Something Beautiful

by tin

Yuki and Tohru and fairy tales

something beautiful
by tin mandigma

draft: september 3, 2002
Fruits Basket copyright Takaya Natsuki and other related enterprises.

For Sakura, who loves Yuki and Tohru ^_^

************

"Honda-san. May I talk to you for a moment?"

But Tohru was already looking up from her book as soon as she heard his voice. She leaned towards him unconsciously, half-rising from her chair, before the expression on Yuki's face arrested her curving lips cold. Tohru sat back down immediately. Her foot brushed her book, which had fallen down to the floor, unnoticed. She picked it up quickly.

"Yes, Yuki-kun," she said.

"I know this is such short notice," Yuki's voice came from somewhere off the top of her head, clipped and formal. He sounded like a completely different person, but he still couldn't be anyone else but Yuki -- and she wondered why she would think such foolish things at a time like this. But then there had been too many times like this the past week.

He wouldn't even smile at her.

Tohru cleared her throat briskly.

Yuki stopped mid-sentence. "I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing," she muttered and pondered the spine of her book intently. It needed some glue and strong thread. The edges were unraveling. "Please go ahead."

"Well, I wanted to ask you if..."

She was careful to keep her face averted but her gaze strayed to the immaculate line of his polished black shoes nonetheless, only a few feet away from her own. He was standing rather close.

"... that is, I would like to know..."

As she watched, one black shoe shifted ever so slowly sideways, and then back again. Was Yuki-kun nervous? He was never nervous.

"And, um... er..."

He also never stammered. She was dismayed, curious, and quite irrationally hopeful. Nonsense of course, Tohru told herself sternly.

"Honda-san, will you do me the honor of being my guest at the ball?"

Yuki-kun had never said anything like _that_ before to her either. This time she couldn't not look up, she couldn't not smile.

"Yuki-kun," she said, trying not trip over her answer. "I --"

His large luminous eyes settled on her like moonlight.

The words fell away into distressed silence as she sank back into her chair again.

He was looking at her like he didn't want to see her.

"Kagura couldn't come," he said after a pause.

"She's with Kyou-kun and Momiji-kun," she said, dully. "In Hokkaido. They left early this morning."

"I know." His voice was wry. "That's why I'm asking."

She fiddled with her book. It was one of the older editions of Haruki Murakami's "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle" which she was reading for class. Large-type, hard-bound. Heavy.

"Unfortunately," he continued distantly, "I can't go with Haru. If you'd rather not accept my invitation, would you like to suggest a mutual acquaintance instead? Any girl will do." The last was said without any softening polite undertone that was so typical of Yuki-kun even when he was not feeling very polite.

If anything, he just sounded very nasty.

Tohru's eyes narrowed, her hands twitching convulsively on the book. She looked up at him.

Yuki-kun was smiling. It was, Tohru decided, not a very nice smile either.

************

"I don't know," said Shigure. He sipped his coffee gingerly and made a face. He unmade it quickly when he saw Tohru frown at him.

"I'm sorry but the coffee is... er..."

"Shigure-san," said Tohru. "With all due respect, I asked you a question." She was blushing as she said this, aware of the implicit, unthinkable impertinence -- Tohru was very conscious about such things -- but she also looked determined .

She must be really upset if she wouldn't even offer him a refill.

He sighed and put down his coffee cup, casting a longing glance at his folded newspaper. The young, he thought charitably, are biologically incapable of taking things in stride. Making a grand dramatic production of everything is a genetic defect of adolescents. Even the wisest of them, and here he looked at Tohru who stared back at him anxiously, are not exempt from the sweeping generalities of Mother Nature. He didn't think Tohru would appreciate the fact though. Well, he was a distinguished novelist wasn't he? He sold books by the millions. Explaining the whys and wherefores of that teenaged mania they call Love should be peaches and cream.

"Listen to me, Tohru-kun," he said ponderously. "Yuki is -- is -- Yuki -- is Yuki."

He winced. That was beautiful. Stream-of-consciousness ineptitude. His editor would feel vindicated beyond her wildest dreams. How the mighty, the great, the sadistic Sensei hath fallen.

Tohru didn't seem to have heard him. "He won't even talk to me," she said miserably. "I've tried asking him if something was wrong but he always pretends like he didn't hear me." She threw the dish cloth she was holding down the table. Shigure raised an eyebrow.

"He still walks you to school," he pointed out.

"Without saying a word all the way!" she wailed. "Oh Shigure-san, do you think he's angry with me? What did I DO?"

"What do you think you did?"

Tohru shook her head, looking ready to cry. "I don't know!"

Shigure eyed the coffee dubiously and wondered if he should risk another sip. On the other hand, it looked pretty toxic even from a distance and had probably absorbed Tohru-kun's negative vibe. Better leave it alone.

He sighed again. "Tohru-kun, I don't think Yuki is angry with you." He picked the dish towel up and began mopping the coffee stains. "I think he's only distracted."

Tohru blinked. "What?"

Shigure shrugged. "That's just the way Yuki is, especially when he has a lot of things on his mind, or when he's really busy. One of his moods. It doesn't mean he's upset. Believe me, you'll _know_ if he's mad." He smiled at her. "Besides, Tohru-kun, you should know by now that Yuki will never ever get mad at YOU, whatever you do."

"I don't know about that," Tohru said, looking down at her hands. Her cheeks were slightly flushed.

"Er," said Shigure slowly. "Is there something you aren't telling me, Tohru-kun?" Come to think of it, Yuki had looked rather incandescent when he'd come out of his room for supper last night. An even more telling detail: Tohru hadn't eaten supper at all.

"Nothing, nothing, Shigure-san," Tohru was saying hurriedly.

Shigure stared at her, a sudden suspicion dawning in his mind. "I don't mean to pry, Tohru-kun." Disclaimer taken care of, he leaned forward on the table, eyeing her sharply. "This, ah, this problem of yours with Yuki, this isn't about Kyou, is it?"

Tohru opened her mouth and closed it again. She looked confused and utterly guileless. "Kyou-kun? What would my, ah, problem with Yuki-kun have to do with Kyou-kun, Shigure-san?"

Shigure scrutinized her for a moment more, and then relaxed. "Nothing. Forget it. Except that.. well, you see how they always fight over you," he added slyly, unable to help himself.

"Kyou-kun is with Kagura-san," Tohru said calmly.

"Ah."

"I'm only thinking of Yuki-kun right now," she added with the same frightening deliberation.

"Of course," Shigure mumbled.

"Shigure-san..." Tohru took a deep breath. "The thing is, Shigure-san, Yuki-kun asked me to go to a ball tonight."

Shigure perked his ears. "Ball?"

"I wasn't really listening to him, you see..." The flush deepened. Shigure was afire with avid curiosity but decided that prudence was the better part of snooping. For now. "So I was wondering if you might know something about it..."

"I'm sorry, Tohru-kun, but Yuki hasn't mentioned any..." His glance strayed towards the newspaper. The headlines smirked at him. "Oh. THAT ball."

"You do know about it," Tohru said, looking relieved.

Shigure shook his head. "That's probably one reason why Yuki is acting like the world is sitting on his head and croaking." And why Kyou agreed to be dragged off by Kagura with only a token scream. He took the newspaper and handed it to Tohru. "Read and inwardly digest."

She accepted it, frowning. The frown vanished instantly as she scanned the front page. Tohru's gaze snapped to Shigure. Her face was very pale. "Oh no. Not -- no, Shigure-san."

"It's only the social event of the season, Tohru-kun. Royal titles and creeping parvenus and all that." His tone was ironic. Tohru only stared back at him in distress. Shigure dropped the pose, berating himself for being a dolt. "It isn't that bad, Tohru-kun," he said gently.

"I can't possibly go to that -- that --"

"Charity event?" Shigure supplied. Tohru moaned and dropped her head onto her folded arms. He reached across the table and reclaimed the newspaper."I wonder how much Akito donated this time."

Tohru peered at him. "Donated?"

Shigure rubbed the bridge of his nose as he nodded. "It's a tradition. The family gives money, we get two tickets to the lovely affair, and Akito orders two unwary cousins to attend. Momiji and Haru went last year, I think. It's Yuki's turn this time, apparently." He sighed.

"And Kagura-san is gone," said Tohru slowly. "So that's why..."

"If Akito had wanted Kagura to go with Yuki, he'd have had her shipped back from Hokkaido. Or Kyou for that matter."

Tohru considered this, her eyes pensive. "Are you saying that Akito --that Akito-san wanted Yuki-kun to take ME?"

Probably. Shigure wondered what Akito was up to this time. But he couldn't tell Tohru that. She would think Yuki was taking her because Akito forced him to. Which was also probably true, but not in the way she would most likely interpret, and that was the most hurtful way. So he smiled at her. "Or maybe Yuki wanted to ask you himself and he's only using Kagura-chan's absence as an excuse."

She seemed to brighten at that. "Do you think so, Shigure-san?"

"Sure," said Shigure. "Yuki's probably very nervous though -- the poor boy isn't Ayame." He chuckled. "Now Aya... he can go to a staid formal party and treat the event like a rock concert. Yuki will only stand daintily in the corner while the girls descend on him in droves and try to marry him off to each other."

Tohru smiled at him but she didn't speak at once. The silence extended for so long Shigure began to get nervous. "Don't worry, Shigure-san," she finally said, her quiet voice firm. "I'll take care of Yuki-kun."

She returned his startled glance with a serene gesture at the breakfast dishes. "I'll clear up now so I can get ready for tonight. Oh goodness I need to find a dress..."

Tohru-kun was indeed a very wise girl, Shigure thought approvingly. But not quite wise enough. "You do that," he said. "I'm sure you'll look very beautiful tonight, though I don't think Yuki would be so appreciative."

She blinked at him worriedly. "Why do you say that, Shigure-san?"

"Because, my dear Tohru-kun, you are the number one reason why Yuki is looking so distracted," said Shigure. He spread the newspaper in front of his face as she gasped. He heard her leap up from the table, the confused clatter of utensils. He chuckled again. There were other things he could have said -- about Yuki being his own person, about how love and Tohru-kun could change a lot of things but not everything, about relationships and growing up, about Kyou. He nearly did say them, and damn and blast Akito. On the other hand, he could just write a novel instead.

When he peeked out from behind his newspaper, Tohru-kun and the breakfast dishes were gone. So was, Shigure noted mournfully, his coffee.

************

"Tohru, why don't you try this? Come on, see how it fits. Tohru?"

"Tohru-kun."

"Tohru?"

"Eh?"

"Tohru, are you listening to me? Pay attention now."

"Of course, of course, Uo-chan. I'm sorry."

"I said what do you think of this? Cool, huh?"

"Um... Uo-chan...."

"A leopard print trench coat. Perfect."

"Shut up, Hanajima. It's got funky pink feather edgings."

"Divine."

"Well... It looks nice, Uo-chan, but..."

"You think it's not good enough for your date with that Prince of yours?"

"No, no, of course not. It's just --- um --- I can't afford it, Uo-chan."

"Twenty thousand yen."

"Is that what you're worrying about? Look, I have some money -- "

"Arisa."

"Oh, never mind."

"Shall we go visit the next shop? I have a few ideas of my own."

"Not a black lace shroud, please, Hanajima. You don't want to scare the Empress. That's like punishable by death, right?"

"No, not black. Blue, perhaps, to go with Tohru-kun's eyes."

"Hanajima, you freak."

"No more than you."

"Hey, why don't we go see that guy -- what's his name again? Yuki's brother, right, Tohru? Tohru?"

"Oh! Yes... Ayame-san."

"Yeah. That's him. Doesn't he own a clothing store or something? You showed us his card before, I remember."

"Arisa, I don't think visiting Sohma Ayame-san is a good idea just now."

"Why not? Tohru, what do you think? Tohru?"

Tohru only smiled. Arisa and Saki exchanged a meaningful look, then carefully averted their eyes. Tohru, of course, didn't notice. Arisa thought about pressing the issue of the leather trench coat but decided to drop it after due regretful consideration because, anyway, that would be taking unfair advantage of Tohru. She also decided not to force the debate on Ayame-san and his mysterious store. Hanajima looked rather fierce.

************

"Tohru-kun, shall we return with you to the Sohmas?" said Saki, anxiously. "We can help you prepare if you want."

"No, Hana-chan, thank you but I can manage," said Tohru. She was smiling, still. "I've taken too much of your time. I'll be fine."

Saki frowned. "If you're sure..."

Arisa looked pointedly at her watch. "Well, you'd better get moving then. What time did you say you and the Prince are leaving?"

"Um, eight o'clock."

Saki blinked. "Tohru-kun, you told us this morning you're leaving at nine o'clock."

The smile faltered. "I did? I'm pretty sure it's eight o'clock." She grabbed her bag. "There's an invitation here somewhere, Shigure-san gave it to me before I left so I wouldn't--" She found the invitation and held it up clumsily, her other arm fumbling to keep a rather large dress box in place.

"What does it say?" said Saki.

Tohru stared at her, stricken. "It says the ball starts at eight-thirty."

"Tohru, it's already seven-thirty!" Arisa exclaimed. "You're gonna be late!"

Tohru blanched, her smile completely gone now. "Oh... oh no... this is terrible.. this... I have to go!" She turned to leave, turned too abruptly, and dropped the box. With a little cry of distress, she knelt down to retrieve it, but Arisa had already picked it up.

"Calm down, Tohru."

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm such an idiot!" she wailed. "How could I have forgotten... Yuki-kun... he's going to get angry... he..."

Saki took her by the arm, helping her up. "It's okay, Tohru-kun," she soothed. Her friend's eyes had gone wide and slightly dazed in her agitation, but she didn't look all that different, really, from how she looked all day. And Saki knew all too well the different subtleties of expression. So, smiling, ignoring the queer pain in her heart, she took the dress box from Arisa and handed it to Tohru. "Here you go, Tohru-kun. You should go now."

Tohru looked suddenly lost, and somewhat panic-stricken. "Oh, but Hana-chan, the dress, are you sure the dress looks okay, and the shoes, maybe they don't match after all... I mean, I wasn't really thinking about it... but what will I do if... what will happen if..."

"Tohru, it's OKAY."

"Are you sure? Uo-chan, are you sure?"

Arisa grabbed her shoulders, turned her round, and gave her a little push. "YES, kiddo. Now get going before you miss the next bus and then you'd be /really/ late"

Tohru looked at them anxiously over her shoulder. "But... but you see--"

"Sohma-kun is waiting, Tohru," said Saki quietly.

As if by reflex, with scarcely a pause in between, Tohru stopped speaking, nodded once, and ran, clutching the dress box to her chest. Saki and Arisa stared after her silently. She stopped at the corner leading to the bus stop and turned, waving at them once, twice. Saki waved back. Even from a distance, they could see that she was smiling again.

Arisa relaxed. "So. That's that. Trust you to say the right words, Hanajima."

"It seems so."

Arisa grinned. "You thinking we should have gone with her, huh? Especially since... well, you know how it is with Sohma Yuki nowadays. I wonder what's wrong this time."

"Then you've also noticed. "

Arisa shrugged. "I don't understand boys. Especially," she sniffed derisively, "those damn Sohma guys, you know?"

Saki only looked sad as she watched Tohru clamber on a bus. "I don't think they understand themselves either."

************

Yuki straightened his tie, staring at his reflection in the mirror with grim forbearance as he did so. He noted distantly that he looked too pale. In fact, he looked downright sick. He wondered what Honda-san would make of that. He jerked the tie far too tight and his collar sprang up -- he let out an expletive, which he cut off instantly. Rage and an overwhelming sense of disgust filled him, at the offending tie, at his reflection, at everything. Control, he told himself, breathing deep and harsh. Think. If Kyou had been in his position... but what did that idiot cat know? Yuki thought angrily. He ran away with Kagura the first chance he got, didn't he? So much for avoiding her like the plague, so much for spending the rest of his life in a tropical depression area rather than interact with her for more than five minutes.

But Kyou didn't know about Tohru and the party and what Akito and his parents wanted. If he had known, would he have left? But he, Yuki, had known, he had known all along, and he hadn't done anything about it at all. He could have left himself, he could have taken Honda-san with him, they could have hidden until all this was over, and if Akito got angry and decided to punish him, as he surely would, he could have borne that, couldn't he? He'd borne it a thousand times, he would bear it a thousand more, not for himself, but for Honda-san.

Instead...

Oh, but /he/ was the idiot.

"Yuki-kuuuun, why are you frowning at the mirror like you're a tetchy obaasan? You don't look so pretty when you do that!"

Yuki gritted his teeth. Control. "Shigure," he said, spitting the word out, "what are you doing here?"

"Oh, that." Shigure waved his fan. "I came to tell you that the limousine will be arriving in a short while-- I was just talking to Hatori on the phone -- so you'd better finish up. Want me to fix that tie for you?"

"No, thank you."

Shigure smirked. "Suit yourself. What about your hair? It looks limp. Can I--"

"No."

"You're no fun."

"Have you," he leaned forward to study a non-existent speck on his collar, "told Honda-san?"

"Well, that's another reason I came up here," said Shigure, looking a bit sheepish. "You see, I can't find her."

Yuki gave him a sharp look. "What?"

"I mean, she's gone. She's not in her room. She isn't anywhere in the house. I thought I heard her come in earlier this afternoon but that must have been Mi-chan. Oh, that reminds me, Yuki, are your windows locked? Mi-chan's harassing me again and my study is no longer secure and--"

"Honda-san's not here?" Yuki demanded. "Why? Where did she go? Did something happen? How long has she been gone?"

Shigure raised his hands, backing away in an exaggerated fashion. "Now, now, Yuki-kun... She left this morning to shop for a dress, remember? Didn't she tell you?"

"No," he muttered, turning back to the mirror.

Behind him, he heard Shigure sigh. "Look, Yuki," said his cousin in a serious voice, "I know you don't like this at all but you should try not to be too obvious about it. Don't ruin this evening for Tohru-kun. She's really looking forward to it."

"Is she?" said Yuki flatly. "I wonder why. I haven't exactly given her reason to be excited, have I? Maybe," and his voice assumed a bitter self-mocking tone, "she doesn't want to go after all. That's why she's disappeared."

Shigure rolled his eyes. "Yuki-kun, sometimes you're really stupid."

"Shut up," he snapped. Somehow, the insult rankled more than it would otherwise have. "I don't want to hear that from /you/, Shigure."

His cousin smiled. "No," he said gently, "I'm sure you don't." Yuki glanced at him, surprised and wary. Shigure's smile widened. "Tohru-kun's coming, Yuki. Don't worry."

Despite himself, he flushed. "I'm not--I was never--"

"Meaning you should have known better," said Shigure. "That's why you're an idiot."

"You don't understand," he burst out.

"Oh?"

"I'm back!" Footsteps coming up the stairs, stumbling all over each other, she was running so fast. "Shigure-san? Yuki-kun?"

"We're in here, Tohru-kun," Shigure called out cheerfully. Yuki stood, frozen and unnerved, in front of the mirror. "Everything all right?"

"Yes! I'm sorry I'm late! I was with Uo-chan and Hana-chan and I just lost track of the time and--"

Shigure opened the door before Yuki could stop him. "That's okay, Tohru-kun. You should hurry though. The limousine's coming to pick you up soon."

"Li--li--limousine?!"

"It's just a little limousine, Tohru-kun."

"But--but I--" Yuki looked up then to berate Shigure, strangle him, stomp on the horrid tie, anything was better than standing in place like a suit of armor. Tohru caught sight of him in the mirror at the same instant. She was carrying a big box like a warding shield. They stared at each other for a long moment. Watching her in the clear glass of the mirror, Yuki wished she would smile, but she only looked somehow intense, and wondering.

"So cute!" Shigure squealed.

He was glad Shigure was there, after all. "Shut up!"

"I should go get dressed now," said Tohru. She was still looking at him, but this time he wouldn't meet her eyes. "Ten minutes, Yuki-kun. I'll be ready in ten minutes." Her soft voice made it sound like a promise.

"Tohru-kuuunnn.... would you like me to assist you in your toilette perhaps, I'm known to be rather handy with the zipper--"

"Shigure!"

"Shigure-san!"

Shigure gave Yuki a knowing wink as he shepherded Tohru to the door. "Ten minutes, Yuki-kun."

He didn't dare look at her.

The door closed.

************

Instead of changing her clothes, dressing up for the party, she just went and sat on the bed, she sat absolutely still, holding her mother's picture in her hands. She closed her eyes and she remembered Yuki's face as he watched her watch him. She tried to see herself in his eyes, what he was feeling, what he was thinking, it seemed so long since he had last let her do that -- and that wasn't true of course, she knew in her heart that nothing had changed, she was imagining big things into small things -- Shigure was right.

But small things, small moments, small smiles, had a way of disappearing unless you held onto them. And if they got bigger, if they became more important than they have any right to be, would that make them less true, anyway?

If she held on enough to the people who were important to her, even that small small effort would have to mean something, sometimes she felt like it was all she could do. Just a little longer, just a little closer, and small things could mean, she didn't know, forever, perhaps. She hoped so.

She opened her eyes. Her hands were shaking. Kyoko smiled up at her. Tohru, she was saying, sweetheart, now you're really late.

************

Someone -- Shigure or his crazy editor, probably -- had spilled quite a lot of strawberry jam on the floor. It looked nasty, he noted with some irritation, some sadness. He wondered how many jars of strawberry jam were left in the kitchen. One or two, no more. Tohru made wonderful strawberry jam. Is that your mother's jam? he remembered asking. No, she said. It's mine. Do you like it? I think I'll have some more so I can make up my mind, he said. Yukiiii-kun, she said, laughing.

When his gaze was drawn back to the floor, a blue satin dancing shoe was stepping on the strawberry jam.

Beauty triumphed over a spilled memory. His eyes lifted to the sight of Tohru, blue eyes and flowing blue satin, shining auburn hair curling just below her bare white shoulders. He didn't think that any other girl in Tokyo could have managed this in less than an hour. She had done it in less than ten minutes. But then Honda-san was beautiful in a school uniform. She needed little else but a touch of color on her lips and cheeks.

More would have been less.

She was smiling at him. She was holding out her hand. He took it; he was trembling.

Shigure beamed at them both from the doorway. "Tohru-kun is very pretty!"

Blushing, she said, "Thank you, Shigure-san." Then she hesitated. "Do you think this is all right for the ball?"

"Of course," he said. Shigure frowned at him. His voice was sharper than he intended. "Shall we go?" He took a step towards the door. She put a hand on his arm. "Yuki-kun." He stopped.

Her eyes were bright and happy as she looked up at him. "I didn't say it earlier but I think... I think you look absolutely /beautiful/, Yuki-kun. Just like a prince."

It was by far the most painful thing she had ever said to him. He looked away.

"You have strawberry jam on your shoe," he said.

************

He didn't say anything else. They sat beside each other in the limousine in complete silence. Tohru tried not to fidget; she kept thinking about her shoes so she wouldn't think about Yuki and what she had said, or not said, that he should shut her out so. It hurts, she thought, even though she'd thought about all this before, and she concentrated on keeping her jam-stained shoe off the limousine floor so she wouldn't stain it too.

She wanted to ask Yuki what he was afraid of. Surely he knew that she would never leave him.

************

Yuki was remembering his conversation with Akito. He had been summoned abruptly to the Main House one afternoon, just as he came home from school. He hadn't wanted to go of course, but Shigure had been unnaturally insistent, saying it was important. So he went, dreading it and hating it and knowing he couldn't do anything about it.

Akito was there all right but it was Hatori who did all the talking. The annual charity ball is in two weeks, Yuki, Hatori said. Akito-san wants you to go.

To the ball? he repeated, as it sank into him. But I--

You know that the Family attends it every year, said Hatori in his cold smooth voice. You have been chosen to represent us this time.

The dread grew and grew.

Tight-lipped, Yuki asked, And who will come with me? Shigure?

No, said Hatori. He stared straight ahead.

But then who? Kyo?

No. Hatori seemed to hesitate for a moment. You will take Honda-san.

He froze. Honda-san?

It was then that Akito spoke.

What's the matter, Yuki? he said in a soft soft voice. He was smiling. I thought you'd be glad. It's my surprise for you. I know how much you like that girl. Aren't you glad? Yuki?

He stared at Akito mutely.

Consider it, Akito paused, a date. When Yuki remained silent, his smile widened into something sweet and grotesque.

She thinks you're a Prince, doesn't she? Well, this is your chance to show her how much of a Prince you really are. How do they say it in English, Hatori? Prince Charming! And he doubled over, laughing until tears ran down his face. Hatori didn't look at him, but at Yuki. Prince Charming Yuki!

No, he thought. Not that. Never that.

Since his childhood years, he had seen himself in the bedtime story of Pinnochio, a story Ayame had read to him one night because, he said, he had nothing better to do. Yuki had listened intently, at first to impress his adored brother, and later on because he was so caught up in the story:

He was the puppet who ached to become a real boy.

Yuki, said Hatori gently, will you take Honda-san to the ball?

Oh, god, yes and absolutely.

He knew it was wrong. This fantasy was another stupid bleak place where he lived by himself, but he had lived in it for too long, hoped for it for too long.

Akito looked in his eyes, saw it in his face, and he laughed all over again.

************

In years past the ball had been the social event of the season and quite successful on this account. However, as a charity function, it never failed to lose money. The most lavish gala of Tokyo society drew funds from rich aristocratic families and business moguls and power-brokers, but it rarely turned much profit to the coffers of any worthy cause. Most years it ran to red ink, and this year the ball had barely broken even. Still it was well-attended -- it was the only formal event outside the House the Sohmas went to, and their presence was watched out for by a lot of people, some with more than morbid interest.

The elderly chairwoman, Sumire Tachikawa, was photographed in the act of handling an envelope to the administrator of the Children With Leukemia Fund. There was, of course, very little in the envelope, the chairwoman explained hastily in a whisper, and alas, no more was forthcoming. And so the administrator of the fund was photographed with an authentic expression of shock and slack-jawed surprise.

A nervous Tohru made an entrance with Yuki Sohma. They passed through the great doors and into the spectacle of cathedral-high ceilings and a chandelier of a thousand lights, a room of silks, sequins and brilliant color interspersed with black tuxedos. A full orchestra was on the bandstand in black tie. The acoustics were marvelous. Music swelled to all points of the room, and perfumes swirled past them on the dance floor. Yuki walked close beside Tohru, his hand on hers to complete the overload of all her senses. They still hadn't spoken to each other.

As Yuki and Tohru moved through the crowd, heads throughout the room began to turn, each head alerting the one behind. They all looked at Tohru first, then looked at Yuki, and they wouldn't look away from him. The ball photographer abandoned his model of the moment to flash picture after picture of Yuki, exploding the flashes only a few feet before his eyes. The photographer's former model, the director of Tokyo's largest bank, was left to smile foolishly at nothing at all in a pose with his wife, who also continued to smile.

Tohru smiled as well because she didn't know what else to do. Other women in the room were carefully coiffed and lacquered. Eighty-mile-an-hour-winds could not have dislodged a single hair. Her own hair waved carelessly down to her shoulders. She moved to put a hand on it self-consciously, but Yuki wouldn't let go of her. The women were staring at him, and so were the also well-manicured men. Tohru looked at him too. He stood in front of the photographers languidly, even smiling a little. His eyes had a charming, startled look which was largely attributable to flashbulb blindness. People continued to stare, some boldly, some covertly, at the beautiful young man, at the Sohma with the beautiful violet eyes, but no one looked at the ordinary young woman in the blue satin ball gown and no one noticed that she had strawberry jam on her shoe.

************

Yuki danced one dance with her. He didn't look at her and all she could do was look at him. His hand on her waist was perfunctory but she gripped the hand that held hers with the same determination with which he had held onto her when they first arrived in the ball. She was mortally afraid of missing a beat, but Yuki carried them both through the waltz with flair and he looked like he'd forgotten she was there. Few couples danced with them, and those who did would not stop staring. She wanted them to stop, but she couldn't stop herself. Yuki-kun is dancing with me.

But then the dance ended and she lost him to another partner and another and another. The dancing women -- and men -- came in legion. Yuki's silver hair, such a striking contrast to his black tuxedo, lived its own life, capturing the lights and threading them into the fine strands. Dancing amid all the gorgeous finery and sparkling jewels, Yuki seemed not to touch the ground.

A lovely dark-haired young woman came to Yuki for a waltz. They made a striking partnership, opposites of dark hair and light, turning, twirling. The other dancers slowed to watch the pair, and some of them altogether stopped. The fascination for beauty overcame everything else -- envy, and curiosity, and desire.

Tohru stood alone, not dancing and not wanting to watch anymore.

************

The dark-haired girl was pushing herself ever and ever closer to him. He held her off at a scrupulous distance because he didn't want to risk transformation and because he didn't want her close to him. The girl looked to be in her mid-twenties; he thought he had seen her in the Main House once or twice, and remembered her as the chairwoman's daughter. Yuki smiled down at her expensive pouting face, wondering what Akito would do to him if he, perhaps, killed her . They danced toward the center of the room.

"It must have been horrible growing up with a face like yours," she said, studying him.

Yuki smiled even more. "Thank you."

"The Sohmas are very shrewd, saving you for last," she said. "My mother said you'd have been wasted if you came a year ago but then your family is always one step ahead. I heard that a couple of your cousins are trying to push a big profitable deal with several other companies." She smiled. "You needn't worry, everyone is just /waiting/ to dance attendance on you tonight. What fortuitous timing." The smile turned into a giggle.

He spun her around, his thoughts running on a vicious high-strung edge.

She gazed at him, flushed and slightly breathless, as he drew her back into the circle of his arm.

"Would you like me to get you a drink?"

"In a hurry, are we?" she said, with more than a trace of malice in her voice. "I understand. You must have a long evening ahead of you. All those --" and she fingered the lapel of his jacket coyly "--business appointments."

The music ended, and he stepped away from her.

"Thank you for the dance, Miss Tachikawa," he said coldly, bowing over her hand. "It was an honor."

"The honor was mine," she said, and she was smirking. "By the way, who is that girl you came with, Sohma-kun? A cousin?"

"No, Miss," he said in a clipped tone. "She's a friend."

She raised an eyebrow. "Not a close friend?"

He shrugged. "No." She was his only friend.

"Why don't you introduce her around as well? The poor thing looks lost," said Miss Tachikawa sweetly. "I'm sure some of your -- business associates would love to talk to her, though she's too plain for my tastes. That dreadful gown! But of course, that your family should be so subtle about these things -- the Beauty and the Beast, is it? Charming. Sohma Akito-san tells me he does so love fairy tales."

************

Tohru was surprised, and dismayed, to see Yuki leaving with the dark-haired beauty. As he was passing through the doors, she saw him turn to search the sea of faces, and finding hers, he waved. There was the lift of one elegant shoulder to say, It can't be helped.

The tilt of her head to one side asked, Why not? But the doors were already closing behind him. The tight line of her mouth wobbled in an uncertain, self-conscious smile.

The music began again and the dancers whirled around the floor, making a circle of hushing fabrics, a rushing blend of perfumes, a mosaic of brilliant color and motion all around the solitary girl with the sad face, who was staring down at her shoes.

It can't be helped.

She had been hoping for one more dance.

************

She went out in one of the side-exits, unobtrusive and quick. None of the staff paid attention to her. The night air was cold and slightly moist -- it felt like rain. She wondered if she ought to look for a taxi, but she had no money on her, and she didn't want to get into that limousine again.

So Tohru walked alone. This time people did stare at her and her blue satin dress and she didn't notice them. She walked fast. She had no idea what time it was, and she didn't know if she could still catch the trains. Someone stepped in front of her, someone tall and immoveable, and she froze in her tracks.

"Excuse me," she said, shaking. She could barely say the words straight.

"Good evening."

She looked up at Hatori Sohma.

************

"Are you hungry?" said Hatori.

Tohru shook her head. "I'm okay, Hatori-san."

He didn't say anything to that and only led her to sit in a bench. They were in a small park. "You really don't have to do this, Hatori-san."

"Akito wanted me to look in on you," he said. "That's why I'm here. I saw you come out of the hotel."

"I see. Well he would be happy to know..." She clasped her hands tightly.

"Where's Yuki?"

She took a while to answer.

"He left me."

"Ah," said Hatori.

"It can't be helped," she said softly.

"Did you know he didn't want to go?" said Hatori. He reached into his vest pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He took one without looking, lit up, inhaled, let the smoke out in one continuous motion. "And he didn't want to take you with him." Hatori glanced at her. "This party is important to the Family. Yuki knows it. But not in the way you might otherwise think. I hope you understand."

She thought for a time about the girl on Yuki's arm when he left the ballroom. "I do understand. It's just... sometimes, it doesn't have to be like this, Hatori-san."

"No," said Hatori. "But it doesn't matter." He flicked ash from his cigarette. "Why did you leave Yuki?"

"Because it matters to me," she said. "Because he's my friend." She wiped a hand under her eyes quickly. "I think he'll understand."

"I think he must be devastated," said Hatori. "To be left alone like a fool in front of all those people."

"He understands," she said again.

"Ah, Tohru-kun, we ask you for too much, don't we?" said Hatori in a more gentle voice. "I know you understand, far more than you should. It's Yuki who doesn't." He let his cigarette fall on the wet pavement, ground it with his foot. "When he was a little boy, his freak intellect, his freak beauty, all apart from being one of the jyuunishi, made him a thing different from other children, almost a different species. The things the normal children did to him, what we," he paused, "did, or did not do."

"I've seen it before, at every wedding or funeral. His mother would shoo him into a crowd of children. The little monsters would torture him for a while, and then they'd run off. He would just stand there, very quiet, with this stunned look in his eyes. I think the cruelty always baffled him. And, now, all this attention, all this desire. It's all the same. I saw it in his face tonight. He really didn't understand."

Hatori lit another cigarette.

"He's just a boy, Tohru-kun."

You look beautiful, Yuki-kun. Just like a prince.

You have strawberry jam on your shoe.

She did understand.

"Hatori-san," she said quietly, "how can you say that to me now?"

This time it was he who remained silent.

"How can you tell me these things, and ask me these things, when you knew from the beginning that Yuki-kun didn't want to be in this position? Why did you have to force him to go?" said Tohru sadly. "Despite Akito-san, despite everything... I /know/ it matters to you. That is what I don't understand."

Hatori smiled at her, a small grave smile. "Because in the end he wanted to go."

She stared at him, suddenly stricken.

"He did it for you, Tohru-kun."

************

Yuki closed the door to his room quietly so he wouldn't disturb Shigure, who was sleeping down the hallway. It was cold. He walked to the window to close the shutters. Outside, it was raining.

He removed his jacket and threw it on the floor.

He sat down on the bed. He wrenched the tie away from his neck, undid the buttons of his dress shirt halfway, and then he couldn't do anything else except sit there, in the darkness, and listen to the rain.

He had been frantic when he couldn't find Tohru in the ballroom after he'd come back in, without Miss Tachikawa. The limousine driver, a Sohma cousin acting as one of Akito's bodyguards, said he hadn't seen her. No one had seen her. He had run up and down the street outside the hotel, asking passersby if they'd seen a girl wearing a blue satin ball gown, but none of them had either. Finally, he had called Shigure, who told him sleepily not to worry, that Tohru-kun was with Hatori, and he should just enjoy himself at the party with all the pretty high school girls because Hatori was bringing Tohru-kun home.

But Tohru wasn't home. He had gone to her room the moment he arrived.

Something struck his window. It was a small sound, like a light pepper of pebbles on the glass. Must be the rain, still. Yuki flopped back on the bed, rolling over and pressing his face into the pillow. He would not think about Tohru for a while. It hurt too much. He would just lie here, and close his eyes, and forget.

It hurts.

Surely she must know he wouldn't leave her.

His head snapped up at the sound of a breaking windowpane. He was off the bed and opening the shutters in an instant, ready with a small store of words he had heard from Kyou after he had pushed the idiot cat around several times in a row.

In the yard below, under the weak light of the porch, was a young girl in a shimmering blue ball gown. She was standing in the soft rain and staring up at him. The drops pocked her gown with dots of a darker blue. Her face was misted and shining, her white skin luminous. Her hair glistened with rain and lamplight. Her feet peeked out of the hem of her gown. One shoe was stained with what looked like strawberry jam.

They stared at each other for a long moment. And then she smiled at him, and blew him a kiss, and in the next moment, she was gone. He thought he heard the sound of the kitchen door opening, and wondered if he dared move.

His hair was soaked through and so was his shirt, and now he realized he was standing on broken glass. His soles were bleeding. And still he couldn't move.

Close my eyes and hold my heart.

He had never loved her more.

************

"Oh Hatori look look look! Shigure look look look!" shrieked Ayame, jumping up and down, waving a newspaper over his head. "Yuki! Yuki is on the front page! Look look look!"

Shigure took a sip from his coffee. "We've seen it, Aya darling."

Ayame turned to Hatori, who raised an eyebrow at him. "Were you also on the front page?"

Ayame beamed. "But of course! Ha-san, to ask such a thing!"

"He was on the front page for two weeks," said Shigure, "because ten bank presidents and at least five Diet members wanted to marry him. Not to mention their wives."

"How many bank presidents proposed to Yuki?" demanded Ayame.

Shigure and Hatori looked at each other. "None," said Hatori.

Ayame looked horrified. "You mean because they thought he was a girl?"

"Ayame," said Hatori repressively.

"Let's just say Yuki has his own methods," said Shigure. "By the way, Mrs. Tachikawa called earlier this morning."

"Why?" said Hatori.

"To congratulate us on a very successful deal," said Shigure. "I just talked to our lawyers. They've confirmed the contracts."

Hatrori didn't look up from the book he was reading. "Strange that Mrs. Tachikawa should congratulate us, when she and her daughter have been very instrumental in helping us close the entire thing."

"I don't know. But she did specifically ask me to send her 'respectful' and 'sincere' regards to Yuki," said Shigure, watching him.

"Like you said," said Hatori, "Yuki has his own methods."

Ayame was flipping the newspaper frantically. "But why is there no picture of Yuki and Tohru-kun together?" he wailed.

"I imagine they didn't have much time to dance," said Hatori. "You know how parties are, Ayame. And Tohru-kun is very shy."

Ayame pouted. "But still, I've been hoping to put up their picture in the shop! Love Party Love! Sleeping Beauty and Prince Cinderella!"

Hatori snorted.

"Do you have a camera with you, Aya?" said Shigure.

"No," said Ayame, frowning at him. "Why?"

"That's a pity, because you can take a picture of them now," and he inclined his coffee cup toward the veranda.

Ayame turned on his seat. Hatori looked up.

Outside in the garden, a boy and a girl danced in the sunlight.

END

Note:

O ye, unbelievers, repent! For I have finished this fic and it didn't take me one year (only three months). Thank you to everyone who read and commented on the story while I was posting parts in pornkings: Cindy, Sophie, Jae, Tarin, Sakura, Lora-hon, Kismet, Mona. ^_^

I don't remember who it was who commented in the lj -- or am I talking about a couple of people? -- that the fic didn't sound like me. I started writing this again right after finishing the anime series and reading most of the available manga translations, and I'm very impressionable when it comes to those things, so I think I was trying -- not always consciously or successfully -- to adopt the tone of the original material. That is, a lot of straight narration, and indirect shoujo fabulations, and subtitle dialogue. Later parts were written more to my 'usual' style, or at least the 'style' I'm using right now (in the chairman banana vignettes, say). I hope the transitions don't read too discordantly.

Kyou: Now I want MY Tohru Story, bitch.
Tin: When do you want it? Before or after you realize Kagura is hot?
Kyou: Damn you, can't you stick to canon just ONCE?

But seriously, this is mostly a friendly ship fic, hence the lack of Kyou-love. Though I love Kyou, with a passion. I mean, if I had been a fan of line dancing, I'd have included him in the fic. The truth is, I have a nasty feeling that the only true ship in Furuba is the Yuki/Kyou ship. Unless Takaya-sensei also thinks Kagura is hot. Because a Tohru/Yuki, or a Tohru/Kyou, wouldn't quite hold in the context of the story. Yuki being gay and Kyou being gay would definitely hold though and I mean that in the most innocent way possible given the -- context of the remark. So maybe that's what I would swing next.

The story title is derived from a Jars of Clay song, from their latest album "Eleventh Hour" -- download "Something Beautiful" here.