Aristocratic Extortion
a c a n t h a - c h a n
Authoress' Note & Disclaimer: This is an adaptation of the other Fruits Basket one-shot I wrote, called To Tantalize Sin. Unlike To Tantalize Sin, this one has a fairly happy ending, but bear in mind that this might not be written as well as one of my characteristic tragic endings - happiness isn't a big factor in my writing unless it has the phrase 'lack of' in front of said word. Oh, and by the way, no, I don't happen to own Fruits Basket, which is a darn shame.
Furthermore, in this one-shot, I made my lovely Sayuri a little naughtier than before to make up for the lack of an angsty ending (or, at least, my version of a happy ending) - good lord, I really can't stop angsting about not writing angst, can I?
I also went with the anime's assumption that Akito is male (although she isn't, as revealed in the manga), for the ease of things.
And in this one-shot, there is no mention of Yuki - his hairstyle is pretty lovable, though - or any other Zodiac members. Apologies to those who don't like pairing Kyo with anyone but (insert-character-here), but that's just the way it is. You don't always have to have your way.
---
"I, like all other condemned, wish for the freedom granted to the ones who don't really deserve it. My temptation of fate's hand doesn't help, but since when have I ever believed in destiny?"
Felines are feral aimals animals by nature; those who are native to the wild deal poorly with the frigid nature of a cage, even a cage that does not appear to be as rigid as it truly is. Kyo knows this is as true as truth can get in a place whose foundations were built upon secrets; still, it doesn't even faze him. He is strong - perhaps not mentally, but physically. He has learned a lot in this past lifetime: the majority of which include self-taught moderations of respect, apathy, and resolute ordeals. He knows a lot he didn't know two years ago, when he needed it the most and it was wavering out of existence right out of his feeble grasp. He's stopped regretting it, mainly because it won't help him turn over the hourglass.
It's all the truth he can muster - he lies to everyone nowadays, even himself...Especially himself. This hole is his personal hell, so he tells himself it's his salvation, a border between the corruption and dangers of the outside world. His tattered clothing - hygiene is unimportant, he berates himself - become a prince's robes before his very eyes (bloodshot and sleepless, markers of the insomnia from which he now suffers). He isn't alone: in fact, there's someone entering the door right then. Kyo is not a mistake, but a personification of utter perfection that the heavens just happened to bestow upon a family so undeserving as the Sohmas.
The Cat is now only a shadow of his former self; and what a diminished shadow it has become.
---
"I attempted to earn my own freedom, just like you, but I ended up as a willow reed bending in the wind's insistent grip. It seems that my efforts weren't good enough, so I shall adopt what self-reliance I have and attempt to break away once again."
A lady seems to always be considered elegant and eloquent; beautiful and brazen, perhaps; or erudite and enticing. Sayuri is none of these things, because she is not a lady. In fact, if she were to say otherwise, she would call herself the slave of a princess story, a fairy tale in which there was no happy ending because the villain was too powerful and the heroine simply hadn't had enough wits to best said villain. Akito-sama, he had always delighted in telling her stories of unrequited love and insanity, to better build the foundations for his little painted doll. As a result not only did Sayuri fail to indulge in the simplest pleasures of normalcy during her childhood-cut-short but she also failed to build up enough of a personality to become her own person.
She's a true painted doll now, eighteen and growing, picturesque and the possessor of beauty beyond compare. She's a vixen in a virgin's body for sure; the little girl only has to grow up before she can become the independent beauty she secretly dreams of being. A rebel, a rebel, a rebel. Her heart; it beats to that rhythm, beats out the words of her song in a monotone. Monochrome colors, pale and ordinary. A monologue - she's now the only one on stage, all eyes on her as she recites something from a book the same way she obeys everything Akito tells her to.
It's sickening at times, this pretense upon which she's finally realized she's based her whole life on; but what a woman without will can do is astounding to the master of such a female. Erotic, maybe, what he could do to the little fallen angel if she were more than his little toy.
She wants a key, you see, for her cell door, but because it can only be found if she wants it to be found, it's as likely as ever to stay hidden forever, damned to an existence as a caged bird.
---
"I made no mistake by disturbing the peace of your autumn requiem, merely granted you an unpardoned grace. If I had had an idea how you would have reacted I would have run away right then and there, just to avoid this catastrophe."
It's obvious that it should be she - the one whose will is now iron - is the first to come across his twisted refuge. She leans against the bamboo bars, practically telling Kyo to reach out a hand and stroke that long, dark hair, black as obsidian against a face as pale as birch tree bark from so many years kept inside the innermost chambers of secrecy. Her hands are slender and graced with nails like peach-hued moons, her clothing simple but elegant, her bare feet nestled in a little groove on the grass growing sparsely all around.
"Go away."
He startles her, brazen as she has evolved to become, because like everyone else she'd never bothered to acknowledge his existence. She's actually a little astonished at how harsh his words are, because he's not really supposed to exist. He's only supposed a legend that encourages little Sohma children to stay sinless and pure for fear their children will end up as the accursed. Tribulation is not the cause, as she knows all too well, but the result of what happens when one does the wrong thing and is at the wrong stage of life. The emotion flickers across her face and Kyo expects her to run, run, run, and hide away in her little mouse burrow. (She looks far too much like a rat for her not to be one, but appearances have never dictated personalities.)
But, having grown up far more in two years than she had in the first eighteen of her life, she only stands her ground and replies cynically, "I'm not the one in the cage, cat."
The words sting, but only like a minor wound - he's suffered too much anguish stemming from insults such as the ones spilling from her mouth to be affected by them anymore. The scab had closed over and the pain subsided; and now it was just a dead throb in his head, beating out a sadistic rhythm that reminded him of bloodshed and living death.
She scowls, seeing no change in his expression at her verbal stabs. The expression on her face, on the other hand, makes Kyo hurt.
Not on the outside, but on the inside; and it's surprising enough to get him to raise his face to the window and reach out his hand. If she recoils, he tells himself, she's not the one.
And amazingly, she doesn't. Tales have never been enough to faze her, the reason why it was so inevitable that she end up the way she had - a rebel under a tyrant's heady reign, unable to escape on mismatched wings of ivory and moonbeams.
And for him, escape is too late because he's too busy gnawing at his newest wound to notice her departure.
It's only until after she's out of sight that he looks down to his closed fist. He opens them, and finds something that seems to clamor for retribution, consequences. Ludicrous, really, but it's not just the tiny silver bell that amazes him.
It's like she actually cares, but he'd be damned if he still believed anyone cared for him anymore.
---
"I carved your name into this bullet so everyone would see you were the last thing going on in my mind - you see that, don't you? Because if you didn't, then my heart would break and then you'd really be sorry."
Taking things and twisting them into something completely different in such a sadistic manner seems to be his specialty, as Sayuri knows all too well three gifts and four astonished looks later. Does he even know what he does to her? Oh, it's forbidden - everyone tells her that, and because Akito isn't there to restrain his little puppet, she doesn't listen. Who would, really, once they realize how enduring young love can be?
And truly, Sayuri's facade couldn't have remained such a guiltless feint forever. All it had taken for the first cracks to appear was the phenomenon that could only be described as baroque orange.
Sayuri, of course, isn't the only one who is changing. Kyo's panacea, that's what she is. She is the cure to all woes he can dream up; merely the flash of one of her smiles and he melts.
Fuck.
He can't stand it, the tart taste of her tongue (forbidden kisses taste the best, but never had he been so tempted to test the theory without deviation), the lazy way her hips sway when she approaches. A damn vixen, and she knows it, too, made into all more of a vixen because it's him that she's tempting - her mask drops, the rouge lips curve into a quiet pleasing smile that tempts him even more so. ("I'll do anything for you, and you know it, too.") She's changed from the brazen little doll he knew - far too much for him ever to call her a doll now, like he's poisoned her innocence and vehemently changed the girl beneath the acidic expression, the one who Akito can no longer control because he's too busy staying whole - but that doesn't change the fact that he's behind bars and she's not.
They're both imprisoned, but what do you suppose made them just think that they've finally found the keys?
---
"I flew away on wings you fashioned of splintered glass and heartbreak, but I forgot what I was leaving behind. I was hoping you could remind me, but it seems you don't even want to remember that hellhole."
A touch at his arm reminds him of exactly what he's doing, what the beads on his wrist mean, where he's running away from, who he's running away with. A witch in angel's clothing, to be sure, with a cold piece of steel she's ready to shove between his ribs if he tries to go back. They're not the perfect couple, but some time back they'd already crossed the line, and somewhere, somehow, he knew it was being crossed again.
Hell, Kyo thought, the line was being jumped over, shattered into porcelain bits, mocked by non-believers. It might have even been erased from humanity's awareness.
But as far as he knew - and as far as the girl clutching his left arm knew - they were driving off into the sunset, on an escapade of aristocratic proportions, away from extortion and pain, some sort of twisted irony that made cliches seem irrevelant in comparison - happily ever after elopement, so...unoriginal.
...So far, so good.
---
"You told me I could fly if I put my mind to it. I didn't know you could lie back then, so I believed you. Here I am now, you son of a gun, wishing on a star for the same happy ending that you wanted. We never got it, but we're together, so I guess I'd better be grateful, shouldn't I?"