A/N: Eh. I got confused with the tenses at first, but that worked itself out (:. My writing has been really stiff lately. This is my very-very-rough loosen-upper. Yay for hardly coherent free-writing…
Short oneshot. Pure randomness.
Fruits Basket
Kyoquoise
I suppose I can blame it all on that idiot class president.
Now, believe me, if it were up to me, I would definitely not choose such an unnatural shade of orange for my otherwise beautiful hair. I mean, orange? Orange is the colour of orangutans. Orange is the colour of the sun in a kindergartener's doodle. Orange is the colour of…orange juice.
Orange is definitely not meant for a man's hair. Not this bright orange, anyhow.
"Please get your butt-ugly hair colours out of the school, Sohmas," was what the letter had read. Well, not exactly. But that had been the bulk of it. The idiot rat had read it over my shoulder, stifling one of his annoying man-giggles.
"Why is your hair orange anyways, Kyo?" he had teased. Man, that guy makes my blood boil.
"I'm a damn cat," I had spat into his face.
"And?"
"And cats are…" I had paused, thinking hard about what colour cats really were.
"…not really such an obnoxious orange, are they?"
"Shut up!" was my smart remark. "There are pure-orange cats out there!"
"Where? Out there? With your sanity?" The rat laughed.
I stared at him. "That wasn't funny." I recall growling that sentence quite ferally. Must've been that irresistible cat in me.
"Let's make a bet then," he had proposed.
"What?"
"For every day you cannot bring me a live cat with the same colour fur as your hair, you pay up." He paused, in thought. "2000 yen."
Truthfully, my brain was most likely in kill-the-rat mode at that point. There was no room to let "rational thinking" in. "Deal. And if I do bring you one, you'll dye your hair green."
"That's it?" he asked with an amused smirk. "It's on, then."
Uh oh. Well, at least I thought that was a good punishment…
Now that I'm into day four of this mess, I'll owe the rat…four times two thousand…eight thousand (?) yen by the end of today. See? I love my self-confidence. Maybe this is why I never win anything – I get discouraged before I even try.
But really, the money isn't what matters. What really gets to me is the fact that I realized after the bet that rats weren't purple.
"No way. Rats aren't purple?" you may say, all your sarcasm smeared onto that one phrase.
I'd tell you, "Shut up." Smart, I know. Later, I had asked Yuki why his hair was purple, hoping to get out of the bet. He had said a simple "I don't know, Kyo."
His grin made me gag. I suppose my pride can even beat a peacock's butt-feathers. So maybe this wasn't that idiot class president's fault after all.
"Kyo, what's wrong?" Tohru asks softly.
Sometimes I swear I have some sort of sign on my forehead that says, "I'M DEPRESSED, COME BOTHER ME" that I can't see.
"Nothing."
"Huh, really?" she says indifferently. "Yuki's been in a really bright mood today."
That girl always knows how to get me to talk. "I'm destitute," I mumble unintelligibly.
"Excuse me?" Her large blue eyes widen. I groan.
"Destitute."
"Oh..."
Somehow, I don't even want to know what goes on in Honda Tohru's mind. At times, she can actually be smart – according to Shigure, anyways. I've yet to see such a miracle.
"…what does that mean?" she finishes bluntly.
Right. A miracle.
"I have to pay Yuki two thousand yen for every day I don't bring him an orange cat," I explain.
"But those don't really exist, Kyo," she says, confused.
"I know," I mutter dryly.
"But you know, that doesn't matter. You're an orange cat, Kyo. And that's all that really counts. You're unique. Isn't that what every member of the zodiac is?" Tohru asks with a smile.
"You don't see Kisa as a blue tiger," I say bitterly. Propping my head in my hand, I sigh dramatically.
Yes, my life is tragic.
But then again, the girl had a point. I am an orange cat. I am alive. Would the rat buy that? No.
Please contact me if you have or have seen a pure orange cat. Send me a picture. Stuff it in a box and mail it over here. Anything. (Just make sure it isn't dead…and make sure you don't kill it. I know those orange felines are quite scrumptious – like me, of course – but you'll have to resist.)
Until then, I'll be the orange-haired man standing on the four-way intersection known as Fifth and Eighth.
I'm pretty hard to miss, even if I do say so myself.