Here's a little something that I wrote as a somewhat lengthy explanation of something that appeared in Sacrifice (don't worry, if you haven't read it though, this can be read totally independant of Sacrifice; events of that story are not even mentioned).So here it is, I guess? I was fascinated by the idea and I wanted to look into it a little more. I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or its characters. All rights go to Natsuki Takaya.
Yuki's arms were folded across his desk and his head laid in them. He'd been holding back tears and emotions all day. His friends. His first friends… had walked right past him that morning. They hadn't known him; hadn't even noticed him. He hadn't gone out during recess that day and had instead stayed in, his face buried in his arms much like now, but with silent tears trailing down his face, hidden from the teacher sitting at the desk.
It was the end of the school day now, and the teacher was walking among the desks handing back assignments from the previous day. When his own work was placed on his desk, Yuki sat up and slid it towards him. His eyes scanned the page and stopped at the top right corner, shocked. Good job. Keep up the good work. It was written in a green pen and had a small smiling face drawn beside it. His gaze shot up to the teacher who was making a few brief announcements at the front of the classroom, but he didn't seem to think anything was out of the ordinary.
Like every assignment, Yuki left the competed work in his desk before leaving school, but that day, he held the desk lid open, staring at the paper there and the green writing on top. You're a failure Yuki. Unloved and unwanted. Who could want a child like you? What good can you possibly do? But those words said something different. They were kind. They weren't… hateful.
Good job. Keep up the good work.
Before he thought twice about it, Yuki reached in and snatched the paper back, tearing off the corner with the precious words. Safe inside his fist, he took his school bag and went outside, eyes quietly following as some of the children held their parents hands while walking towards the school gate. His own hand only clutched desperately at the words of a hastily written compliment. It was all he had. The black car was waiting just outside the school gate and Yuki got in quietly, careful not to let any piece of the torn corner show. His mother, who was already inside didn't say a word to him and sat with her legs primly crossed, eyes staring out the window with a slight look of disdain on her face. Yuki didn't say a word either, but kept to his own side of the car and stared down at his clenched hand, knowing that inside was a small compliment. He'd done something right. His teacher had liked it. He'd done something right.
Every day after that, Yuki waited eagerly for the time when the assignments would be handed back. He worked extra hard on them and did his very best every time, hoping that maybe someday soon there'd be something written at the top again. Anything. Anything would have been enough. Finally, after two weeks of anticipation and hope another small note had been written on his homework paper: I like the effort I'm seeing. You're doing well. He hadn't hesitated and the first discreet chance he got, he tore off that corner too, staring at it in wonder.
When he returned to the main house that afternoon, he'd put it in his bedroom and hid it with the first compliment inside one of his books.
Slowly, over the months, the collection grew and the work and effort he put into his assignments became routine. He worked hard and hoped that maybe it would pay off. And whenever it did, for a brief moment, he was happy. In that one moment he felt a little more than… nothing. For a moment he wasn't what Akito told him he was and he was someone he had worked to be. But only for a moment.
Later that day, Yuki found himself at the mercy of Akito's anger. Words of hate and cruel reality were thrown at him from seemingly every direction and all he could do was cover his ears and hope for an end to come soon. Painful words reverberated in his mind that night, repeating themselves and slowly destroying his already damaged soul. Do you know why you're here? Your mother doesn't want you! She can't stand you! She abandoned you, she never visits, never asks how you are. You know why that is, don't you? She hates you! You really must be disgusting creature if your own mother hates you. Yuki laid on his side, curling his knees up to his chest and shaking his head, trying to deny such things. It wasn't true, it wasn't. It couldn't be. But… she never showed any sign that it was lie. She was everything Akito said she was. And so was he.
After a careful check outside the door, Yuki brought out the torn corners of his assignments, spreading them out across his bed. These were his only treasures; the only thing he could turn to and find some form of encouragement and positive words.
Keep it up! You're doing great.
Lovely work, I'm impressed.
You're such a good student.
Good job, I can tell you worked hard.
Yuki stared at the compliments and encouragement, tears stinging at his eyes. He knew he'd never hear these things from anyone he cared about. He knew that. No one could care enough about a person like him to say such positive things. But at least… at least he had these small words of encouragement. These words were written for him.
Among the hateful things Akito had said that were repeating and digging into his mind, there was also that small voice reminding that maybe, just maybe, not everyone thought the same.
You always do your best, I'm proud.
I wrote this so long ago that I had to go over it again for editing purposes. Please let me know if I missed anything! I'd also love to hear any other comments that you might have, so please review!