo bent his nose closer to the pages, to inspect what seemed to be a bad print job - the roses had dark blotches smeared all over them. His eyes widened in shock when he found the blotches to be bloodstains. He let out a little gasp when he realized that the bloodstains were drawn in - they were supposed to be there.

Yeah...that's kind of disturbing, Kyo mused, agreeing with the author. The next page was marked "1", seemingly the start of the book. A poem, or set of poems, per page.

"I imagine...

I imagine moonlight to be cool to the touch

I imagine it to be smooth

I imagine it to smell like snow on a cold winter's dawn

I imagine moonlight to be fickle

I imagine it to leap about when you try to catch it

Or even stretch out a hand to caress the wings of graceful moonlight

Like a ripple

I imagine it doesn't care what I think about it

I imagine moonlight doesn't give a damn about me

I imagine it would think the Earth would be better off if I wasn't on it

Moonlight reminds me

Of myself."

Hardly disturbing. Kyo read the poem several times. He felt something inside of him, something restless, calm down and settle back into place. A cool feeling calmed the ache in his heart - but did absolutely nothing for his sore muscles. He blinked, trying to concentrate on the poem, to read it once again, but the pain in his leg brought him back down to Earth. I need an Advil...and then I can read the next poem.

Kyo's feet padded lightly down the stairs, his hand traced the wall, steadying him, but his mind was back in his room, mulling over the poem again. And again. What could that line mean…? And when…? It was almost a shock to him when he found himself outside the downstairs bathroom, next to the medicine cabinet. Dreamlike, he reached out one hand to open the medicine cabinet door, only to find he wasn't as close to it as he'd thought. Kyo took a step forward, looking like some kind of absurd one-armed zombie. His somewhat sweaty hand grasped the handle, just barely slipping, yanking it open.

The back of the Advil bottle stated two pills for him. Kyo tipped the bottle, pouring out three, and replaced one back into the lavender sea that was the economy-sized Advil bottle. He popped one into his mouth, and was popping the second, when...

The bathroom door creaked open. Kyo felt a shimmer of dismay (and...? What else? You can do this, Kyonkichi!) when a hint of grey hair appeared around the door - a slim, graceful body followed it. Yuki glanced at the Cat, Advil bottle in his hand, pain in his crimson eyes, the same hurt echoed in his tense stance. Yuki said nothing, merely tilted his chin in a classic "I'm so much better than you" gesture, liquid amethyst eyes filled with distain, and strode away, hips swaying slightly.

Kyo ground his fist into the wall. Yuki just had to catch him at a moment like this, when filled with weakness and pain he'd given in to the painkiller, only proving to Yuki that he'd managed to truly defeat Kyo once more. Yuki was so frickin' insensitive. He didn't give a damn about Kyo's feelings, he didn't stop for a minute to consider that he had actually sprained Kyo's ankle - Kyo himself had just realized this. Yuki was so full of himself.

Unlike whoever wrote those poems, Kyo thought to himself. I'm sure whoever that author is understands what it feels like when no one cares about you.

Unlike Princess Yuki, here.

I just made Kyo sound like a total druggie..."give in to the painkiller". I meant that he considers it weak to take Advil. Silly Kyonkichi. Now, if he said "I like Children's Motron! Tastes gooood!" THAT would be freaky.

And, YES, the first chapter is freakishly short. It's sort of a prologue - Kyo finds the book and is already comparing Yuki to the author - second chap is lots longer, and on it's way.

Please review! I want to know what you think of my sucky poetry! And I need your help in vanquishing the evil floating dolphin! You know, the one with the naginata, over next to the
shizophrenic turtle with the Holy Hand Grenade of Street Cred.