Disclaimer: I don't own Furuba, and I won't until I am 389 years old and actually like Black Adder. I don't see that happening anytime soon. In the meantime, I borrow the beautiful ideas of Natsuki Takaya and ruin them with my own, inferior words.

Well, this is my first Fruits Basket fan fiction. Please, critique it well, but bear that in mind. (Although I have little excuse for oocness, as I've been reading it for months.)

Is it understandable? I'm not trying to write it clearly. I'm writing it in a way to mimic those thoughts you have in the back of your head that never fully form. Tell me if you can't understand it though.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

If nothing else, Shigure had always been there for her.

When she was young, Akito's father had been the center of her world. He'd defended her, protected her, loved her, read to her, played with her. He was her life. The young girl, too young to understand her place in the world, only knew this; she was born to be loved, because father said so, the father she loved, the immortal man who always had to be right. She loved him, so he was untouchable, perfect.

But then, one day, he died. Akito grieved, and a young man, maybe in his early teens, was there for her. It was her dog, one of her Juunishi. Akito clung to her man, her dog, her Shigure, and cried in his arms.

When Akito's father died, the world shattered. Only Shigure was truly there, understanding her, though the others made a fine show of it. They comforted her, but left when it was time to go. Shigure let her cling throughout the funeral, and for days after was there for her.

Young Akito Sohma was a child of no particular talent, a disgrace, as she was to become head. The head of the Sohma family had to be perfect. Nothing could be out of order, done wrong. The heartbroken child, destroyed by the loss of her father, turned to sketching, trying to draw her fathers face. Her attempts were meager, unsatisfactory, and her art supplies were taken away when at last the results were seen. "The Sohma head cannot attempt something only to fail!" Akito had stared at the speakers uncomprehendingly. She would get better. The child crept off to cry, wanting them to leave her alone. She had never asked to be the head. That was her fathers job. She'd never asked for her father to die!

Then Shigure came, sneaking in, skulking around the maids until he met face to face with his God. What words were needed when the dog silently handed the crying girl a sketchbook and pencils of her own, for no one to see and take away? Akito buried her head in her dogs shoulder, sobbing, until she overcame the emotions and smiled up at him. "Thank you."

Only a few days later, as Akito read a book, a classic required for the head of a distinguished family, a knock heralded a presence at her door. It was one of her maids, bringing her the rat, her rat, a sickly boy named Yuki. The bond with Yuki was strong, strong enough to drown out the others. Akito hugged him, and played with him. He was hers, even more hers than the others. Still, nagging in the back of her head, she wanted Shigure to come see her.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Akito Sohma was a girl who loved to swim in the pond in the backyard. She would drag her playmate, Yuki, out with her, and spend hours swimming, rarely leaving until Yuki was blue with cold and coughing terribly. Often her playmate would grow sick, and the God would yell at him, wondering why she had such a sickly friend. Often the girl thought about her dog, Shigure. Would he be able to swim without coughing, without being ordered out? He was so strong, so untouchable. Akito wished Shigure would come back and play with her.

She'd only seen him at the banquets, at the funeral, with the sketchbook. Akito wondered why her dog drew her so much. He was so much older than her, so far away, and she rarely met him. She wondered if this was what a 'crush' was. She'd heard about crushes, listening far off to Kagura, to Hatsuharu, to Momiji. But did Shigure like her?

"Shigure, do you like me?" she asked her dog, her heart pounding wildly. The teenager's eyes seemed confused as he looked up at his God.

"Are you asking all the members of the zodiac this?"

"I asked a question." The girl watched her dog think, then get up and walk away. The stab of disappointment was replaced with a contentment she'd never felt as he came back, a delicate flower held in his hand.

"I care about you. More than I care about anything. And that's the honest, unshakeable truth." Akito gasped in surprise as her dog leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I love you… Akito." She felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach, and stood there, the flower in her hair, until he had been gone for several hours and the frantic maids found her staring after his back, with the eyes of a young girl thinking about her first love.

The day came when the curse of the rooster, Kureno, broke. Akito wailed, and sobbed, and Kureno promised to stay with her. He enveloped her in a hug, and Akito clung to him, sobbing. Kureno's hug reminded her of being held by Shigure, and she smiled. The entire time, she wondered if there was a way to fuse the bond again, a thought that suddenly turned into an incoherent, unrelated, paralyzing fear. If the curse of the rooster had broken, what happened if the curse of the dog broke? Would Shigure leave? Akito put it out of her mind. She was perhaps a little cruel to Kureno, but surely, surely he didn't mind. Not when she was so scared that Shigure would leave her the way he had.

Then one day, when Akito Sohma was barely twelve, they told her she couldn't swim anymore. "It's too dangerous. You're turning into a woman. No one can see." It hurt, was painful when she bound her chest each day and kept up the charade of being a young boy. She grew to hate being a girl. Being a girl kept her from the water. Being a girl made her a disgraceful head. Being a girl meant she had to endure pain, to hide herself.

But if she weren't a girl, she wouldn't have Shigure.

A week went by, and two weeks, and Akito stared longingly at the pond, remembering her dreams that Shigure would swim with her. That he would see her again. She slept miserably, and in the middle of the night, Shigure woke her up, quietly. "We can swim, if you want. I think you might miss it?" Akito wondered how he knew she missed the water, but she followed him to the pond. Dipping her feet in the soft, cool wetness, on impulse, the adolescent kissed the man in his early twenties, kissed him hesitantly on the lips. To her relief, he didn't pull away, merely stroked her hair softly. "Do you remember what I told you several years ago?" the dog asked his God.

"Yes," Akito replied, smiling when he leaned her close to him.

"Well, I still love you," the dog replied. "Nothing will change that. I'll always be here for you, Akito."

The years went by, and Akito grew, and Shigure grew, and their love grew. Neither of them suggested going public; it would cause a scandal, the age difference and the idea that the head, still believed to be male, was homosexual. No, the two were happy enough, happy to walk in Akito's gardens at night, happy to exchange kisses in the shadows.

Then one day, it happened. Akito threw up for the third day in a row. "Hatori, it's not possible," she told the man, glaring at the doctor, furious at the man for even suggesting it.

"It's probable, Akito-san. It's what your hormone levels suggest. Will you tell me who the father might be?"

Akito glared at her doctor. She couldn't tell Hatori! Hatori was always like this, always as cold as snow, so distant ever since she had sent Kana away. "Kureno," the girl lied, and went to back up her story by demanding a 'small favor' of the former rooster.

"Shigure?" she asked, leaving her room the next day and going out to the hall, where the dog waited, having heard she went in for testing. "Shigure, it… it said…"

"Well, what will we name the child?" the dog asked his god with a smile.

Akito began to prepare, to try and explain how she would come and tell the world she was a woman. Before she was ready, though, Shigure came to her, a serious look on the face of her dog. "Akito… I… I heard…"

"Heard what?" Akito asked, looking into the face of her love. "What's wrong?"

"That you… Did you… I heard you slept with Kureno!" the dog burst out. Never had her happy, playful Shigure seemed distraught, put out.

Akito remembered vaguely telling Hatori Kureno was the father, then going to back it up. "Well, yes. I didn't—I didn't want to tell Hatori you were the father."

"Why not?" Shigure asked angrily. "Do you wish Kureno was the father?"

"No!" Akito gasped, shocked. "I—Shigure? Shigure! Come back!"

But the dog didn't respond. Akito stared after him, them whirled around and stormed back into her room, staring at the wall before falling into an uneasy sleep.

It was on impulse that the God got up that night, impulse that made her open the door to her mother's quarters, impulse that made her want to talk to the hated woman. The God was not prepared for the sight she saw. Akito screamed in horror, in betrayal, and ran out of the room before anyone could stop her, ran into Kureno's arms, the Kureno who at least hadn't betrayed her, who hadn't pretended to be there for her, who hadn't thrown her away.

The next morning, Akito discovered she had lost the baby. Although she cried, it was Kureno she clung to, Kureno who soothed her. His touch might be halting, reluctant, forced, it might not excite and appease her the same way Shigure's had, but it was there, and it wouldn't betray her. She had loved Shigure. She'd thought he was there for her. But Shigure had betrayed her.

But it hurt that she could no longer say that if nothing else, Shigure had always been there for her.