Disclaimer: Keiio-sama doesn't own Hilary Duff's "Come Clean" or Natsuki Takaya's Fruits Basket. She promises to dust them off neat an tidy and stick 'em on the shelf where they belong.
A/N: I was just browsing through my story, checking for fatal mistakes...AND I REMEBER MY MOMIJI FIC! Ehmagod! ...So, decided to write something angsty. Not too much angst, just a little.
Okay...'ere we go.
Sunlight glinted off the bright blond hair of a young boy walking through the Sohma Estates. He skipped down, grinning and humming to himself. The gardeners and maids looked up from their duty and instantly recognized him—Momiji Sohma.
The aforementioned boy opened the door to his house and yelled, "I'M HOME!"
An old maid standing in the kitchen smiled. "Ah, Momiji-chan. How was your day?"
"Good!" he chirped, as usual. "Sorry, but I have to do my homework...density of Saturn." Here he made a face. "Bye!"
The old woman chuckled, going back to her work. Momiji was such a joy. She was very lucky to be working for him, instead of in the Main House with Akito.
Momiji opened the door leading to his bedroom. Everything was as it usually was — all his rabbits were in place, and there was his violin, and his calendar, for he could be very forgetful at times.
He read the things he was to do today, humming a little ditty...then stopped. Scrawled at the bottom in red was, "HELP OLD GARDENER!"
He grinned. Well, he could put off his Physics homework, and after all, it was for the good of the gardner, right? He was doing a good deed!
And with that, he was off.
Momiji grinned joyfully and handed the watering can to the man. The man gave him a smile, thanking him profusely.
"Don't mention it! I was just putting off my homework." The blond bundle of energy stuck out his tongue. The gardener chuckled and ambled off to his house.
Momiji headed back home, deciding to go a different route. This route would be slower but...it passed some good scenery!
And he wanted to see his old violin teacher.
Momiji halted in front of a weathered old house. The flowers were in full bloom, as always. And there. Was that music? He tiptoed over to the window and peeked inside.
His breath hitched in his throat.
There sat his little sister, closing her eyes as she ran her bow over the strings of her violin.
Momo...
His father and ex-violin teacher stood there as well. Momiji smiled. Momo had improved greatly since he last saw her. Suddenly, he noticed a flash of golden locks similar to his own in the corner. Momiji froze. There, enjoying her daughter's beautiful playing, was his mother.
The music ceased, and everyone opened his or her eyes. Thankfully, nobody noticed the rabbit-cursed boy behind the bushes, obscuring their view out the window. His...no, her mother walked over and gave the little girl a big hug. Momo's dad looked on proudly.
Momiji smiled sadly. It was hard, thinking of his parents as someone else's family. It was hard to watch his family all together, radiating warmth and affection...everyone but him. He flinched as something wet rolled down his cheek. Tears? No, raindrops. The golden-haired boy lifted his face up. Rain.
The happy people inside the house, just beyond his grasp, got up and left the room.
No! he wanted to scream. Don't leave me here! Take me with you, Mama! But he knew it would be wrong. Papa had tried so hard to build up the peace within his family-well, most of his family- and it would be wrong to ruin it.
Still, it hurt. A lump formed in his throat. Why? Why did Mother have to forget? About their old life? About him?
The rain cascade from the sky, soaking him to the bone. Was he crying? It was hard to tell, with the rain mingling with the tears falling from his eyes.
Well, crying in the rain always made it easier. Sure, you were crying, and somewhere you knew it, but you could squash that thought down, convincing yourself and others it was just the rain.
He let his feelings go all at once in his tears. His anger towards his father, his sadness for not being able to be included in his own family, and more anger...at himself. At how he could be so selfish and even think of ruining it for Papa, for Momo, for Mama.
But no matter how angry with himself he was, the tears just wouldn't stop flowing, just like the rain didn't stop falling, for which he was grateful. Because if the rain went way and he couldn't disguise his feelings, he wasn't sure what he'd do.
As the clouds let down the rain, and the tears kept falling, Momiji felt every pigment of his body being cleansed. This was why he loved the rain, because you could let out your feelings while hiding it at the same time.
The water seeped through his clothes, and maybe his skin, all the way to the core of his being. He wished the rain would never stop.
Let the rain fall...
...I'm coming clean...
A/N2: Funny, a lot of my fics take place in the rain... Heh, Never knew Momiji had all this angst bottled up in him, huh? I think this was kinda iffy. I had all these thoughts running around. I stole a few lines from Hilary Duff's coming Clean, though I don't really like her that much anymore.
I learned how to do dividers! No more xxxdividerxxx stuff!
GAH! Fanfiction's always changing my format!
Random rant over.
REVIEW!!!! (does the review dance)