A/N Hola! So, here's Chapter II. I love Yuki/Machi, and I kind of wish that I could have given them a better chapter, but this is what came out, so deal with it. Review, if you liked it, hated it, whatever- 20 seconds of your time could give me hours of inspiration! Do NOT be afraid to criticize! I suppose that flames are accepted, so cheers. Feel free to request!
Thanks to... Xx-Synthetic-Cyanide-xX & Rain7427
Disclaimer I don't own Fruits Basket or any associated characters, events, etc.
II. BLUEBERRIES & PLUMS
"I don't want to!" Machi Kuragi wailed .
Yuki Sohma sighed and stared over his girlfriend's shoulder at the school festival photo booth. Things didn't have to be this complicated. Ayame had taken it upon himself to arrange this photo shoot, and had fashioned it with his usual oddity- Yuki and Machi were supposed to dress up as a medieval prince and princess and have their photo taken, probably to afterwards be distributed to the entire Sohma family and perhaps the whole of Japan. Unfortunately, the visiting Motoko Minagawa had insisted, presumably out of jealousy, that the picture was to be of the prince killing the princess. The photographer thought this too vulgar and proposed that instead Machi be dressed as a dragon for Yuki to slay. That was as far as they'd gotten.
Machi hated it all.
"Machi," Yuki tried, "please, just humor them. It's just one shoot. I'll take you to dinner afterwards. Get us out of this mess." It was, indeed, a mess; crushed popcorn practically carpeted the ground, and there were heat, color, and voices everywhere.
"But it's not right! I'm tired of them calling you a prince, and I don't want to be a stupid dead dragon."
"But Nii-san and Minagawa-san-" he pleaded.
"I don't want to!"
"Okay. Okay." Yuki took a deep breath, trying to block out the cacophony around him and sooth his pulsing headache. "In that case, let's say...how about you're the prince?"
Machi's eyes widened in surprise, then the frown resettled. "Better than the other idea, I guess, but..."
"We'll be gone before Ayame can even get his eyes on the prints," Yuki promised in relief, squeezing Machi's shoulder and turning to the photo booth.
In the end, neither Aaya nor Motoko was pleased whatsoever, but the other Sohmas had a good laugh over the image of the surly, long-haired prince stiffly holding a sword over the gorgeous, pristine dragon. Machi laughed, too, in the end, and for Yuki, that made it all worthwhile.
