Blood Splattered Fairytale
Akito believed in fairytales. She believed in happy endings and witches and monsters. In mermaids who died for sailors, of men who's words were as harsh as their fists. Akito believed in dark stories, of Snow White who died from the poisoned apple, of Sleeping Beauty who never woke.
Akito was never sure who was the beast or the princess or the forsaken lover.
And when happy endings were unclear, and the story they lived in was blurred, Akito had her moments when she wondered, did she write the story, or was she just playing God, writing on old paper with a broken pen?
She played with voodoo dolls in her corner, hidden in her closet with pins and needles and dolls that bled. What she wrote was law, what she did was definite, and it didn't matter if they tried to escape her because voodoo dolls didn't move, and neither would her toys as she looked down at them and watched them, frozen in fear, burn and bleed and scream silently, pleas falling on ears that were not deaf, but uncaring.
Akito was a wistful young woman who knew, knew, knew that if good triumphed, then how many people would there be left to love her and worship her and lie behind her back?
Because the good people, the knights of her castle were never there, and who was good? The beggars and thieves had overrun her castle, and all the armor-clad heroes were gone far away, in some other girls imagination. They lied to her and said they loved her. And harsh words were whispered behind her back, she wasn't deaf or blind or dumb, and she knew how much they hated her.
This was a fairytale, and all that evil needed to be punished, because they lied and disobeyed and refused to break with her urging. She would laugh and she would cry when they finally did, turning to sea foam on the sea because they had wasted their lives away on an unattainable, untouchable goal to be free. To not break at her command.
And Akito couldn't let that happen, because she could only let the good live, it was her reason to live. To keep others in line. The Sohma were cursed for a reason- They were evil, and even Akito agreed that she, herself, was evil, just as they said quietly when they thought she couldn't hear.
'Things would end happily,' she told herself, 'Because God was going to wipe away all the villains.'
Akito knew what they thought and said, because Akito was a writer, a puppeteer, a God, and only she knew what was right.
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A/N: My first Fruits Basket one-shot. Because Akito's cool. Tell me what you think, feel free to flame me, criticize me. I'd just like to know that this drabble-y thing isn't invisible.
I only just started Fruits Basket, so tell me if something I typed contradicts something in the manga. Even though it's more mental musings.