For Fruits Basket - A Beautiful Mourning
A Fruits Basket Fanfiction by Cheshire Grin
Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket. Happy now?
A Beautiful Mourning
There are, I suppose, reasons for everything. Threads that bind us all together in some way. An infinite weave, constructed not of fabric but feelings. In fact, I'm quite sure of it. Everything and everyone has a reason to exist. Just because we don't understand that reason doesn't mean it's not there.
That's something my mother taught me. At first I didn't really believe it. But then, that was ten years ago and I had trouble believing anything back then. I'll get to that in a minute. But first I want to tell you a bit about my mother. You see, I loved my mother. I still do. Not so very extraordinary I guess, I'm sure that most people love their mothers. But I really do believe she was something special.
Her name was Tohru Honda. At least it was until she turned 20. Then it became Tohru Sohma. I'm sure you're thinking that sounds like a big improvement, sure, and in some ways it was. But despite all it's status and wealth, the Sohma family also had its problems.
My mother was the kind of person who once after only one day in her company; you'd fall in love with her. She was just so kind and giving and wise and clumsy you couldn't help it. I should know. I've seen it happen. Many times. People were drawn to her and she never turned anyone away. She just inspired devotion I guess, although she never asked for it. Truthfully it used to embarrass her no end. Like me, she was very shy sometimes and I think that a lot of the time she didn't even notice the way others would adore her. But that was just her. She was more interested in helping others than concerning herself with how they felt about her.
But people did feel. People like the Sohma Family.
My family.
We all loved her, really. Once I was talking to Uncle Momiji about mother. It was just after she died. I was angry and upset and I couldn't understand how she could be gone. Uncle Momiji was always my favorite and he sat me on his knee and said, "Kumi, believe me. There is no person in this entire family who would not give up anything they owned, even their life, this very moment if it would bring your mother back. I know you may not understand this just now but your mother was a very special woman. You must never, ever forget her. I know I never will and I don't think any other Sohma will either."
"But why not?" I asked.
"Because she is the one human in the entire world who has always loved and accepted us, even though she herself was never cursed or even born into this family."
And then my uncle, always the cheeriest of all, began to cry. It surprised me so much that I started crying too.
At one time or another, all of the Sohma's who knew her have said similar things to me. So I guess you can see why I think so much of her. After all, through most of my life she was the one person I could always cling to, no matter how scared I was. And considering who I am, I get scared a lot.
But here I've gone and messed up the whole beginning. I've spent it all telling you about my mother without saying anything about me.
My name is Kumi Sohma. I guess you could say I'm the head of the Sohma family. That's right. Head. Pretty strange seeing as how I'm only 17 years old, huh?
Before I can go any further, I suppose I'd better tell you something about my family. You see we are cursed. Most of you probably won't believe in silly superstitions such as curses but I can assure you that they do exist. Our curse is a particularly unusual one. We uh… we turn into animals.
Weird huh? It's an old Chinese curse you see, having to do with the Zodiac. In case you don't know, within the Chinese Zodiac there are twelve animals. Every year is named after a certain animal; Dog, Rat, Snake, Monkey and so on. There are twelve animals in all. Every twelve years the cycle begins again. There's also an old legend. According to this legend there were originally thirteen animals. The thirteenth animal was the Cat. As the legend went, one day the Emperor invited all the animals to a banquet at his palace. He told them all to come the next day. But the Rat, enjoying practical jokes, went to his neighbor, the Cat and said that the banquet was being held on in 'two' days time. The next day, all the other animals arrived in time for the banquet, the Rat leading the way, riding on the Ox. But the poor deceived Cat didn't show and was therefore never included in the Zodiac.
Just a legend. An old fairy tale if you like. But there must be some truth to it. You see, my family's curse is like a re-enactment of that old legend. At any one time there are fourteen people bearing the curse. Of those fourteen, twelve are cursed to transform into the animals of the Zodiac, one takes the form of the Cat and the last plays the part of the Emperor.
I am one of the cursed ones. The Emperor. Or perhaps Empress in my case. Seven months before I was born, the previous Emperor, Akito Sohma, died. In accordance with the curse, the first Sohma child conceived after the death of a cursed Sohma will bear his or her curse. Thus it continues itself into eternity.
That child was me, Kumi Sohma, daughter of Yuki Sohma and Tohru Honda. Cursed to become the mythical Chinese Emperor and thus the head of the family. That is the way the family works. The Emperor is always the head of the family because the animals must always obey him or her to the letter. Otherwise it causes them pain. The Emperor cannot be disobeyed.
Sounds like a good deal for me, doesn't it? Not really. There's more to it. For those who represent the animals the curse takes shape by transforming them into animals if they are hugged by a member of the opposite sex or under periods of great stress. As for me, well I don't turn into an animal. My curse is perhaps the worst of them all.
I was born knowing the very day and time of my death.
Horrible isn't it? But true. I know exactly the moment I will die. 11:14 a.m. tomorrow morning to be exact. That's why I'm writing all this down. I don't really know whom it is I am writing it for exactly but I feel as if I must. These words are my thoughts you see, things I could never say, memories, feelings. They are important to me and I don't want them to be forgotten.
Although I will never have any children to remember me, there are others who have been just as important to me. I don't have the time to say these things to them one by one and I hope they can forgive me if I couldn't say them before now. At the moment I have roughly 15 hours left to live. That's not much time really but I think it will be enough. Please let it be enough.
I never had a chance to meet to Akito Sohma. That is something I deeply regret, although it is entirely impossible. Realistically, he had to die for me to be born. But nevertheless, I wish almost desperately that I could have met him, talked with him at least once. There are so many things I would have liked to ask him.
From the way I've heard the others talk about him I can guess he was a person who had a great deal of trouble dealing with his curse. Most of my relatives who knew him are rather reluctant to talk about his life. My father is perhaps the most reluctant of all although it is from him that I have learned the most about Akito. But that is only because I have asked him far more times than I have any of the others.
Akito it seems was a very cruel man. I say man but perhaps boy would be more accurate as he only lived to be 24 years old and during the last five years, just after he met my mother a change seemed to come over him. Although he was still very easy to anger, he gradually ceased to be so cruel. This change in character on his part is generally attributed to Mom.
However, before he met her he is said to have been downright nasty. In particular he liked to pick on my father, beating him amongst other horrible things. As he was the Emperor, no one could refuse him but the result of his cruelty was that everyone hated and feared him.
Hatori, the oldest of the current Zodiac members lost the sight in one eye after Akito flew into a rage. Mom said it was because Hatori asked permission to marry a girl named Kana. Akito was angry and lashed out. Although it was an accident, Hatori lost the sight in one of his eyes. To make matters worse, Kana was eventually consumed by her guilt, blaming herself for his misfortune. Eventually, Hatori lost her as well.
As terrible as it sounds, I can understand the anger that caused it all. I can understand it because I have to live with it. The curse is terrible burden and there are times when it becomes all but unbearable. How can you celebrate for others what you can never have yourself? I grew up knowing I would only live to be 17 years old. I knew I would never have a chance at love, never marry, never have children. Never have a chance at so many other things. The temptation toward hatred is tremendous. I cannot even count the times I've stood in front of my mirror, hating myself, hating everyone, wishing I had never been born. It's something that I would not wish on my worst enemy. Even if I lived long enough to make real enemies.
It's the unfairness of it all, really. I mean I never did anything to deserve this curse. I was born with it. I have never known a life without it. Why is it decreed that I should be punished in this way? Why am I tormented? Why was I singled out?
The fear and anger and hate are something that can eat you whole. I have this theory that feelings really are alive, that they exist as small invisible entities inside peoples minds… invisible maybe but full of teeth, always fighting and tearing and devouring one another. If there are no other feelings to feed on… well… then they start eating you instead. There isn't any way that you can get rid of them. The only thing you can do to defend yourself is to eat them instead. It doesn't get rid of them though. They're still inside you… but it makes them manageable. You have to lock them down inside your stomach where they can't do much damage. But they never go away. They just wait down there in the dark, hoping you to let them out again.
Fear, anger, hate, depression. They are things that I am intimately familiar with. Things that Akito Sohma was familiar with. Sadly enough I can understand how he could do some of the awful things he did. And I can see myself doing the same things. I can see the potential inside myself and it scares me almost to death.
Are we all just like children, afraid and alone, crying out for help within our own small worlds of pain and confusion? Is our reality so bleak? Are we always surrounded by such a dark nothingness, a perfect loneliness? Are our lives nothing more than a period of waiting, waiting for someone to step inside that world so we don't have to be alone?
What has always terrified me the most is that, in order to combat this hideous loneliness, I may drag someone else down with me.
But I don't have to worry about that anymore. My time is almost up. So far I've been strong. Resisted the hatred. I may not be perfect but I am not cruel. Somehow I've succeeded where Akito failed. I wonder how? I have an idea though.
You see, the first memory I have is of my mother holding me and saying, "I love you!"
I wonder sometimes what Akito's first memory was.
I… I want to hate him. Akito, the man who gave this curse to me. Yes, that's the real truth. One more tragedy in the chain that makes up this family. One more nightmare in the weave. I can only imagine how he must have looked that night, when he died. The blade protruding from his open kimono, the bloody cross he had carved into his own frail body. He was far too traditional to have died in any other way. They wondered how he had the strength. No one talks about that night anymore, not those who saw him like that. But I've heard things. Snippets of conversation, shocked, round mouths and that overwhelming sense of horror. I've always been sensitive to those things. They say he looked happy. They say he died smiling.
My father never forgave him. My mother never spoke of that night. It was sad in a way. Her wedding night should have been special. I find myself wondering sometimes if Akito had planned it all out. Yet surely he couldn't have known that I would be conceived on that night.
I want to hate him for what he did, that final, hideous gift. For the look my father sometimes has when Akito's name crops up in conversation. For the way my mother never spoke to me of her wedding night. For the burning fuse and the terrible knowledge that he left within my body. I want to hate him. But I can't, I know him too well.
I know why he died that night. You see, he told me.
I found his diary when I was fifteen. I never told my father about it. As far as I know, no one even suspected that he had kept one. Perhaps Hatori may have known but if so he never mentioned it.
He had left the diary in the library. Perhaps he wanted me to find it. I would not put it past him. He was a clever man despite his temper and his bitterness. I remember taking the diary to my chamber that night. I can still remember his last words.
"…and my favorite. What can I say to you but… that I am so sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. I… I wanted to save you. Save us all. I didn't want to be angry but I couldn't help it. I'm sorry he hurt you. I'm sorry I let him. I'm so sorry that I wasn't strong enough to hold him back. But… I'm glad that you can be happy now. Maybe with this one final gift I can ask you to forgive me. Maybe… this one last thing will give you peace. When he is reborn… I hope you will both be able to forgive."
The shock I felt when I realized that he heard the voice too. When I understood what it had done to him.
And what he had been trying to do.
And I am grateful to him for what he achieved. Because I love my father. Because I am ABLE to love him.
Because finally the Emperor was able to forgive the Rat.
I haven't really told you everything I know yet have I? In fact I'm not really sure if anyone in the family knows about these things. Not the true extents of the curse. I discovered a lot of information in Akito's diary. I found more in a journal of his that was hidden in the large desk in the library. When I removed a drawer I found it lying in a cavity underneath. It appeared he had devoted a lot of time to studying the old legends and the family history. He had discovered some strange things.
That while we are human; we are also Avatars of Gods, possessed of two souls, human and animal. It seems that the Emperor was very angry with his children when he found out why the cat had not attended the banquet. He was very upset to learn that his children had brought deceit into his perfect realm. And so he banished their souls into the mortal realm as punishment, until a time when they may redeem themselves. He also sent a part of himself to watch over them. Somehow he imprisoned their souls inside the bodies of my family. While they remain prisoners inside their host body and may never gain control of the body, their feelings do affect us. We feel their anger, no not just feel it. It is as much a part of us as the souls of those animals are.
That all members of the Zodiac were actually real people, that there were no differences in DNA or blood that made them change into animals. The transformations occurred on a purely electrical level. Akito suspected that under certain circumstances, the soul of the animal gained a greater hold over the body, and as the soul forms the genetic blueprint of the body, the atoms of the body simply reassemble themselves in the manner proscribed by the dominant soul.
He also said that the soul of the Emperor was still angry. So he punished his children, generation after generation, reserving a special hatred for both the Rat and Cat whose selfishness and stupidity had begun the whole process.
Poor, poor Akito. How much it must have hurt him to feel that being's burning hatred for the boy he admired so much. How horrible it must have been, trying to get close only to have his feelings twisted into a cruel mixture of love and hatred by some force he barely understood. His diary is filled with his regrets. It was so tragic but a beautiful book to read. A side of him that few ever saw. I am always amazed at how my mother was able to see that beauty in other people. Or even if she couldn't see it, she always believed it was there.
Akito knew he could do nothing to stop the curse. Any knowledge of what the conditions are for redeeming the animal's souls has long been forgotten, or perhaps never even existed. I am sure the Emperor would have liked his children to figure it out by themselves. Forgiveness is what Akito suspected must occur. To forgive and be forgiven by others.
And so Akito did the only thing he could. He died, hoping against hope that the next Sohma to be conceived would be me. That by placing the Emperor under the care of the Rat, he could finally give the Emperor a chance to forgive the poor creature.
Akito… I hope someday we will meet and I can tell you that it worked. That it all worked.
I want to tell you of my childhood. How, no matter how much I cried in fear when my father first held my infant body, he always protected me. No matter how I screamed at him or forced him away as a child, no matter how much hate the Emperor inside me felt toward him, my father always loved me.
I want to tell you most of all of how when I was six years old I felt something inside me fall away and I was finally able to love my father back.
I want to tell you how good that felt. And Akito…I want to thank you.
I've never told anyone the exact time that I will die. At least I don't ever remember doing so. It's a private thing. A secret thing. Not something that arises often in conversation.
But more than that, it's almost a taboo. No one has ever asked me and I have never told anyone either. It's enough of a burden for me to live with without passing it on to someone else.
I've been tempted though. Very tempted. To let someone in. Bring them close. Confide in them and maybe lessen the sorrow that perpetually clouds my mind. A selfish notion. Childish, I know. It's strange we should need the interaction of others so much. Strange the effect a person can have on another.
I've always been shy around others. Couldn't be helped, really. My health is and has always been bad, another facet of the curse. Not content with just shortening my life, it has to make it harder. But before I get too far with the whole self pity thing… I guess I should return to what I intended to tell you when I started writing this. I suppose what I'm trying to write down is my story. There are other reasons for this but mostly it's a story.
It's selfish, I know, but I want people to remember me when I'm gone. I want people to know about me, perhaps even care about me, if only a little. Mostly I want people to know that even if I couldn't do anything else for them, even if I sometimes didn't show it, I do care.
My friends. My family. I want you to know that I love you all.
My parents must have had a great deal of trouble bringing me into this world. Members of the Zodiac rarely marry. Having children happens far less often. There's a reason for this. Simply put, if you involve yourself with a cursed person then every time you ever hug that person, he or she will transform into an animal. I think perhaps this is the most terrible facet of the curse, beyond even my burden. I can't possibly describe the horror that fills me when I remember how my mother could never truly get close to my father. How careful she had to be, touching him. Oh… there were ways of course, places she could touch without him transforming. It seemed to be the heart that set it off. This was what Akito's research had also suggested. There was a certain distance that must be maintained, not much, perhaps twenty centimeters, nothing more than the span of a hand. And yet to my mother it must have been as far away as the moon.
I cried the first time I realized how cold my conception must have been for both of them. It tears me apart when I think of my mother and how, for all her love, there was always that one obstacle it could never overcome. Sometimes… I wonder if the only reason they bothered that night was to create me. A physical object to bridge that gap they could never truly close. I hate myself every time I think it. I know… deep down I KNOW… that it's not true. Mother would never have thought like that. Neither would my father. Their love was far greater than that.
I still feel it every so often when father stands outside, looking up at the stars with that gentle look of his and I know he is thinking of her, wanting desperately to be with her. When I watch him stand there my heart breaks for him but then he always turns to smile at me and I know he loves me just as much and that he is happy to wait.
All of the memories I have of my mother are blurry. I was only nine years old when she died. I… I remember her, of that I am sure. I can remember words and stories, images and actions that all happened when she was alive. But as hard as I have tried to remember them, they are always incomplete. It's the small details that make so much difference. I start thinking 'What color vest was she wearing that day? Was it blue? Green?' or maybe 'Was that story she told me about foxes or raccoons?'. Small things that leave tiny holes in my memories, but those holes are enough to make me wonder how much I really remember? It hurts so much, having her face fade away on me like that. I spend hours sometimes looking at photographs of her, memorizing over and over again the way she looked.
But nothing will ever make me forget the day she died.
We were shopping. Mother and father took me out that day, rather than leave me with Auntie Uo and Kyo. Uncle Ritsu came along too. I had always liked Uncle Ritsu. He had always made a special effort to be nice to me although even now I have no idea why. Sometimes, perhaps he acted a little feminine, and I had trouble not thinking of him as Auntie Ritsu, but I didn't mind so much. He was funny and his clumsy kindness was endearing.
He had become a good friend of my mother, like all the Sohmas. Mother had a kind word for everyone. You just couldn't help but like her. I remember that. She made you feel like gold and Uncle Ritsu was no exception. I think he just liked to listen to her. He was usually very reticent about speaking although he did tend to say 'Thank you' a lot.
But here I go, crying again. I hope you can forgive a few tearstains on the paper. Even after eight years, I still can't defend myself against that day.
Mom… well… she had this way of touching people. She would do it effortlessly. It was part of her charm. She was so kind. Just a few words and you would do anything thing for her.
Like Uncle Ritsu.
When… when the car rushed toward her, he jumped in front of her. It's one of the things about him that was easily overlooked. He was so agile and fast. Father was too far away, looking in a shop window. He only noticed just before it hit. He didn't have time to do anything.
I remember watching Ritsu jump. I kept thinking 'Not enough time! Not enough time!' I saw him shove her toward me as the car hit him. I remember it clipping mom knocking her sideways in a limp spiral. As she fell toward me, I remember the thud as she hit the ground, felt it enter my ears and rip my soul out as she made contact.
Father shrieked behind me, inhuman. It was nearly as bad, hearing him like that. I think I… stopped thinking after that.
I came to in the car, on the way to the hospital. Vague blurry splotches danced behind my eyes. My ears hurt. My brain just felt like it was full of static. Like someone had just belted me.
Ritsu was dead when we arrived. Mom was barely able to move. Her hospital bed was surrounded by doctors and alien devices as they examined her. They told us she was dying. They could perform surgery but it would almost certainly kill her and even if she survived the operation, she wouldn't outlast the day.
They gave her morphine and left hurriedly. Father collapsed by her bed. He seemed to be trying to speak but nothing came out. I… I just stood there, unable to move until she reached out her hand for me. "I love you Mom." I said, hoping stupidly that those four magic words would somehow make everything better again. Mom just nodded, in obvious pain. She coughed and a trickle of blood escaped down her chin. I felt so suddenly sick I almost threw up. Bile trickled into my mouth and my stomach compressed until I thought it would explode.
"Yuki? Kumi?" She said. I felt my soul begin to fray away at the edges. We looked to her outstretched hands. She coughed again and looked up at us as we held her. "I…L..love you. I'm so happy…" She said. When she died… I couldn't help thinking that even under all the blood and bandages… that smile of hers… she looked so beautiful. I cried for a long time.
Then I remembered Ritsu. I know… I know it sounds horrible but the first thing I thought was 'Thank you. I got to say goodbye.'
The full impact of Ritsu's death came to me a lot later. Grief is cruel. There's only enough room for one person. My mother had occupied all my thoughts. I only came to realize Ritsu's gift as those first, horrible nightmares ended. The tears came back but this time tinged with a terrible and sad kind of pride. His simple kindness burned itself into my heart.
I went to see his mother and told her everything. I told her how much I loved him. How hard he tried for my mother. We both cried long into the night.
Later I went home and hated God for a very long time.
There is a tendency in me, I think, to over-dramatize the life of my mother. You have to understand, of course that I only knew her for nine years, years in which I was extremely young and impressionable. I don't want to over-dramatize her. I want you to see her the way I did and if possible, the way I do now. I want her to be real for you, not the legend which she has since become among the younger generations of the family.
Over the years, I've asked about her a lot. Many remember her and I have always been ready to listen. After her death I found out how little I truly knew. Like I said, I was only nine when she died and that didn't really leave time for many stories. I've held the few she did tell me close in my memory, treasures that seemed so commonplace at the time they were given. But that wasn't enough. I wanted to know more, everything I possibly could now that she wasn't able to tell me. So a lot of what I know of her life is secondhand.
Auntie Uo and Kyo were, surprisingly, the largest source of stories. Aunt Hana also related quite a few as we used to sit, drinking red wine in her small apartment, laughing, crying and mourning for a woman who was, in many ways, both a friend and a mother to the two of us. Many others have contributed, not the least of whom are the other Sohma's. Uncle Momiji, Uncle Shigure, Ritsu's mother, Kisa and even Hatsuharu on the few occasions I've met with him, have all told me things, usually quite unique, about her. It has, I think, been the one thing that allowed me to deal with mother's death. The fact that almost every time I have spoken to these people who knew her, I have learned something new about the woman, some brilliant new shade that adds itself to her beauty. I wonder if I can even put that sensation into these clumsy, unfeeling words, the sheer, blinding beauty of those moments as I saw her again through someone else's eyes. The amount of times I have simply burst into tears in the middle of these conversations, not out of sadness per se but a strange, ethereal joy during that time when she once again came alive to me through the recital, the way the image of her I carry in my heart is reborn each time and added too, made more complete.
None of Mother's family or friends seem to be to be able to talk about her with dry eyes. Auntie Uo is the worst. It always cracked me up, you know, the way she seemed so, well… menacing I guess but how, when you got to know her, you realized what a big crybaby she was.
Let me back up a bit here.
Mother has always attracted a strange mix of people. I find it hard to comprehend myself but the truth is that, for some reason, the majority of people in her life have been quite unusual. I suppose that I can't really say too much, I'm quite strange myself. The weird thing though is that it makes sense when I think about it. She truly was the kind of person who would accept anyone, regardless of who they were, and I guess that naturally drew in those who felt that they needed that acceptance.
Saki Hanajima and Arisa Uotani are quite the strange pair. They were mom's friends through high school and have always remained close. They both watched over me when mom died and in their own ways, have become special friends… no, not simply friends, they have become family. For me they will always be Aunt Hana and Auntie Uo.
Let me tell you a bit about Uo first. She's the kind of woman you hope doesn't look at you when you pass her in the street. The kind you walk quickly past and don't look back. At least, that's when it comes down to first impressions. Everything about her just projects ferociousness. Her blond hair, the long skirts she wears, the strange, unconscious grimace she has and even the way she doesn't walk exactly but prowls, like she's searching for her next victim. If you'd just met and were asked to come up with a word to describe her, you would have to say aggressive.
And yet having said all that, the funny thing about Arisa is that she is really one of the kindest, most loving women I have ever known. She's the kind of person who would give you anything she owned if she thought you needed it.
Saki has changed little since she was in high school. I've seen photos and they always amaze me. She wears her hair out these days rather than in a braid, but otherwise there has been little that has changed about her. While in her thirties, she looks at least ten years younger. I always used to ask her "Why do you look so young, Aunt Hana?" She always gave the same response. "Magic!" she said, smiling elfishly and laughed.
Auntie Uo always tells me it's because she's never married. But Arisa Uotani always says stuff like that. Like how she thinks getting married took at least ten years off her own life. Whether or not that's true I can't say but the fact is she does look older than Aunt Hana. Her age is beginning to show now and she has had to cut her hair short since the blond dye she uses caused the ends to fray. Now she looks a lot like the photos of my maternal grandmother, Kyoko.
Did I tell you that she married Kyo? That's a weird story, right there.
Neither Uncle Kyo or Auntie Uo, as I call them, will tell me about it, so I had to ask Aunt Hana. She told me the whole story over a bottle of red wine and we both laughed ourselves half to death.
Auntie Uo met Kyo in middle school. They were both in the group of friends that surrounded my mother. Aunt Hana told me that by second year, my mother had pulled every Sohma at school into the group, so that along with Mom, Saki and Arisa, it also included Yuki, Kyo, Momiji and Hatsuharu. I was horrified of course, three normal girls and four cursed boys, Mom must have been just asking for trouble. I can only imagine all the accidents that must have occurred.
Especially seeing as how Arisa took an instant liking to Kyo and teased him unmercifully. Arisa's teasing is usually always the same, that is… when she does it to me at least. She grabs you around the neck and rubs your hair so hard it brings tears to your eyes and then when you're about to yell at her, she just hugs you so hard you can feel your ribs compress, all the while wearing a big, goofy smile across her face. Somehow, you can never stay angry with her.
Strangely enough, Aunt Hana told me that she and Arisa never twigged to the curse until much later, when Kyo finally returned.
It turns out that Arisa had always been fairly attracted to Kyo, and really, nowadays they make the perfect pair. But back in school it was awkward. Arisa was Mom's friend first and foremost and since it was obvious to everyone that Kyo liked Mom, poor Arisa, without saying anything, just gave up and settled for teasing him.
This all changed after high school when Yuki Sohma proposed to my Mother and she accepted. Stating it so calmly seems like a bit of a mistake. In reality the whole thing caused one of the biggest uproars in the family's recent history, rivaled only perhaps by the time Akito died.
It seems that Kyo had been aware for a while that he was losing the war for Mom's affections and when she and Dad got engaged, it was the last straw. Kyo disappeared from Shigure's house and no one saw him for four years. The day he left Mom found a note from him that had been slipped under her door.
She always kept it and showed it to me once, when I had rather unwisely asked her why she hadn't married Kyo. It was very simple, just one line but so beautiful that my heart ached when I read it. It said 'I just want you to be happy.'
Poor Kyo. I feel so sorry for him, even though if things had worked out differently, I might never have been born.
My mother cried for a long time after. I can imagine how she must have felt. The worst thing for her was always having to hurt other people.
He never came to the wedding. Since no one knew where he was, Mom couldn't even send him an invitation.
Kyo finally did return, three years after Mom and Dad had been married. When I come to think of it, it was not that long after I had been born. Perhaps that was why although I can't imagine how he could have come to hear of it. However, for whatever reason, he did return. Aunt Hana says he was almost a different person, more mature and in control of himself. She says Mom was so happy that Dad was a little jealous.
Of course Mom invited him over for dinner right away. Saki and Arisa came along too in hopes that it would not become too awkward. Funnily enough, it wasn't.
The first thing that Kyo did when he arrived was challenge Dad to a fight. Mom was a nervous wreck but this time things were different. Kyo won. Easily. For just a moment the whole situation looked as if it were about explode. Then Kyo smiled and helped my father up. "You've gotten soft Yuki." He laughed. Dad just smiled back.
There was no magic resolution, of course. The two of them still acted awkward around each other. But for the first time in four years, something started to change. For the better.
After that, Kyo came around a lot. Ostensibly he said it was to make sure that Dad didn't get too soft but after a while they gave up on their duels and Kyo spent the entire time playing with me. He loved me from the start and I have many fond memories of him as a child. As I was part of the Zodiac as well, he could tackle me as much as he liked and never change. Well, HE called it tackle. Anyone else would have said hug. Considering who I was, I think as a child I was much closer to Kyo than my father, but to Dad's credit he never said anything and I have only happy memories of those times.
I've never met Kagura. After Mom and Dad's wedding she also disappeared. For quite some time people imagined that she and Kyo were together somewhere but then Kyo returned and Kagura didn't. We know she is still alive somewhere, as there have been no new Sohma's born under the sign of the Boar. Somewhere, probably far away, she is still alive. Several members of the family have searched for her but it seems that she does not wish to be found.
What makes the whole thing so tragic is that of all the loves which have grown within the family since my mother came to be a part of it, hers was the only one that, had she not been denied it, would have been complete.
It was at my parent's fourth anniversary that Kyo and Arisa got together. Mom was big on parties, she just loved an excuse to bring everyone together. She was always the hub of the family. Everyone revolved around her like the spokes of wheel. The beautiful thing was that, like a wheel, they all ended up connecting at the other end. In many ways, Mom's love was like magic. It just radiated from her and ended up infecting everyone.
This time the whole family was present and as always, when my family together they became quite rowdy. Uncle Ayame always starts it all off. I've never known quite what to think of him. Of all the strange individuals that make up my family, he is one of the weirdest. When I was born he was delighted with me and throughout my life he has made a great many efforts to be my friend. When I was young he continually compared me to my father, something which, I am sorry to say, I didn't at all appreciate at the time. Although he comes over regularly, he never stays long and always ends up arguing with Dad. He has always given me the impression of a whirlwind of emotions, dressed in the most bizarre fashions and radiating an unlikely mix of outrageous selfishness and quiet, unspoken kindness. He treated my mother and myself like royalty and was always showering us with gifts, mostly clothes he had made himself.
It was from Ayame that I received the most beautiful photograph of mother that I possess. It was taken when she was quite young and in it she is wearing an enchanting old-fashioned yellow dress that makes her look like a fairy-tale princess. I keep her safely on my bedside table. Perhaps it is silly of me but I always imagine that her spirit watches over me from behind that frame and after my ever-present nightmares I find it calming to watch her and imagine that she is comforting me in some way.
On this occasion, Uncle apparently decided that it was about time he praised Kyo for his new mature outlook and proceeded to do so in what he must have thought was the most charming manner. What Uncle Ayame always fails to realize is that he uses the exact same charm that is such a hit with the women, on the men as well. While some men, strangely enough seem to appreciate this treatment, Kyo definitely does not and when Ayame flung an arm across his shoulders and started informing him of what a handsome and charming young man he had become, Kyo freaked out and gave the poor man such a thrashing that he spent the rest of the party recovering with Shigure. An outraged Kyo stalked off into a corner to sulk. Arisa, becoming bored with the proceedings and having no one to argue with, found him nursing his drink and rather unwisely whipped out the two enormous bottles of sake she had brought and challenged Kyo to a drinking contest. Kyo, with his manhood on the line, accepted and the two advanced quickly to the stage of roaring drunk.
Auntie Uo can be a very forward woman sometimes and when she has set her eye on something it is very difficult to deny her. Now that Kyo had seemingly come to grips with losing Mom and he was no longer spoken for, she apparently decided that now was the time to go for it. Perhaps she had planned it all out beforehand, she can be quite devious when she wants to, but after bantering vigorously back and forth over their glasses, Arisa leaned over the table, grabbed a shell-shocked Kyo by the head and planted a deep and forceful kiss directly onto his lips.
According to Aunt Hana, Kyo wasn't the only surprised person in the room. Conversation came to a halt all around them and the company paused to stare at the pair, in some cases with extremely worried expressions. The kiss lasted for a long time and just as everyone had either shrugged their shoulders or breathed a sigh of relief, Kyo's inebriated brain caught up with the situation. As Arisa released him and gave him a bright if somewhat drunken smile, Kyo, finally registering a shocked expression, transformed.
Arisa stared, uncomprehending at the cat that was now sitting where Kyo had been, watching her with wide, confused eyes. For the first time in anyone's memory, Arisa Uotani fainted.
I guess when I think about it, it must be a huge shock to actually witness the transformation. I've grown up knowing about it for my entire life so I can only imagine that shock. Most people do not believe that those sorts of things actually exist. So how would it feel to see something like that with your own eyes? To be forced to re-examine their beliefs in that split second when the unnatural occurs. Does it all seem like a dream? Is it like discovering a magical fantasy world that exists within your own? Is it something that you gradually come to accept as you step further within its boundaries? Or is the feeling more akin to horror as the reality you know and understand is wrenched out from under you and strange, terrifying things pop out from the darkness underneath.
These are questions I often ask myself because I want to know how my mother felt when she first stumbled upon the Sohma curse. Was she afraid? While part of me would like to think that she was, especially considering how much it sometimes frightens me, I really can't believe it. It just wasn't in her nature. Mom was always the kind of person who would look at anything unusual with a sense of wonder. I think if anything she would have thought of the curse in terms of a fantasy world.
Initially, Arisa had the opposite reaction. Luckily Kyo had long since disappeared by the time she regained consciousness. The shock was so great that she babbled and spoke little more than gibberish for quite some time, asking over and over if Kyo was a demon. It took my mother a long time to calm her down and finally after a great deal of soothing, Mom explained the curse to her friends.
Dad brought Kyo back and together they demonstrated. After a moment's hesitation, Arisa reached down and stroked the ginger cat. Mom gave Kyo a gentle smile and he consented, grumbling. Arisa gave him a sad smile and said, "I'm sorry. Y'know, I've always liked cats."
Maybe it was because Mom had married Yuki, or maybe because when Mom liked something, you couldn't help finding yourself beginning to emulate that affection. Maybe Mom talked her into it or maybe Arisa was just strong. Whatever the reason, she didn't give up on Kyo. After that, whenever Kyo was around she used to creep up behind him and hug him to make him change. Then, once he was in his cat form she'd pick him up and cuddle him. The first few times he freaked out and scratched her quite badly. But like I said, Arisa can be very hard to deny and she kept it up. After a while Kyo just yelled at her. Eventually, he gave up and relented, lying curled up on her lap. When he thought no one was looking, he would sometimes start purring softly, a strange shamefaced but contented look on his face as if for just this moment, the fact that he had found a place where he was appreciated was almost worth the indignity.
"That's where it all started." Aunt Hana told me, an almost envious smile on her face. "Taming the wild Kyo?" I joked. We both laughed.
"I wish I could have seen it." I said. She laughed again. "Yes. It was most amusing. She looks cute with her pet cat."
"You're not envious?" I asked her. Aunt Hana gave me a strange smile.
"No. I prefer dogs."
I have a special place in my heart for Auntie Uo, you see. She has always seemed to know exactly what I needed. That's the strangest thing about Arisa. She has the most amazing talent of seeing herself through another person's eyes.
She has always been around me. We got on well from the very beginning. While Mom was alive she and Uncle Kyo would often baby-sit me when my parents went out. I never minded too much as I always enjoyed being with them. The two of them were just like big kids, in a way they were the childhood friends I otherwise never had a chance to make, seeing as how I was always too sick to attend any kind of school.
We used to have a lot of fun playing together. Dinner was always a disaster however as neither of them could cook. I wondered sometimes how the two of them ever managed by themselves. It always seemed to end with Auntie Uo forcing Uncle Kyo to cook and then smacking him for allegedly trying to poison the both of us. When she actually decided to cook one night, she burned out the frying pan and spend the rest of the night sulked when we teased her. After that we always ordered take-out.
We would often spend the evening watching sappy movies, partly because both Auntie Uo and I loved them but mostly because Uncle Kyo didn't. So she would grab him, transforming him into cat form and force him to watch the movie, cuddled on her lap. He would spend the rest of the movie trying to escape while she held him in a death grip and sobbed into his soft flank. Didn't I tell you she was a great, big crybaby? Just like me, I guess. Half an hour into the movie and we'd both be bawling our eyes out. Kyo would sit there with a look of intense frustration and pretend not to be watching the movie.
If there is one person I look up and, I guess, idolize, it would be my mother. But if there were a second person, then it would Auntie Uo. She has always alternated between teasing the hell out of me and spoiling me rotten, but in many ways she has looked after me more than anyone else has, other than my parents. Like a big sister, she has always watched over me and has been there for me to confide in when I have needed it. It is to her, more than anyone else, that I have confessed the most about how I feel about my curse. Although sometimes I think that I never actually needed to tell her anything in the first place. She always seems to know exactly how I feel. It's amazing really, the way she does it. One moment she'll be chatting aimlessly with me and then all of a sudden she will look at me seriously and say something that completely puts at rest a doubt or fear that has been worrying me all day.
When Mom died, I think that without each other, we might have both gone crazy. My father took Mom's death badly, I think we all did, and while he never ignored me, he became distant and depressed for quite a while. As the reality of our loss gradually dawned on us in a million little fears and sorrows, one of those fears for me was that Arisa and Kyo would stop coming around. That the wheel had ground to a halt now that the hub had disappeared.
But despite my fears, they came around all the more and Auntie Uo and I clung to each other, as we mourned my mother and her dearest friend. Sometimes Auntie Hana would join us and the three of us would pass the time, at first crying for her but later, just remembering and treasuring her.
Around this time Auntie Uo told me something that I will never forget. It was during one of the most difficult nights I had ever spent, wondering if, now that Mom was dead, why shouldn't I die too? Wondering how I could possibly live without her. Besides, I was practically dead anyways. What would it matter? Why was I even born? It hurt so much I almost wanted to forget about her. I remember waking up screaming at several points during the night, as I dug my way out of nightmares that crawled with hideous, formless childish fears.
I remember Auntie Uo, who had stayed over for the last few nights come into room and hold me as I caught my breath. When I finally recovered she patted my head and gave me a gentle almost wistful look.
"You know… relationships are strange things. Sometimes they're not so much about bringing yourself closer to someone than they are about holding yourself back from them."
She smiled at me, that sad, knowing smile she so rarely shows.
"When you meet someone and say 'Hello' to them, it is already a certainty that you will also say 'Goodbye' someday. Everything has a start and an end. Of course… sometimes that end is very painful…"
She paused for a moment, looking both at me and past me at the same time. With her head cocked slightly sideways, that sad, gentle smile on her face, she looked so much like my Mother in that one moment that my heart ground itself painfully against my ribcage.
"But ya know…" She continued, giving me a bright smile that was both terribly and beautifully familiar, "That's no reason not to say 'Hello'. It just makes that 'Hello' so much more important."
I remember feeling numb when she said that. I remember thinking 'How could she possibly have known?' I remember wanting to say something but unable to do so. Unable to do anything but sit, slack-faced as her advice settled in my unresponsive brain.
We sat, silent for a few minutes before she stood up to leave. She picked up her bag and just as I thought she would start to open the door and leave, Arisa circled around behind me and enveloped me in fierce hug.
"That's something your mother once told me." She whispered softly in my ear before turning and slipping out the door.
I don't know why but I waited until she had closed it again before I started crying.
Strangely enough, it was in this period that father and Uncle Kyo finally became friends; in their grief they seemed to forget the last vestiges of their rivalry and clung to each other in their attempts to survive. As much as I love the two of the two of them, I cannot help but feel a terrible anger when I think of how it took my mothers death to allow the so solve their stupid squabbles. It still troubles me sometimes, when I think of that stupid, tragic stubbornness, that Mom never got to see the resolution she had worked so hard to help create. Although, I am certain that had she lived, they would have become friends eventually, I know this yet… dammit, it still hurts.
I am finding it hard to write now. I am beginning to feel queasy. My insides squirm within me, twisting and writhing so painfully sometimes that I am forced to hold onto the desk in front of me and clench my teeth until they settle.
I want to live. I don't want to leave these people that I love so much. I'm weak, I know that. The head of Sohma House should not carry such fear in her heart. But I can't help it. I don't want to die. There is so much I was never able to do.
I guess when I started this I had no idea what I would say. I didn't even know how to begin. It's getting light now. I've been writing for hours. There is so little time left and so much to say. I know I will not have time to write it all.
I feel silly, writing down other peoples love lives, Kumi Sohma who could never have one of her own. Am I jealous? I must be. What else can I say? I am already dead, have been dead all my life. How could I drag someone down with me? How could I possibly ask anyone to love me when I knew I would not live past this day?
And now I am crying again. Tears are written into my very existence it seems. I don't want to cry. I don't want to be this weak. Why do I have to die alone? It's a stupid question I guess. Because I don't want to die in front of them, my family. Because I don't want them to be any sadder than they already will be.
I haven't said goodbye to them but it doesn't matter. There is no time anyway. I am sorry, my friends, my family. Let me leave this way. Let me be as strong as I can. If I had to say goodbye, I don't think I could stand it.
Is one more day too much to ask? One more week, one more year.
One more lifetime.
I want to live.
Mom is smiling beside me, from behind the frame on my bedside table. Wherever she is now, is she still smiling? Will she come to meet me, with that kind, welcoming expression I remember so well?
I want to meet her again. If there is any justice, please let me meet her.
I have to return her ribbons after all.
I don't know what illness I have. I don't know if it is even recorded in any other medical books aside from those in my family. I guess, when it comes down to it, I have never had the courage to ask Hatori, my doctor, what it is. He on the other hand has never taken it upon himself to tell me. The old man remains silent in my presence as if he is afraid to come close. I wonder sometimes what it is that keeps him from me. It is not a cruel reason, of that I am sure. I have rarely received such tenderness as he shows me when ministering to me in my most painful moments from anyone else. His calm, measured voice is a great sense of comfort to me sometimes. I know that in his life he has undergone much tragedy, few of the cursed Sohma's are able to escape the web of disaster that is our curse, but I am unsure of the details. I have often wished that he would tell me more about himself. I think that if he did open up then we would find much in common. But he never does, his visits are spent examining and inquiring and warning, always with that serious and gentle half-smile of his. After he is satisfied, he leaves and does not return until the next day, unless something goes wrong.
Something about the way he looks at me makes me wonder if it is perhaps painful for him to look at me. But that doesn't make sense; perhaps rather it could be that it is painful for him to be close to me. Many nights he has come into my room when he thought that I was asleep and spent a lonely hour just watching me. I never let him know that I was awake. I just watched him, from his reflection in the glass of the photo frame by my bed. Sometimes he wouldn't stay long and just watched quietly. I used to think it was part of his duty as a doctor, looking perhaps for certain symptoms of a disease. But one night after remaining motionless for almost two hours, he rose to leave and in the light of the moon, floating in gently through the window, I caught the sharp glimmer of the tears streaming down his face and I wondered if perhaps in his own cold way he cares for me as much as anyone else.
I have always been sick, you see. It's a part of the curse. There have been times when I have felt so sick I have thought that maybe dying would be preferable, if the pain will go away. I often become so weak that I can hardly move, lying on my bed, helpless as a newborn kitten while my insides twist themselves into increasingly complex knots of pain. Other times, I feel numb and drugged, as if the nerves of my body had suddenly overloaded and shut down, leaving me to feel as though I made of clay. Often I have done quite serious injury to myself while in this state, fracturing my toes or knees, and not becoming aware of the problem until hours later when the pain of the overtaxed appendages screams its pain on the organ of my body. The worst I think, is the headaches. They come suddenly and overpoweringly, smashing themselves inside my head and sifting down through my brain like shards of glass, while I am forced to sit still, so overcome with pain that I cannot even scream out, my arms cradling my head and holding it still, any movements making the agony worse.
Now days, when that happens I take out the ribbons my Mother once gave me and tie them in my hair. It is my own little ritual and while it does not take away the pain, it makes it so much more bearable as I lie there and wonder that perhaps it is all worth it. If perhaps, I am not so unlucky as I sometime believe.
I guess this one memory is what I have spent the entire time gearing myself up to be able to write down. All of my memories are precious to me but this one goes beyond such things. I guess I simply have no word for how important it is to me. It goes far beyond words and pales beside my simple descriptions. I can only tell it to you the best I can and hope that you may understand, if only a little, what my mother meant to me.
Mom gave me her ribbons about a month before she died. It was on my ninth birthday. I was very sick at the time, lying on my bed delirious from the pain when she came into my room as she so often did. She sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, next to me and smiled down at me, some impossible goddess radiating kindness and comfort. My father entered and stood next to her. She helped me arrange my covers and moved gently to kiss my cheek. I tried to smile back but I don't think I was too successful. It didn't faze her however and she lifted her hands to her temples, undid the yellow ribbons that were tied there and arranged them carefully in my own hair.
"You look very beautiful, Kumi." She said softly, smiling all the while. "Here, these are my present to you. They are very special. Your father gave them to me once. They are his love and because I have often worn them, they are my love as well. Now, they are yours and I hope they will be your love also."
My parents smiled softly down at me as I watched them, through a haze of pain and felt, nevertheless, more love for those two people than I had ever felt before.
"I love you Mom." I husked, doing my best and wondering how all this love could possibly exist inside me at the same time as all the pain.
"I love you too, Kumi." Mom stroked my cheek softy. "And now these ribbons are all of our love." Her eyes sparkled and I suddenly realized how much it was hurting her to see me like this. How hard she was trying to be strong for me so that she could give me the comfort that she needed herself so badly.
I watched as my parents moved to kneel by my bed and at the sight of their gentle faces I could feel my tears building up. I felt like a traitor as they escaped down my cheeks and wet my pillow. I couldn't help it, there were so many things I wanted to say, to tell them, but I didn't know how. So I smiled as best I could and squeezed their hands.
"Mom, Dad. I love you so much." I whispered. I wanted to be strong, strong before them so they wouldn't worry. I wanted to make them happy. I wanted to show them how much I loved them. But the tears were too tiring, and not long after I fell asleep, carrying the warmth of their hands into my dreams.
I've just realized that I have told you practically nothing about myself. I think that maybe I was lying when I told you that that was my purpose. I think that what I really wanted was to tell you about was my family because those are the people I love and they are also the people who have made me who I am. Most of all, they are the people who I want to be remembered. That even though it may perhaps all seem so trivial, I believe that they have accomplished great things in their lives and if nothing else they have made me happy. Happier than I ever imagined was possible for someone like me. I suppose I have rambled here and there as my thoughts crystallize in their jumbled fashion. Some of what I have written has been sad and some has been happy. Life is like that I guess, but I think that those sad times are good for us. They make the happy times so much better. And sometimes they make things that weren't very happy at the time into wonderful memories.
It's strange what imminent death does to your perception. It's quite a surreal experience. It's almost numbing. Not from a lack of feelings but from simply too many that your mind just overloads with them. I feel alternatively hot and cold, sweating and shivering. I feel afraid and yet curious, sad and happy. I can't really explain it at all. But the most important thing I feel is love. I love them all, all my family, my friends. They are all so precious to me. They stand out in my mind, each one of them, vivid and colorful, suddenly more important to me than ever before. I want to talk to them, tell them how I feel but I know that I never could. The images would be simply too much for words, the words too much for my mouth to speak.
I want to live. I want to love them forever the way I love them now. I want to be with them.
There not much time left. It's already 11 o'clock. Less than 20 minutes.
I have to leave now. I think I will go and sit by my window and look out at the morning. I will take this book and I will wear the ribbons that were the last gift my mother gave me and I will look out the window. I hope that I will see her.
I love her.
I love you all.
I am so happy to be alive.
Love,
Kumi Sohma
The End
Whew.
What to say about this one? Well… it really was the most beautiful story to write.
This is based only on the Anime. I haven't read enough of the manga to confidently include any of the other characters like Rin or Kureno, so sorry to all the manga fans out there ;p
BTW: What did you guys think of Uo and Kyo? Cute huh? ;D
Well… anyways… a great big hug for LinBean who edited this for me and who more importantly encouraged me to actually finish it. The idea for this story has been in my mind for a long time, but sometimes I need a big smack on the back of the head to get it out ;p So thank her that it appears here in all its…err…glory (blush).
Anyways, folks, hope you enjoyed the ride, and as always, help me inflate my ego by telling me what you think ;p
Ja,
Cheshire Grin ;D