A/N: Written for the Random Prompt Challenge on the Fruits Basket Fanfiction Challenges Forum (the link's in my profile if you're interested :D). The random prompt is "infandous", meaning too repulsive to express. And somehow, this AU-ish scene cropped up.
Pitiable
She pities him. He can see it in her eyes, when she gently guides his wrists in teaching him how to cook, when she politely listens to him when he gives explanations too dry and disconnected to understand, when she's tenderly mopping his face from a fever or his wrists as they bled nothing but almost-clear fluid.
He's been wrung too dry to bleed blood; it is no wonder she pities him. And that is all she can ever do, he knows. She can care for him; she can play the nurse and the mother and the ditsy older sister all at once, but that is all. Because he is so pitiable; because she pities him so. Because he tried and tried and tried to bleed to live and still can't do it. Because he always caused trouble for her but she just smiles and takes it all.
She's wrapped his hand again, not like he did: bandage unravelling within seconds and useless, but nice and firm and not-too-tight – because he hates it when it was too tight. It made him feel claustrophobic – and he hates feeling claustrophobic. He doesn't hate her though: she pities him, and that was what he hates. Because she pities him, he can never say he loves her. Because she is so much better than he, he can't even think it. He is the broken doll that can't be mended; she is the girl who repairs it anyway.
She plants a soft kiss on the bandage and smiles brightly at him. The healing smile. The smile that makes his eyes shine with his tears and his lips twitch up despite himself. It makes him want to speak, want to say something – but then he meets her eyes and he can say nothing at all.