Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.


I've always been alone.

The thing about cold people is that they aren't really there, not as company. So even when I was surrounded by people, I was alone. Whether it was my mother with the highest of expectations but no love to give, or my family who stayed away because I was set apart, or my god who cared for me but had no warmth, I was always alone.

After a while, I grew used to it. I began to think that this was what I deserved. It was because of this curse that I had, this privilege, this separation, but it was also because I wasn't good enough. I was boring. Perfect. Special. Flawed. Worthless. The paradox of flattering words and unforgiving actions surrounded me throughout my childhood, until there was nothing left of my self-confidence - if there was any to begin with. I knew I was worthless. I knew I was a symbol, meant to be admired, meant to be scorned, meant to be resented. A privilege.

But even more than cursed, I was weak. I couldn't blame all of my worthlessness on the curse - that was irresponsible. I was a boring, unlikable, selfish person. I couldn't accept my place in the cage. So I ran away. I ran away from that house, that family, deluded into thinking that I had escaped my god. I hadn't; I had just moved to somewhere where it was more obvious how caged I was. A black dot in a sea of black is unidentifiable, but a black dot among a pristine white canvas sticks out like a sore thumb.

"I" was liked out here, on the outskirts of the cage. They saw "me" as flawless, perfect, beautiful. But that "me" wasn't real. It was another face, a fake, another reminder of my weakness. I couldn't even accept that hatred honestly; I had to be loved. I wanted love more than honesty, but couldn't even be satisfied with that. I wanted to be pure, too, and that was why I could never show them my real face. I was filthy, impure, imperfect, and they could never know.

I had spent years building up this "me." I was sure that no one would see through it. I met her, the outsider, the girl beyond the cage. She possessed the keys, but not the one to my prison. I thought that she would save me, but I was too scared to get close to her. I was too scared to let this pure person see how filthy I was. So "I" gave her the same smile. Gradually, "I" began to crumble, just a bit - experiment, just a bit, with the real me - but only the good sides. A true smile, a cool moment. I wouldn't show her the indecision - oh, no, not the indecision. I was so weak, I wouldn't ask for freedom. I remained well within the cage, so she couldn't see me. I watched as the other animal, the filthiest of us all, left, and I was still alone.

It was funny when it happened. I had gotten braver - or stupider, I could never really tell. I had tried to step into this other world, tried to touch the bars of the cage, feel the wind outside. All I wanted was to feel the wind; who knew that I would touch the ground, walk the earth, smell the flowers of this world, too? Who knew I would leave the cage?

It all started with you. I had begun to stretch the limits, took up this position in the spotlight. I had no idea I would meet you; when I did, you were hardly impressive. Shortly afterwards, I found that I hated you. Loathed you. A loathing I hadn't experienced for anyone outside of the cage before. Feeling something genuine and strong, outside of the cage... that might have been the first step.

But I didn't notice until it was too late to go back. You caught me off-guard with your smile, caught me off-guard with your honesty. You were self-deprecating, but confident, at the same time. I'd try to distance myself and you'd reel me in. I couldn't get you out of my mind, and it began to scare me. I was scared of the outside world, but I... couldn't leave it.

She noticed when I began to leave it. She noticed, and was sad. She cared, though, and so cheered me on. At that moment, in that smile, she knew she had lost me, and I realized that I had never loved her. And still your face was in my mind.

Over time, I only got dragged out further. My heels may have been dug in the ground, my entire body straining against the force, but at the end of my outstretched arm, you would always be. Your solid grip, your blinding smile, your wise stupidity and clumsy grace. I had never opened up to nosy people; I had never opened up to her, a mother figure. But you, with your straight-forward nature and crazy nonsense, had me laid out for your eyes only. The only one I had ever told myself was you.

And you accepted it. You just smiled that healing smile - so unlike hers - and forgave me. You, unlike her, were no saint. You had made mistakes, you had done horrible things, you still carried with you scars. But you were confident; my rock. I must still be terribly arrogant, because I like to hope that I might have done something for you, too. But that's a vain wish. You saved me when no other could.

I had tried to push you away. I had tried being scathing, tried being mature, tried being childish, yet all the way through, you would keep me hooked. If I were scathing, you'd laugh it off with that endless stupidity. If I were mature, you'd tease me for my serious nature with that carefree style you have. If I were childish, you'd respond equally so, with all of you that made me question whether you really were as bright as people said you were.

But there's no question now that you meant it all. You picked me up, you dusted me off, and you showed me off. You didn't make me perfect; you didn't polish me like a trophy. You let me keep all of my dents and blemishes, and showed them to the world as if challenging anyone to really argue. But even all of that wasn't enough kindness for you. You had to do something even kinder.

You had someone dear to you. I knew that; you had introduced us. It hadn't meant much to me at the time, since I was more focused on this closeness we had developed... but the smiles you gave this person and the smiles you gave me were entirely different. I could see that every moment with this person was a reminder to you of the dark past you had, the one you had told me about. Your love was undoubtable, but together, you two would never fully heal. The almost intangible tension between you two, so similar to and yet so different from ours, was uncomfortable. You were like friends, not like lovers. And maybe some part of me figured it out then.

I had always been selfish. Ever since the beginning. I had been weak back then, and I still was when the time came. I didn't want to face the obvious, didn't want to face that life. With the cage hanging over me still, there was another person that resonated with that... one that we both knew. And I found that this one was one that felt the same way for me, someone I could be there for, someone I could prop up for a change. And maybe it was that feeling of strength that led me to do it.

I had something with her, that's for sure. This girl meant something to me, but it was never quite the same. Sometimes, I would look back at your smile and compare it to hers. Hers was almost never there, making every one priceless. Yours were always present, but somehow, you made every one of those mean something in and of itself. I'll never know how you did that. My relationship with her has very few smiles, and even less genuine ones. It's a tension that never disappears, a harmful one, unlike what we had.

So why'd you do it? I'll sometimes look back on that, even when I'm up to the forehead in reports and textbooks and papers. I'll tell myself that it was all your kindness, but then the sting of guilt spreads through my chest. Because the one thing I never conquered was my weakness. I ran to her because I didn't have to face it then - didn't have to face you. I didn't have to realize something important. You picked me up, dusted me off, made me happier than I had ever been...

And then set me free.

Because that was what I had always wanted, hadn't it been? You knew that, and you were kind. So all of those brilliant smiles and those teasing moments and that lack of personal space... you stopped all that once I had laid my eyes on her. You understood. And I know that you wouldn't want me regretting the past again, but I wish that I could apologize to you. It doesn't seem right to know, something's changed since my relationship with her became official. But if I could go back in time, I wish I could stop myself from running away.

I didn't want to be free of you. You weren't suffocating, you weren't cold, you weren't superficial. You knew me. She didn't know me - she knew the insecure, pathetic, weak me that I hid. The one before her, that outsider - she only knew the perfect me. You knew the one who was in between, the me who still struggles to conquer the self-loathing and regret. You didn't just save me from despair, you taught me how to care. That was something that she could never do, and never will. And the fact that I'd give you up, thinking she was better, living in this false world... just goes to show how weak and selfish I am. My largest flaw has always been that I wasn't satisfied with what I had. I left the cage because I couldn't remain a symbol. And I left you because...

because...

because...what? What was I looking for? What was I expecting to find? Nothing, nothing at all.

So what was I running away from? The only answer is you. Please don't set me free. I want to see those smiles reserved just for me, hear those jokes that you make at such the wrong times, feel your hand on my shoulder just because you don't understand personal space. I want to watch you innocently misunderstand again, watch you less-innocently twist my words again. Feel the warmth and security and the honesty that I never had, never could have with another. She is so cold, so distant, just what the weak me was accustomed to, just what the strong me could handle. But you were a challenge. You were so much more than her. And because you were kind, because you knew me,

you set me free

and I have lost you.


That...came out noticeably more angsty than I had anticipated. The speaker is Yuki (as I'm sure you figured out) and the 'you' is Kakeru. I always felt like Yuki walked a fine line between being whiny and sympathetic, character-wise, but because he only ever talked about his angst in his head most of the time, I thought it was more bearable than him going around telling everyone his sob story. That's why I liked Yuki: he never saw that he was strong, even though he really was for shouldering his burden like that. And he did help Kakeru, too, he just didn't notice. Anyway, reviews welcome; even if all you want to say is that Yuki was out of character or too whiny, I still greatly appreciate the feedback.