So here we have it. I started this three days ago, was almost done, when my gmail (I was writing it as an email) decided to randomly reload, and I lost 2/3ds of it. Talk about rotten luck. The ending may be taken to mean whatever you wish, friendship or romance, also... if I get requests for it, I may continue this, but only if I get requests! Or a wild hair... Also, this is based more off the anime, although I have read the manga. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, reviews are sweet!


All in all, he really was pretty simple. He didn't mind being called simple, unless it was intended to be an insult, which sadly was usually the case.

He knew, when Yuki had told him all those years ago that he wasn't stupid, that he wasn't a fool, that it was true. It was all he wanted then, really, was someone to understand that. He didn't want anyone else to make excuses for the people hurting him, what he wanted, when he snapped, when he lost control, when he was hurt, all he wanted was someone to look at him and understand that no matter what was meant jokingly or not, he wasn't stupid.

Whether they meant it or not, his classmates, his parents, his family, no matter how they meant the words (read: razor blades) they threw at him, it wasn't true. He had been looking for it without even realizing it. And without meaning to, he found it.

With finding what he wanted, he came to realize that there was one other thing he wanted. One other thing he needed. He would never be first, or greatest. He knew this, and accepted it as an unchangeable truth. He would still try to beat Kyo in a fight, but he knew he would never surpass Yuki.

Those two, Kyo and Yuki, always seemed to be ahead of him. Kyo fueled by hate, Yuki, surpassing them both without effort. Whether it was some limit or status imposed by the curse, or simply his own natural limit of potential, it didn't really matter. That was OK with him, fine really, he might try to beat Kyo, he wasn't giving up on it, but he felt no need to surpass Yuki.

He didn't want to be first, or greatest. It felt empty to him, he knew being put on a pedestal as "best" was a cold place to be. He didn't need to be put there to know, he had to only look at Yuki. Or even... Akito. But, really, there's no need to go thinking of that now.

There was really only one thing he really wanted. Needed. He needed to be needed. He wanted to feel needed. Craved it. Got by on it. His escape. He wondered, sometimes, if it wasn't a wee bit selfish. He had heard people say that he was so selfless, didn't they see his Black side? That part of him was just as real, just as much him, as the White side. Yes, he wondered about it sometimes, when he was left alone, and didn't have at least two of his cousins crawling, bawling, brawling, screaming, ranting, or apologising around him, although he didn't really feel guilty about it, if maybe he really was selfish... but then, that was another thing he wondered about.

They drove each other crazy, his family. Not that they disliked (well... most of them got along fairly well) each other, but their personalities... clashed, shall we say? Of course, it's no real mystery: if you're being driven crazy, you can't think. He couldn't help but wonder if Hatori weren't left alone so much... . And it was always worse for those living at the main house. For the cursed ones, more than anything, silence... now, really though, that's very much off topic.

Just to be needed. It was simple, really, he did sometimes think of himself as simple, sometimes, then there were times when he wondered if anyone had ever given him more trouble than he had given himself.

So when sweet, adorable little Kisa had taken all she could, of being ridiculed, mocked, insulted, ignored... and hated, because she didn't look quite right, (read: she didn't look like everyone else) when she had almost been broken too much, when she ran away, after she had stopped speaking, he looked for her. It didn't matter then, that it was raining, nothing mattered, except finding her. Honestly, he hadn't been aware of the rain until he found her, and saw that she was soaking wet. Because seeing the girl he loved like the sister he'd never get so ready to quit, at 12 years old... made him struggle to remember that the people who had hurt her were mostly only children themselves, so he shouldn't make them... anyway, why are we getting off topic again?

Or Momiji, in the moments when his cheerfulness broke, when he let himself think on things, when he just needed to know that his hyper adorable (and also exhausting) self wasn't a monster that ought to be forgotten, he could be there. He would be there. In the moments that Kyo needed a release for his anger and couldn't find Yuki, he would be there then, too (although granted, that one hurt physically).

Yes, he liked being needed. No, he didn't want anyone to be unable to survive without him, he wanted, (and it was simple, really) he wanted to make things better for the people he loved. That wasn't so bad, was it? Even if the people he loved were themselves unaware of his help. It didn't matter to him, whether or not they noticed. It didn't matter, if they didn't love him back. Although, it was nice... but what mattered most, was that they could have moments of happiness. He knew, as a Juunishi, happiness wasn't something that came easily for any of them. For some of them, it never came at all.

He didn't want to first, or greatest.

"You poor, poor fool. Neh....it's really just like the story, isn't it?"

"Pardon?"

"Simple, and... deluded. You think that they even care if you try? Do you think you can really make a difference? My poor, foolish Ox, it doesn't matter.
You're such a tool."

"Even now... they're not beyond help, and I would appreciate it if you didn't call me that, Akito-san."

"Fool," not a sneer, this time, he spoke the word with more venom than usual before continuing, "you can't save them... and you won't save him."

Him. Him, of course, meant Yuki. Yuki was... different. Of course, there were a thousand words he could use to describe Yuki, he could talk for hours about Yuki... he could think and dream about Yuki for forever.

But that isn't what is meant by "different" here, what is meant by different is that saving Yuki wasn't like saving anyone else. Because while it felt, really, like he was trying to pull his other cousins from the water, struggling, it was as if Yuki had already drowned. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought. He wanted to think, no, not think, he knew Yuki was getting better. He had to be getting better.

Because, really, he was drowning again, instead of already gone. That was better, wasn't it? The days, the long unbearably weary days when Yuki hadn't spoken, or smiled, or really given any sign that he was even alive any more had passed, into another corpse like state, that Kyo had once mocked, saying that he sometimes wanted to prick Yuki to see if his blood was still running. The state that he had been before Honda-san came to be with them.

It hurt, a little, that he wasn't the one to pull Yuki out of that state, he couldn't bear the girl any blame though, on the contrary, he loved her for it, and he couldn't blame Yuki for falling in love with her. He supposed that in their own different ways, all the Sohmas were probably in love with the sweet girl. And as he walked now down the school corridor with their small group, watching Yuki adore Honda-san, he pretended not to feel the slight pang in his heart. The problem came in that Yuki still hadn't been saved. He'd been pulled closer to the surface, but that was just it: he was still struggling. He smiled softly at the Mouse, albeit a bit sadly, before trying to tune into the argument between the Yanki and Kyo.

"I don't know why you get so annoyed about the Prince's fan girls, Orange-top, since you're so caught up with him yourself."

"Like hell!" Kyo spat. "I want to beat his sorry stuck-up ass into the ground, not carry his babies!"

"Uh-huh."

"WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO START SOMETHING? YOU WANNA FIGHT, HUH?"

" 'Wanna', is not a word, Orange-top." Haru startled slightly at the gentle voice that cut into the argument that he had been using to (read: attempting to) distract himself from the owner of said voice. Granted, it was a little harsher sounding here, as Yuki was speaking to Kyo.

With a sigh, Yuki slowed down as Kyo and the Yanki began their argument again. Honda-san and Momiji continued along, chattering cheerfully as though oblivious to the yelling, leaving Haru and Yuki further behind than the rest of their group. With a slight sigh he didn't completely acknowledge, Haru reached out to take hold of the side of Yuki's shirt. Had he turned his head to look at Yuki a second later, he would have missed the odd look he was getting.

"Haru?"

"Yes, Yuki?"

"Are you..." he watched Yuki trail off, uncertain of how to word whatever he was trying to say. "Are you okay, Haru?" Haru couldn't help the look of surprise on his face, Yuki was very perceptive when he choose to be, but he usually wasn't unless it was brought on by suspicion. He couldn't help but smile wryly at the thought of Yuki being suspicious of him.

"I'm..." he hesitated. He hated lying in general, and most especially to Yuki, but how could he answer that without making Yuki himself feel guilty?

"Haru." they stopped walking, and faced each other for a moment, Haru was still hanging onto Yuki's shirt, a habit he had picked up over the years. "You know that you can talk to me, right?"

"Of course." He smiled softly. Before a slight wave of sadness hit him. He could always talk to Yuki, Yuki would listen, and it always helped. Why couldn't he do the same? He knew Yuki talked to him, but it seemed to have the odd effect of making Yuki feel self-conscious and pathetic.

"Then... what's wrong?" Yuki pried gently.

"I'm just tired, I think." Certainly, he was tired or Yuki wouldn't have noticed anything off.

"Okay..." He wasn't buying it.

"You know I love you." Typical reaction in three, two-

"Haru, you shouldn't be saying that to me." Yuki responded, slightly flustered. It doesn't matter though, he thought, as long as you know it's true.

"But Yuki, I do love you." Yuki merely sighed, and they began walking again. He didn't have to be loved. He didn't have to be anyone's greatest, or best anything, what he wanted, no, needed, really, was to be needed. More would have been nice, but he could survive on being merely helpful. It was all he was asking. And as he walked down the hall with his best friend, all he would ask, if he found the courage to put it into words, was to be needed by him.