Love?

Kyo Sohma did not believe in love. He did not hold with such idiocy. Love was a fairytale. A stupid child's book with colorful pictures distracting from the lies. Nothing more; of this fact he was certain.

No one had ever loved him. He was the cat. He was the outcast. He was the monster. Everyone around him spoke of love; his mother especially. She had never loved him, she just knew she was supposed to. The thought of his mother brought a flash of red pain to his eyes; who could blame her really? After a while he realized that no one could love him.

Kagura? Kagura was annoying as hell and knew nothing about him. Whatever reasons she profused her undenying love was beyond him. He didn't want her, didn't need her. He didn't need anyone. He would take care of his damn self; his damned self.

He remembered the first time he went to school. He wanted everyone to get the hell away from him. But girls kept giggling and talking to him and guys seemed to want to talk. He was a loner. Why the hell did everyone keep talking to him? It was the first time in a very long time that he had felt any sort of acceptance from anyone. He thought he understood what the rat felt everyday. He scowled, Yuki didn't know what he had. And for a while he was...happy.

But then the world shifted back to reality and he realized that it was all a lie.

Would they have accepted him if they knew who he really was? What he really was? Of course not. They wouldn't come near him. He'd feel their eyes on his back as he walked; the weight of it crushing, destroying any faith he might still have inside. Kyo was proud, alone, and angry. That was the only way he knew. He knew to spit in the faces of those who abused him, and kick the ass of anyone who tried to force their hate, or their so-called love, upon him. He hated the spite as he hated the pity.

Pity.

Pity was a weak emotion that made others feel better about themselves. Kyo wanted no false caring, no false sympathy. Perhaps that's why he was so damn scared of her.

Tohru Honda.

She was always smiling. Always. And yet, it was never fake, never false. Every joy was like the first joy; every pain was a stepping stone. She was always learning, always watching, always fucking caring about everyone. Him, too. She turned his world on it's head. She wanted to know the things he liked, the things he disliked. She made him so mad but for once he knew it was his fault; not hers. Nothing she could do would ever deserve his anger.

Which pissed him off more.

He couldn't explain it but he rebelled against her kindness. Every ginger touch made his face go scarlet and his nerves jump. She set him on fire. His body knew this and it was a warming flame, but his mind told him it was scalding. And even so, he was seeking her warmth, her smile, and his reign on his unprovoked anger was tightening. It scared him. This feeling. It was awful and wonderful at the same time. He hated her...but maybe that was the problem. It had been so long since he had felt loved...so long since he could remember what it was even. But when he looked at her, smiling at him, he felt something confusing he couldn't describe.

Well, damn it all, put him in a fairytale.