Full description: "I never wanted this. I never wanted to be a hero."
In the traditions of the Viatori family, Nomine Viatori was chosen and trained for the duty of the Travelers since she was old enough to walk. However, she was chosen by the Fates to play a special role as the Saṃsāra, the hero of the worlds.
Now, she must travel the worlds and save them from themselves.

Nomine's journey has only just begun, but she fears this may be a most difficult feat to accomplish. Born into the world created by the imagination of Natsuki Takaya, Fruits Basket, she must assume the role and life of its heroine, Tohru Honda. But that is easier said than done, with all that Tohru accomplished within her story - from healing the hearts of those possessing the curse of the Zodiac and inspiring some to fall in love with her.
Now Nomine must heal both the characters of the story and her own heart as the Daughter of the Field.

Warnings: Nomine/Tohru may curse sometimes, but it will only be mentally, differences in the plot, and I'm using a mixture of dialogue from both the manga and the anime - whatever I think fits the scene better - and even then I will be making slight changes to suit my version of Tohru. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket, though it would be really nice if I was the one to create the manga that inspired the anime that led me to loving anime; however, I do own Nomine Viatori, the Viatori family, and the concept of the Travelers. Please don't try to steal my ideas.

The Chronicles of Saṃsāra
Daughter of the Field

Chapter 1
A House in the Woods

It is said that Yuki Sohma is like a handsome prince.

A 16-year old boy, with hair that is a strange mix of both a gentle violet and a light gray and eyes the color of amethysts, stands within the kitchen of the household he calls home, tired. Holding a small, plastic container that once held his dinner within it, he just eyes the mess before him - a large stack of garbage bags, as well as other assortments of trash in every sense of the word.

The trash is piled high, nearly brushing the ceiling in some places, and it stinks the room up to high heaven; waves of the disgusting stench rises off of the dark plastic bags, despite them all being tied shut tightly. The mess obscures the rest of the kitchen, creating the room into some kind of dump site for anything unwanted or unneeded, and even the walls have not escaped the siege of trash and garbage upon the room. Stains of unmentionable origin cover the walls, making it impossible to discern what color they once were - not even the residents of this household are sure of the original color.

'What a mess,' Yuki Sohma thinks to himself, sighing as the now-empty container dangles listlessly from his fingertips. 'If we don't clean up, then it's all over.'

However, he cannot find the inspiration to begin the siege against the household's Garbage Overlords, and he tosses the container on to the top of the nearest pile of bulging trash bags.

'Oh, well,' he thinks. 'It's not like we're going to die.'

And the piles just continue to grow.

However . . . Yuki is a really lazy person, in addition to being rather clumsy . . .

In other words, a normal person.

"Ah . . ." I sigh happily, feeling utterly blissful as the sun shining in the lovely blue sky begins to warm my skin.

Even as another person, in another life, I cannot help but love that feeling that you get when you lay in the sun for a while - that warm, comfortable tingling feeling as your skin absorbs the UV rays. It is a feeling that I cannot grow out of loving, having grown up, in my past life, on the West Coast and raised to adore all things sunny and warm - that's not to say that I can't handle the cold, though; I love the cold almost as much as I do the sun. I actually don't get cold very often, and even when I do, I don't often get all that cold at all.

But the reminder of the time keeps me from relaxing fully, and at last, I climb to my feet and brush off my knee-length skirt. I stand tall, stretching my arms above my head and yawning. "Time to get going, I guess," I remark, turning around to face the sunny yellow tent I currently call home.

I step forward and crawl inside, ignoring the gentle swishing my careful steps on the swaying, green grass cause. I grab my school bag, toss it over my shoulder, and smile warmly at the picture of my mother in this life, Kyoko Honda. "See you later, Mom," I cannot help but say and climb out of the tent easily. I stride away, waving good-bye over my head with a slight flick of my wrist. "I'm going to school now!"

My name . . . is Nomine Viatori - or at least it used to be. Now I am Tohru, Tohru Honda, the heroine of this world.

I am the Saṃsāra, the destined hero of all of the worlds, and I must live a thousand lives, as a thousand heroes. In all of these worlds, I must play my part as the hero to the very end, until my very last breath; once my part is completed, I am shunted off to the next world without warning.

But it isn't all bad.

Even though I hate my position, I can, at least, admit that; the situation isn't entirely bad, and I know of many who would kill to be in my shoes.

I will make many friends in my many lives, have many adventures, and fall in love. But I will have to move on one day, to another world, another life, another hero. I will never be able to be entirely faithful to one person, no matter how much I may come to love them, because most of my roles will demand a heart-felt romance. And those that don't . . . will end in tragedy.

But despite that, I know I will always have a constant - Krishna, the savior of my sanity.

The Fates saw that I would struggle in my duties, as is expected of a human being suddenly shoved into shoes much too big for their feet, and so they gave me a constant companion, a guide of sorts who knows what I have to do and how I have to do it. They gave him a purpose, a role, a personality, but they did not give him a name. (That really is a common factor with the Fates; they don't consider feelings, they just do whatever the Hell they want to and everybody else be damned if they get in the way.)

I gave him his name, and for that, he has pledged his eternal friendship to me. And despite his snarky, sarcastic ways and inconvenient timing, I don't know what I would do without him.

You're making good time, Krishna says suddenly, from his position in the corner of my mind.

"Yes," I agree in a soft whisper. "I might as well wander a bit."

His chuckles, gentle despite the mocking edge to them, fill my mind with their musical tones. Just don't get lost, he teases me, and I roll my eyes.

My mother in this life, Kyoko Honda, died this May - she passed away in a freak car accident. To avoid being a burden for anyone, I decided to live in a tent out in the woods - it's not exactly comfortable, but I make do. It doesn't matter how bad it gets, because I can't ever give up.

A beautiful house catches my attention - crafted beautifully with the traditional Japanese architecture. I can't even imagine living in a place like this, but because I know of the story that I am in, I know that I eventually will know the feeling of living with such luxury at my disposal. Still . . . it is a bit odd to imagine, and odder still to know my own future.

But it is helpful to have forewarning about events, Krishna reminds me, and I cannot help but agree with him.

I abandon the well-trodden dirt path I'm walking along and fight my way down the hill, through the trees. I'm awarded with a few minor scrapes that Krishna heals up quickly and some twigs in my hair that I pick out, but I remain victorious over nature.

Krishna snorts but does not comment on my thought process as a bell hanging on the side of the house chimes merrily.

I ignore him and walk forward, peering into the open doorway; the inside is just as luxurious as the outside, with warm oak-wood paneling covering the walls and a well-worn but dutifully-taken-care-of flooring. I spot a table set with a small dish of food, as well as pillows for the owner to recline upon.

I am just about to depart when I notice small stones, likely taken from the nearby river judging by the smooth, circular shape of them, painted to resemble the 12 Animals of the Zodiac set out - whether to dry or just to absorb heat from the sun, I'm not sure. There is also a gift box set next to the 12 stones, wrapped up nice and pretty.

I smile. 'How cute.'

Krishna, again, snorts.

"How rare," a voice suddenly states, low and masculine, and I flinch at the sound of it, looking up quickly.

My eyes meet the eyes of a male, much older than I in this life, with dark, messy hair falling around his narrow face. His eyes are just as dark as his hair, and rather shrewd with intelligence. His skin is pale, much paler than mine - I the sunbather and outdoor-enthusiast that I am; there is a gentle tone to his skin, a cream-like tint that makes his features, feminine as they were, almost . . . pretty. I can see how he would be considered attractive by most girls, though the boyish look on his mature face was a contradiction I do not, personally, find appealing.

The stranger wears a long robe, hiding his clothing; the cloth ends just above his feet, and its collar is cut in a low V-neck that exposes vast swathes of creamy milk-colored skin. His collarbones jut out from the robe's confines, the smooth-looking skin pulled taut over them, and the contours exposed in the shadows surprise me with their depth.

'He could definitely stand to eat a bit more,' I observe, and I can sense Krishna's agreement from his corner of my mind.

The man holds a newspaper, though his dark, intelligent eyes are fixed firmly upon me - the stranger to him, the trespasser and violator of the privacy of his home.

"There's a girl here?" he continues, though I see he notes the quick observations I have made of him. "Wow! And she's a high school student!"

I flush, then, with the realization that has dawned upon me, and I know the embarrassment and shame turns my golden skin a crimson that would put even the healthiest of tomatoes to shame. "H-Hello," I stammer, bowing deeply. "U-um, I'm so sorry a-about looking without your p-permission!"

'Dammit,' I curse myself internally. 'I should've left when I had the chance! Then maybe I could've avoided the whole situation!'

Krishna snickers. You know that's not possible, he reminds me, his mental voice a mocking sing-song. This meeting of yourself and Shigure is crucial to the plot, and the Fates would not allow you to miss it - you know how they are.

I poke at the environment with my chi, a special ability of the Viatori family, half-expecting a sudden thunder clap of doom to occur and the Fates coming down from the bright, baby-blue skies to deliver their wrath upon me and Krishna both. But my fears prove to be unwarranted, and I have to tune out Krishna's laughter in order to hear the reply of the dark-haired stranger, Shigure I know, before me.

"It's okay," he says gently. "Look if you want. I only put them out for some sunshine. But . . . most young people like you would find them boring." A wry smile adorns his face, and the streaming sunshine catches the inviting if shrewd gleam in his dark eyes.

My embarrassed blush starts to fade away, and I shake my head calmly. "N-no," I stammer still, though. "T-the 12 Animals of the Zodiac look absolutely adorable."

His wry smile only grows. "Yes, well, I'm quite . . . fond of them myself," he remarks, kneeling down next to the stones and looking down at them.

I look at them as well, the ever-tightening grip on my school bag the only indicator of my increasing tenseness and my prior knowledge about the situation. "I-I should have k-know," I remark, mentally cursing myself for that stupid stammer. "Y-you left out th-the Cat."

The man chuckles lightly, but I can see the darker glint in the recesses of his eyes. "The Cat? Ah . . . then you must have heard of the old folk tale, the story of the Cat in the 12 Animals of the Zodiac," he replies, thankfully ignoring the uncontrollable stammer I possess - something I have not managed to train out of my soul from my previous life.*

I nod. "M-my mom, s-she used to tell me th-that story," I murmur, smiling softly at the memory.

Only it wasn't only Kyoko who told me the story; Grandfather, the man who raised me in my previous life, he told me that story often, too. It was a particular favorite of his, and the memory . . . is something almost bittersweet in its nostalgia.

"W-when I was y-younger, I d-decided I would b-be a-a Cat, i-instead of a Dog; I l-love Cats that m-much," I confess.

Or at least the person you're supposed to be does, Krishna finishes, a taint of bitterness underlying his mental voice.

"Oh . . .?" the man before me remarks, resting his cheek upon his fist. "I wonder . . . how he'll react to the news."

I glance up at him through my side-swept bangs, so much like Kyoko's. "Huh?" I mumble, but he deftly ignores my confusion and plows on through.

"So you're a Dog, huh?" he asks, starting to lean forward. "No wonder I like you . . . you know, aside from your pretty fa-"

I back away shyly, still only looking up through the curtain my bangs provide.

Suddenly my savior arrives, and he slams his own school bag down on to Shigure's head, effectively knocking him back and keeping him from advancing further. "You look more like a pedophile than anything else right now."

I glance from Shigure to the one who knocked him upside the head with a school bag, only to find that Yuki Sohma, the supposed Prince of my high school standing there, glaring coldly at his cousin.

"Shame on you, moving in closer and closer like that," Yuki scolds him, his expression almost frighteningly cold.

"Ow!" Shigure whines. "That hurt! What do you have in that bag, a dictionary?"

"No," Yuki replies coolly. "I have two of them." His attention, then, shifts to me, and his expression becomes one of gentleness, a warm smile adorning his rather attractive and blush-worthy features.

"Oh, Miss Honda," he says, his amethyst eyes twinkling merrily, "are you all right? I do hope my cousin didn't do anything too weird."

My cheeks flush furiously, and I squeak out a reply in the negative, quickly looking down. I mumble a greeting, and he repeats it cheerily, beaming at me all the while.

I cannot stop the heat flooding my cheeks, and I cannot look anywhere near his features without immediately clamming up and getting shier than I usually am (and I am quite shy in most, if not all, situations).

"Don't make it sound like I'm such a pervert, Yuki," Shigure whines, but the both of us ignore him quite easily.

"Honda-san! What happened this morning!?"

I am immediately assaulted by the members of the Prince Yuki fan-club when he and I go our separate ways.

"Hm!?"

I mentally curse the eternal shyness I suffer from, unable to bring myself to offer up an excuse to save me from the rabid fan-girls.

"Honda! What's going on here!? Huh!? How come you came to school with Prince Yuki!? Please explain!"

The three girls behind the leader, whose name I am blanking on, chime in, offering their quiet agreement.

"I-it was j-just a c-coincidence," I offer up, my tongue tripping over my words. "T-that's a-all."

"Coincidence, huh!?" the girl before me shrieks. "If that's the case, then why were you acting all chummy with him!?"**

More agreement, and the class rep gets angry at their shouting and shouts right back: "Be quiet in the hallway!"

Yuki Sohma . . . only a 1st year, the same as me, and yet the most popular boy in school. And the Prince Charming of every girl's dreams.

"Don't think just because Prince Yuki was nice to you, you can think highly of yourself!" she continues angrily. "What right do you have!?"

"I-I'm not," I mumble, trying my damned hardest not to cry - an instant reflex whenever I am yelled at, stemming from some emotional neglect and abuse in my previous life.

"Hey!" a familiar voice snaps, and I am immediately relieved. "Didn't Tohru just say it was a coincidence? Keep making a menace of yourselves, and I won't be able to help myself - your pretty, little noses'll get bruised!"

Despite the killer intent radiating from the two ominous figures, I greet them with a soft, shy smile. "A-ah, hello, Uo-chan, H-Hana-chan."

"Now hold it, Yankee! You're not gonna scare us with that street thug talk!" my tormentor cries, pointing wildly at my friends as though that will hold them off, tough despite the fact that I can sense the fear just oozing from her pores, and the girls behind her have just about pissed themselves from fear of Uo.

"One more word and you'll all get a *bleeep* with electric shocks," Hana says, that terrifying, dead expression on her face that she always wears when she means business.

Needless to say, the fan-girls disappear, sprinting away at high speeds. I swear I clocked them at about a hundred miles an hour.

Instantly, Uo pulls me in for a tight hug. "Oh, poor Tohru. Were those mean girls picking on you?" She pulls away, a teasing smile on her face that disappears when she speaks to Hana. "Hana, don't actually shock anyone."

"Oh, so you're Yuki's classmate, then? I'm Sohma Shigure, Yuki's cousin."

"A-ah . . . I-I'm Honda Tohru, please take care of me . . ."

"Oh, Miss Honda, why are you here?"

"U-uh, well . . . I-I live cl-close by, y-you see . . ."

"Huh?"

"Nearby!?"

"Well, never mind; we're going to be late. Since you're here, though, would you like to walk with me?"

I sigh. "Sohma-san is so charming; I can't help but blush around him, y'know? I didn't even know what to talk to him about," I confess, looking down at my hands folded into my lap.

"I . . . sense strange electrical signals from that boy," Hana comments, sliding her gleaming knife free of its sheath and cutting the fish open.

"Here comes Hana's electrical report," Uo says, smiling slightly as she regards the dark-haired psychic.

"Are they really that odd?" I ask, though I already know the answer (damn the part I must play).

"I'm . . . not quite sure myself," she says, sliding the knife back into its sheath with barely a sound. "He's . . . different."

"Well, I admit he does seem to have an air of mystery about him," Uo remarks, holding her bangs back from her face with her hand as she keeps her elbow propped up against the wall. "And there are some weird stories floating around, too - I hear one of those fan club girls tried to ask him out once, but he just pushed her away. And I mean that literally. Right in the hall. Then he left her on the floor and ran off."

"Like I said," Hana says, preparing a bowl of sticky rice with a practiced ease, "I sense strange electrical signals."

"Oh, well." Uo shrugs, brushing her hair back - though it quickly returns to its place the moment she's moved. "His actions make those girls even more attracted to him."

I listen to their conversation silently, looking up when I notice the teacher approaching us, a scowl set in place on the weathered bags of her face. Before I can warn my two friends, she sets upon us with a vengeance.

"You three! Don't just use your mouth and not your hands!" she snaps at us, but she is quickly stopped in her tracks upon seeing the food has already been prepared. She flounders for a moment before criticizing us all once more. "Stupid! It's already cooked! The octopus! And how can you feel proud!? Honda-san made everything!"

I flush, because she's not exactly wrong, but both Uo and Hana remain cool as always.

"Good perception!" Uo says cheerily, smiling mischievously at our teacher.

"The rice is also done," Hana informs the old, tired woman, still holding the spatula she used to form the bowl of sticky rice.

With an angered shout, the woman leaves our table, several tick marks throbbing on the back of her head.

"Oh! Today after school, I'm going shopping with Hana-chan!" Uo says, resuming the conversation as if nothing has happened. "Do you have to work today? You could come with us."

I give her a sad smile. "I wish I could, but I do have to work today," I say, shaking my head.

Uo's eyes narrow. "You've been putting in a lot of hours lately," she observes. "A lot more than usual."

I shrug nonchalantly. "I guess. I hadn't really noticed."

"You're having trouble saving up tuition, aren't you!?" Uo exclaims, and I jump on the excuse for my constant working.

"Well, sort of," I say sheepishly, and Krishna whistles.

Nice, he comments. If I didn't know the truth, I'd believe you.

I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not, so I ignore him.

"That's odd," Hana says, looking over at the two of us. "I didn't think tuition here was that expensive, and I don't remember you having to work this hard before - unless something else has . . . changed."

I wonder, worried, if she suspects something, but I keep my face a blank slate - unreadable and indecipherable. "No," I say, shaking my head. "Everything is pretty much the same."

Suddenly, Uo leans into my face. "So what is it? You're in some kind of trouble? You owe somebody? Your grandfather is giving you enough to eat, right? He isn't taking your money?" she demands, an utterly terrifying look on her face.

"Mm-mm," I say, shaking my head yet again. "Everything is all right at home."

Uo pulls back, chuckling. "I know, I worry too much," she says, smiling, but then she leans back into my face, that same expression of terrifying anger on her features. "But seriously, if you need me to rough somebody up for you, you just say the word, got it?"

I smile at her. "Okay, Uo-chan - I promise," I say, and this promise is one that I intend to keep.

Uo is absolutely going to murder me if she finds out the truth; she might ride her bike to my aunt's house and yell at them - or worse. She's scary when she gets angry.

But, really, how could I tell them that I live in a tent? They consider me as their best friend, and I don't want to worry them; even though I don't belong in this world, in this life, I cannot help but come to care for them as my own family, my dear friends. It is for that reason that I haven't yet told them.

I can still remember how tough it was on Kyoko, my mother, after my father died. She had to work so hard just to make ends meet. But she never seemed to mind. She always had a smile. It's hard to believe that someone so smart and so strong could be taken away by an accident.

After it happened, there were a lot of people I could've stayed with, I guess. I chose to live with my paternal grandfather, my father's father. He was always so nice to me - even if he always calls me by Kyoko's name. But he's retired now, living on his savings. I didn't want to be selfish, eat up his savings with my schooling, so I promised him I would work to pay for my tuition myself.

After four month, the house needed some renovations, and grandfather went to stay with his daughter, my aunt, and her family until the work was done.

He asked me if I had a friend here I could stay with. I told him yes, but Uo lives in a one-room apartment and Hana's got such a large family; I couldn't ask them. They've got enough to worry about. I'd just be in the way.

That's when it hit me! If I could somehow live on my own for a while, then everyone would be happy.

And so . . . I moved into that tent, in the forest - far enough away I couldn't bother anyone.

Walking into the locker room, where our belongings are stored for when we leave school to go home, I notice Yuki has just finished gathering up his own belongings out of his locker. I stop in my tracks, idly toying with the idea of fleeing back inside and waiting until he has left, but before I can make a move, he notices my lingering presence.

"Huh?" He turns, shutting the door to his locker, and he smiles brightly upon seeing me standing there.

I smile back shyly, blushing. "U-uh," I stammer. "H-hi, S-Sohma-san."

"It seems we're beginning to make a habit of bumping into each other," he remarks, laughter tinging his statement. "And, please, call me Yuki - my cousin, Shigure, is 'Sohma-san'."

I nod in agreement, in acceptance, and he gestures for me to begin walking with him. With my heart's pulsating, quickening beat echoing in my ears, I do so.

We exit the school and begin walking down the dirt path leading towards the forest - where, apparently, both he and I live. As we walk, I attempt to start a conversation with Yuki, something to lighten the suffocating silence and tension between the two of us and hopefully allow me to stop the stammering - something that only occurs when I am uncomfortable with someone I am talking to. But he starts first.

"I apologize for anything Shigure might have done this morning," he says, his tone gentle and truly apologetic.

"I-it's a-all right; i-it was nice m-meeting Sh-Shigure-san t-today," I say, my tongue tripping over the words, and his brows draw together - as if only now noticing the accursed stammer. "H-he w-was nice e-enough, and the figurines w-were cute."

He smiles again, but this time the expression seems forced, full of tension and something almost . . . harsh, hateful. "Ah, yes," he says lightly, but I can hear the undertones in his voice that match the undertones of his smile. "But . . . I thought I overheard you saying something about how you wished there was a Year of the Cat."

It is my turn to have my brows draw together, and I frown deeply. "I-it was s-something I w-wished for when I w-was young; I-I've long s-since changed m-my mind," I say, but that does not lighten the atmosphere about the both of us, the one that has suddenly become suffocating and tense.

"Cats . . ." Yuki says slowly. "Useless, foolish creatures."

I blink, my eyes widening.

"Tell me, Miss Honda, how familiar would you say you are with the history of the Chinese Zodiac?" he asks me, and I yearn to confess everything in that moment, tell him that I know more than he thinks that I do, that I am not supposed to be in this world, that I am uncomfortably familiar with the concept of a destiny forced upon oneself.

But my role does not allow, nor condone such a confession, so I simply shrug.

"N-not much," I say, as if it is an admission, and he glances at me from the corner of his eye, his amethyst orbs burning into my skull - as if he noticed my struggle.

"Did you know that it was originally nothing more than a simple calendar?" he asks me. "A mathematical system to mark the passage of time. Only later did people begin to use it for things like astrology and fortune-telling."

Again, I blink. "W-what about t-the Animals?" I ask, as my role dictates.

He turns to face the road ahead, as if his suspicions have dissipated into nothingness. "I'm not really sure how or when the animals first came to represent the years, but I don't believe they were there from the beginning. What I do know is at no time in the history of the zodiac, has the cat ever been included. So you see, the cat has been shunned by society for thousands of years. But as the story is told, it still yearns to be accepted. Like I say, a truly foolish animal."

I brush some hair away from my face, making a mental note to braid my hair tomorrow, and I look down at my phone, noting the time. "I-I have to g-go," I stammer, and he turns, catching a leaf that was fluttering down by my face.

His hand is inches away from my cheek, and he draws ever closer, close enough that I can smell the heady scent of him - masculine and tempting.

"I noticed that this morning, that you're starting to look a bit pale; you should really take better care of yourself," he remarks, leaning down, but just when I think that he may brush his lips against mine, he pulls away, releasing the leaf. He walks away. "Perhaps, we'll bump into each other again. Tomorrow."

His words carry back to me, and I flush.

Mysterious indeed.

I finish work soon enough, and I stumble back home to the tent, not realizing that Shigure and Yuki are doing the same.

"Phew," Shigure says, patting his engorged stomach. "If we keep eating out like this all the time, I'm gonna have to buy a bigger yukata."

Yuki turns slightly to glare heatedly at his cousin. "Well, then, why don't you do the cooking?" he demands, scowling.

"Why? Every time I make dinner, you complain," Shigure returns, shrugging.

"Pickled radish in curry is not dinner; it's disgusting," Yuki snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think one complaint is more or less justified."

Shigure sighs. "You know, Yuki, you've got a good head on your shoulders, but I just don't think you're cut out for housework," he comments, before his expression turns pleading. "The two of us living together, we need to get a female housekeeper!"

Yuki smirks slightly, closing his eyes. "Easy for you to say," he murmurs.

Shigure pouts. "Oh, please. We can pay her and everything . . ." His voice trails off as he peers through the branches of the surrounding trees. "Oh! Isn't that Tohru, walking over there?"

Yuki glances over, trying his best to hide the worry and surprise that he feels upon hearing his cousin mention the blue-eyed brunette. "Scary . . ." he says instead. "You can remember her name that easily."

Shigure grins, cupping his chin with his index finger and leaning his thumb against his cheek. "Oh, that's nothing special!" he says, and Yuki has to bite back an exclamation about how disgusting his cousin's lecherous ways are.

To distract himself, he attempts to catch a glance of the brunette teen. She is wearing a pale, cream yellow shirt that billows about her form and a pair of gray leggings that enunciate her feminine form; he forces away the thoughts of perversion about her, and instead he focuses on what he can see of her features.

She is pale, with her cheeks flushed, and her long, chocolate tresses stand out vividly against the sickly pale sheen of her skin. Her eyes, that vivid, deep blue like nothing he has seen before, are tired, her eyelids drawn down over them as if it is too much effort to keep her eyes open. He worries about her, but even as sick and tired as she looks, he still thinks she is utterly beautiful.

"She said that she lived nearby," he says slowly, "but I didn't think she lived so close. I heard her mother died, so she may have moved out here. Except . . ."

He and Shigure look at each other.

"We haven't rented the land out here out to anyone."

*The stammer: I gave Nomine/Tohru a stammer because I wanted to make her a bit more human, a bit more like the original character in her lovable . . . realness, but I didn't think that Nomine would be ditzy, like Tohru was originally in the show - even if she's playing the part. So instead, I gave her a stammer that only comes out when she talks to people she's not familiar, or comfortable, with.
**If that's the case, then why were you acting all chummy with him!?: That, obviously, wasn't the actual line - in the anime or the manga, but the scene was mostly based off of the manga and the translations are really awkward. I wasn't entirely sure how to write the actual line in, with the awkward way it was written, so instead I put that line - it's similar enough to what they're trying to say, right?

And done!

There we go, the first chapter of The Chronicles of Saṃsāra: Daughter of the Field is complete! I hope you guys enjoyed it! And I'm sorry if the changes to the dialogue and such bother you; I just wanted it to fit the message of the story.

On that note, what do you guys think of Nomine/Tohru? I know she's a bit darker and less cheerful, like Tohru was, but if anyone's read the manga, I find that her character fits the manga much better. And besides, she thinks darkly, but she pretends to be cheerful.

Feel free to guess what the message of the story is, of the series, as we go; I look forward to reading your guesses and your comments.

And, also, please vote in the comments who you want Nomine/Tohru to end up with - whether you want the story to be more like canon, with TohruXKyo, or if you think that Nomine and Yuki have much better chemistry than her and Kyo. I know she hasn't met Kyo yet, but please, let me know your opinions.

Question: How do you think the Curse was broken in the manga?

Ja ne!