A/N: Another day in the exciting life of Akito. Just a bit of exploration into his character. Read at your own risk.

This Disclaimer has Cooties: If I owned Fruits Basket, I wouldn't really need to write fanfiction now would I? The lyrics are from 'Kokain', by Rammstein. Yay. (English translation at the bottom)

The Sweetest Child

Du bist das schönste kind von allen
Ich halt dich wie mein eigen blut
Du bist das schönste kind
In mir ist auch das böse gut

It was so… real. The small bird fidgeted nervously, its tiny nails lightly scratching the pale flesh of his finger. Its hard little feet were so solid, so tangible, its snow-white breast rising and falling as it cocked its head to the side, beady black eyes blinking up at him with wary curiosity. It seemed more like a dream.

"You are the sweetest child of all,"

He watched it go, tiny wings seeming too fragile to carry it as it fluttered away to join its brethren in the surrounding foliage. A thin, ashen arm reached out slightly, fingers trembling as if in hopes to call it back, then slumping weakly back to his side. It didn't do one any good… to chase after dreams.

Wide, violet eyes gazed deep into his own, so beautiful and empty.

"Does it hurt?"

His shoulders drooped, a slight scowl twisting his icy features as he turned away from the sunlit garden. Finding no solace in the muted grays of his barren room either, his gaze finally fell to his own spindly bare legs, sprawled across his futon. He swallowed his disgust as his head snapped back up to glare bitterly at the tiny white birds chirping in the beautiful garden. He wanted them… he wanted them to all go away, to fade away like a nightmare after waking.

But his nightmare would never- could never fade away. It was always there, in sleeping and in wake, throbbing within his heart, seeping through his veins like a black cancer. In his carefully sheltered life, it- the Sickness- it was all that was real. He took no delight in any of the pleasantries prepared for him, because he knew… The beautiful mask to hide the ugliness. His castle, his cage. His throne, his deathbed. His scepter, his disease…

Head of the Sohmas, Lord of the flies.

"You're too fragile to play with the others my precious doll, so fragile you might break."

"I guess it is because… you are most important, my dear Akito-san."

His eyes clenched shut against the bright spring sunlight. Why… Why was no one coming- He wanted, he wanted to shut the door, to shut out the light- It was too bright, too bright for him, for this ugly porcelain world of feints within feints within feints. He cradled his face in his hands. Ungrateful… They knew the price he paid, the price he continued to pay, for them…

Wrinkled hands swept gently through sweat-soaked locks, the aged face smiling tenderly down at the feverish boy. Her eyes were cold and distant as he shivered in her arms.

"You are the sweetest child of all," a soft lullaby as the birds chirped somewhere outside, beyond his reach, beyond the thin veil of his consciousness. Her voice hummed unnaturally, trickling down into the very depths of his feverish mind, his trembling heart. "With your blood we pay the price of our sins." The hand gently pulled him to her as she kissed away the tears. The sick mockery of a mothers caress. "You are the loveliest lamb…" she lay him back down upon the futon, his naked body quivering pitifully under the spell of his illness as a faceless man gripped his arm tightly, forcing the needle under the skin. Wild, glazed eyes fluttered weakly, desperately searching the old woman's face for… something. Anything. And such a serene smile look so unholy under such cold, dark eyes, her whispered voice echoing on and on into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness…

"In you, even the evil is good."

"In me…" he felt his soft voice falter, muffled and worthless in his hands. How empty those words seemed to him now.

"I hate you."

"Did you call, Akito-san?" chirped one of the servants timidly, half-hiding behind the door to the main house as if expecting him to hurt her. His head snapped up, lip curling in disgust as he stared at her.

"Close this door. I would like to sleep now."

"Yes sir." She sighed softly in relief while bowing deeply. She then entered the room, his sanctuary, stocking-clad feet padding almost soundlessly across the floor. He watched her absently through half-lidded eyes, the simple grace of her step, imagined the bones churning beneath the flesh.

Fake…

"You should be happy, Akito-san. With your death you ensure the other children happy lives. You shouldn't be selfish. Don't you want them to be happy?"

"I will not be used as a tool by you!"

She gripped the sliding door, pushing it slowly shut. He watched as the light dimmed around him, the small white birds hopping from branch to branch snapping into sudden clarity through the narrowing slit. Panic rose in his throat as he jerked forward sharply. Suddenly, he didn't want to be alone in his room. Alone with…

Sightless eyes gazed blindly out into eternity, sharp black fading to milky gray as it lay in perfect stillness on the bottom of its cage. Even its curled and twisted legs were perfectly motionless, its snow-white breast still, its song forever silenced. He turned away, squeezing his eyes shut only to find the image burned into his eyelids- The image, and the terrible knowledge that one day, it would be his dark eyes covered in creamy film, left to gaze out forever at nothing, his own heart still in his chest, his limbs twisted and abused, shattered upon his cage floor. He stumbled weakly into the cool night air and vomited.

"Stop!" The servant recoiled away from the door as though she'd been physically hit. Her eyes were wide with fear as she gazed down at him, body tense and ready to flee. That familiar smug satisfaction swelled inside, temporarily filling the gaping emptiness as he sneered at the trembling woman. "Actually, I want you to leave it open. I'd like to watch the sunset." A split second pause before she bowed again, muttering soft apologies and shuffling back out of the room again. A soft click of the door shutting behind her, then perfect silence. Even the birds in the garden had been startled into stillness by his sudden outburst. His head bowed weakly, gracefully, as though suddenly it was too heavy for his slender neck to hold high anymore. The silence stretched on as the red sun dipped farther into the horizon.

"I hate you."

"… I never asked to be your sacrifice…"

Wide, violet eyes gazed deep into his own, so beautiful and empty.

"Does it hurt?" his face was so flawless, milky pale framed with soft, silver hair, his plush little lips pursed in a slight pout- The visage of pity, of concern. Children born in the year of the Rat undoubtedly were special- But those eyes, those beautiful, beautiful eyes… Akito could see himself reflected perfectly in those limpid depths- he didn't care… Akito was nothing more than a tool to the boy, a toy to bare the brunt of the curse, an object to be used and used and used until there was nothing left. He knew, because he saw it deep within all the others eyes as well. A thin hand reached out, tenderly tracing the other, younger boys jaw. Plush lips, soft, delicate skin, all the way up to his silky silver locks. The boy simply stared at him still, with those empty eyes. Silently mocking… 'Your pathetic Akito. Beyond this room, I have my whole life laid out before me- Laughter, love, joy, friendship. Your only dream is the bittersweet sorrow of release…' He stood transfixed, his fingers tangling so easily in the other boys downy locks. '… Of death.' Yet still, the boy did not flinch away, he didn't fidget or squirm like the others, simply gazed deep, deep, deep into the Head Sohmas eyes as he quietly spoke again. "Does it hurt… Akito-san?" A brief pause until another spoke, the voice soft, melodious, deadly, like honey and poison. It took him a moment to realize it was his own.

"You're… ungrateful…" the other boy blinked, the fake pity wiped off his face in shock. He didn't dare speak now, he didn't dare breath. Akito felt his fingers tighten in the other boys hair, the beautiful anger, the sweetest pain, and he was so warm, the life running hot through the others veins an almost burning joy against his cold skin. "You're… ungrateful… you're… worthless." His lip curled as his grip tightened even more in the other boys hair. "Worthless and ugly." The boy was wincing now, two pale hands reaching up to clasp the arm tangled tightly in his hair as those beautiful eyes began to well up with tears.

"Ak- Akito-san… stop… please… You- You're hurting me…" he sniveled pathetically, flinching away from the steely grip. He felt it then, the almost perverse pleasure swell within him, the aching loneliness wailing from within abating, as if fed from the others tears. And he was just… He was just so pretty when he cried. He wanted to hold this, these tears, this fragile shell of a human. He wanted to crush it in his hands, to pour his own hurt into this other, to bleed him and bleed him until it had all wasted away away away… The anger… The anger made him feel alive…

"You… You don't know the means to be hurt!" he snapped, yanking forcefully down on the other boys hair, bringing him to his knees with a sharp yelp. "I'll show you what it is to be cursed! I'll show you pain!" He jerked the other boys head around, felt the scalp begin to tear beneath his fingers, the sweet warm red pooling around his nails as the boys wail raised in pitch, the desperate cry of an animal. He felt himself tremble inside with a terrible power as his whole world spun on its axis- around and around blurring beyond recognition until all that was left was this moment- This pleasure, this pain, these tears. "I will not be used as a tool by you!" 'I will not be forgotten.' He threw the hysterical boy to the ground, not even bothering to shake away the stained clumps of silver stuck to his hand with dripping dripping red. He watched as the boy curled up within himself, weeping and wailing futily. Watched him die inside. Watched himself reflected in the other. There it was again, the sickness, the pain, welling within- An emptiness even stronger than before. This black, gaping mouth of pain, grinning sickly threatening to swallow him whole. "You'll see. I will make you crawl on hands and knees until you see…" 'you're just like me…' But now he knew, now that he'd tasted power, he'd never be able to let go.

You're just like me…

He was cold. A soft, unwanted whimper barely escaped his lips as his eyes fluttered open. He trembled lightly, trying to piece together his jumbled thoughts as he gazed out into the starry night. Somehow, he had slept. He shifted to sit up when suddenly he was overwhelmed by dizziness. He flopped weakly back down, clenching his eyes shut again and swallowing the bile that rose in his throat as he tried to will the room to stop spinning. He lay still for a while as his stomach churned and his head throbbed, the cool breeze wafting in through the open door acting as much a relief as a discomfort. Finally, his eyes drifted open again as he pulled his hand away from his mouth. His eyes widened in mild surprise- the thick, half-dried red looked almost black in the milky light of the moon. He brought his hand to his nose once more to find, as he expected, dried blood. No wonder his upper lip felt so stiff… He tried to sit up again, only to find the nausea return.

"Mitsune!" he barked, mildly shocked at just how rough and unused his own voice sounded.

"You are the sweetest child of all,"

"Yes, Akito-san?" the servant responded softly as she leaned into the room, her eyes widening slightly as they fell on his form.

"I guess it is because…"

"Call Hatori. Inform him that I require his assistance immediately."

"I hate you."

"Yes sir." She bowed while ducking out, shutting the door behind her.

He sighed wearily, he knew he was going to have to put up with Hatori preaching about sleeping with the door open, but at the moment, he found he really couldn't care less. He just… He just wanted to be… fixed. He was broken, he knew he was broken, he was broken since before he was born. He just wanted someone to come along, someone to turn him off and… fix him. But he knew better… knew better than to dream. He could never hope to be better, never hope to be whole, all he could pray for was… was… this. This travesty, this lie, this… pain. And it terrified and enraged him that, no matter what, even after this shell of a body had faded to dust, this black, grinning sickness would live on, violently raping and devouring the lives of his descendents until the ends of time, and in the end, what was he? Nothing… Nothing…

"In you, even the evil is good."

No, it was wrong, she was wrong, this whole… this whole damn family was wrong…

In him, even the good is evil. He cupped his face in his hands again, this time genuinely surprised at how moist his cheeks had become.

"… I don't want…"

A/N: Sorry if that diverged from the manga at any point- I only have the anime and up to volume six as reference material at the moment. (I think reading scanlations is cheating ;P) As for time, basically any point before he meets Tohru. Now, as promised, lyric translation:

You are the sweetest child of all,
Ill keep you as my own blood,
You are the nicest child of all,
In me, even the evil is good.

Yea, I know, I jacked some lines. Bad me. And thus concludes my first Fruits Basket fanfiction. Hopefully I did I somewhat decent job keeping people (er, Akito) IC.