Title: Eye of the Beholder
Theme: 12: Orchid
Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket
A/N:So, here's my first story (ever!) where Akito is not the antagonist. I know, I know, you're wondering what the world is coming to, but I love the AkixGure pairing and I like writing about damaged people (haha). So bear with me, but I think I got them down pretty well. I wanted to show a side of Akito that's a bit different, and I don't really know how many people write about the part of her that wants to be seen as a woman, so here's the result. Enjoy!

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It was Akito Sohma's secret desire to be beautiful. The thing she wanted more than anything else in the world was to be able to look like a woman; to have people stare at her (like she knew they stared at her wretched mother) and love her or hate her instantly because she was utterly beautiful.

But the Goddess knew she wasn't beautiful. She didn't think she was even vaguely attractive. That was why she decided she had to know what she would look like if she was. She wanted to know the feeling of being sexy, attractive, or even just pretty.

There was only one way Akito could think of achieving her goal, but it wasn't going to be easy. She wouldn't even consider it if she didn't know what else to do. But since it seemed to be her only option, she ordered her mother's servants to keep Ren busy for the day somewhere away from Sohma property, and she told Kureno to leave the property for the day as well.

The only person Akito knew who owned those revealing, tight clothes that always made the wearer look attractive was, as much as Akito hated to admit it, her mother. Ren Sohma always looked like she would do- ahem- anything for a man, and for some reason that made men want to fall all over her.

Maybe she would have understood it if she was raised like an actual woman.

Having all of this in her mind, Akito snuck to her mother's room after she was sure Ren was gone and no one would catch her. Akito's heart was pounding as she padded to her mother's room, she was afraid of being caught, but also a little excited to go on this adventure. She was going to get to fulfill her desire, after all.

Just as she had expected, Ren's closet was full of everything Akito was never allowed to have. It was full of dresses, furisode kimonos, tight-fitting shirts, and miniskirts. Akito hardly had time to ponder why a woman who never went anywhere would have so many clothes while she tried to decide what to wear.

The young woman finally chose a little black dress that looked like it was made for someone in their twenties, her own age. Akito felt so awkward wearing a dress that she didn't dare look in a mirror. Besides, there was still something she had to put on: makeup. It was another thing she was, of course, completely ignorant about.

Ren's dresser was littered with eyeliner pencils, tubes of lipstick, and compacts that held blush and eye shadow, and, while Akito knew the gist of everything spread before her, she didn't know how to use any of it.

But in her quest to look and feel beautiful, ignorance wasn't going to stop Akito from trying.

She used a small mirror in one of the compacts to apply some randomly selected lipstick and the eyeliner and mascara. After a few painful pokes in the eye with the mascara brush and one instance of hearing footsteps near the door (during which Akito dashed into the closet to hide- someone catching her doing this would ruin the respect, or fear, people had for her. Luckily the person, whoever it was, passed), Akito felt she was finished, with, hopefully, some success.

The next step was, naturally, to look at herself. She didn't have to search very hard to find the one on the inside of the bathroom door. With bated breath, Akito flipped on the bathroom light and looked at herself.

The effect was considerably less than she had hoped for. To cut the polite crap, she looked, instead of beautiful, even more hideous than before.

The first thing she noticed was her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. The makeup excursion had gone terribly awry. The lipstick was too dark for Akito's face and it made her lips look like a red gash against her pale skin. Her eyes, too, stood out unpleasantly on her white skin. The eyeliner uplayed the natural darkness of her eyes and made them look like dark, gaping holes. The mascara didn't make her eyelashes look longer or fuller, they just looked clumped together.

The dress wasn't any better. It didn't hug her in any of the right places, not that she had much of anything to fill it out with. Her stark white skin contrasted with the black dress and made her look like a ghost or vampire. The short sleeves of the dress hugged her upper arms tightly and showed how skinny her arms were.

The effect of the whole thing was, in Akito's opinion, was not pleasant.

While she stared at herself, a sudden revelation hit her: She could never be beautiful. She was always under the impression that if she just had the right tools she could improve her appearance, but this proved that theory wrong.

No one would ever see her as beautiful, as a woman, because when she even tried, the result was a disaster.

It was enough to want to make Akito break down and cry, so she did.

She held back any tears until she went back into the main room of her mother's tiny living area, sat on the edge of the bed. Then she started to sob. Since there was no one to see her, she didn't try to restrain herself.

Akito cried to for the selfish desire that would never be fulfilled, and for everything she could never be seen as.

"Akito?" Akito didn't have to look up to know who said her name, and she didn't have to be a genius to know that she would never live this down. This was even more mortifying than if anyone else was standing at the door, because, although she would never admit it, the man undoubtedly staring at her was the one she had most wanted to look beautiful for.

She should have heard Shigure's footsteps, but she was crying too hard to notice anything. "What are you doing here? What are you wearing?"

And yet, in her present state, Akito couldn't think of any way to answer the Dog's question except with the truth. "Is it so wrong," she said between sobs, "to want to look beautiful for once? B-but even when I try, still look- look- look hideous. So g-go ahead. Say something cruel to me like… like always and leave me alone."

There was no answer, but Akito felt the mattress sink under Shigure's weight as he sat down on the bed next to her.

After a few minutes, during which Akito tried to without success to compose herself, Shigure pulled her hand away from her face, and then tipped her face up toward his. Shigure's expression was gravely serious while he wiped her face with the sleeve of his kimono and said, "You don't know, Akito? You always look beautiful." A small smile flickered over her face, but it wasn't joking or sarcastic, only affectionate.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

Between all of Shigure's teasing and horrible comments, there were rare moments like these that made all of it seem worthwhile. Whenever he said something kind, it was always exactly what Akito needed to hear.

Shigure wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly to him. Akito pressed her face against his chest and sniffled quietly. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" She mumbled into the fabric of his kimono.

Shigure chuckled lightly, but still said, "Akito, dear, let's not get conceited now, but, " he planted a kiss on the top of her head, "I do."

Beauty, she decided, must be in the eye of the beholder, but for the first time in her life, Akito actually did feel beautiful.