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Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket.
Happy New Year everyone!
Hatori was the only outsider to have entered the room. It had been more than two years and he approached tentatively. Immediately upon sliding open the door he saw his worst fears had been justified. Yuki was huddled in a corner. His wide eyes warily appraised Hatori as he entered, fingers digging into his bony knees. Hatori sighed sadly and slowly walked towards him. Yuki seemed to relax slightly, apparently registering that Hatori was unaccompanied, the tension visibly ebbing from his body.
"Yuki. How are you feeling?" Hatori spoke gently, his voice laced with sadness and concern.
Yuki looked up at him with eyes which were too old and too weary. He didn't answer. Hatori swallowed grimly. All he could see when he looked at Yuki now was the poor little boy abandoned by his mother and abused by his God so many years ago. Yuki's silence and timidity concerned him; when quiet he was hurting most deeply. With a heavy heart Hatori began to examine Yuki's wounds, knowing the true damage could never be seen nor treated so easily.
Yuki returned home in silence. Hatori had carefully treated his cuts and given him painkillers and anti-inflammatory tablets. What he had not been able to provide was the comfort Yuki so desperately craved. He felt vulnerable, fragile. Used to being composed and collected, the abrupt return to his previous life left him shaken up in ways he didn't understand. As the sleek car wound its way through the streets Yuki gazed out the blackened windows at the passing people. He saw flashes of their lives, mere glimpses; the child unwrapping her lollipop, the man waiting patiently for his dog, the woman with the bright smile buying fruit. He felt a detachment from these people, as though he could never belong in their world. The protective walls began building in his mind; his thoughts and secrets, truths and feelings, deeply confined. By the time the car pulled up at Shigure's house his eyes were dry and his smile almost genuine.
The first day back was the hardest. Tohru's excitement and warmth was almost contagious and even Kyo didn't annoy him as much as usual. Shigure, who had some inclination of the truth of Yuki's relationship with Akito, was gentle with him but didn't press for any details. Yuki found himself smiling a lot as he joined in and spent time with the others: cooking and cleaning with Tohru and arguing with Kyo.
That evening he wandered to his vegetable garden. Now finally he was able to surrender to his feelings. The smile disappeared from his face, replaced by a curiously blank mask. He knelt down, clutching handfuls of earth and thinking of flames and Gods and friends. He was pleased and grateful to be here, to be able to return to his friends, his garden. He clenched the dirt tightly in his fists, wishing he could belong somewhere, envying the plants the strong roots which grounded them. Night had fallen by the time he stood up. Leaving the garden was difficult, but he recognised he could not stay there. He must sleep, get warm, be happy. He must survive. He absentmindedly made his way home, gazing at the pinpricks of light the stars made in the vast dark sky.
He lay in bed that night, wide-eyed, wishing sleep would claim him. Vaguely he was aware of the uncomfortable itching of his back as his cuts slowly healed. His bed was warm and comfortable, he could feel that, but simultaneously he was aware of a mounting coldness spreading throughout his chest. He felt very alone.
Returning to school was a welcome distraction. Yuki tried to listen attentively in all his classes and sustain his regular level of socialising elsewhere. Groups of girls still seemed to fawn over him unfathomably. He overheard a few gossiping that he had been studying diligently over the holidays. At this, a cruel, bitter pain twisted his gut. They knew nothing. They adored him despite knowing almost nothing about him. He swallowed down his anger and continued being polite, courteous and quiet towards them. His injuries from Akito's punishment caused him some minor discomfort at school; it seemed the tablets from Hatori were working. Once however, he stretched slightly and felt a searing pain as one wound tore open again. He ignored the burning pain and the shameful tears in his eyes, and continued his conversation.
Aside from classes and other students, his return to school meant Yuki was reunited with Hatsuharu and Momiji. Kyo, Tohru and him met them at lunch on their first day back. Yuki found this meeting very relaxing and pleasant. Momiji excitedly doted over Tohru for the majority of the time. Kyo and Haru had a few terse words, but overall Yuki found the group very companionable. Haru seemed to understand, Yuki observed. He had never confided in Haru, or anyone, about the years he had spent with Akito. Yet Haru seemed to know. The look he gave Yuki was serious yet soft and seemed to cut right through the mundane banality of the cafeteria to ask Yuki if he was alright. Yuki answered with a forced smile and could tell Haru noticed the cracks in it.
Having a steady stream of homework to complete provided Yuki with a much needed outlet. He filled his evenings up, keeping his mind busy. He worked through the assigned homework, helped prepare dinner, talked with Shigure, watched television. Sometimes he provoked Kyo so he could vent some of his frustration in a sparring match. He completed extra work, tended to his vegetable garden and read well into the night. He worked until he was mentally exhausted. It was preferable to the alternative: lying awake for hours, dark thoughts swirling like mist and the coldness creeping through his body. He fell exhausted and immediately into uneasy sleep in the early hours, then dragged himself from bed the next morning for another full day.
This routine he implemented fairly successfully, for a week. Then Friday dawned, cool and crisp, and it was time to return to Akito.
Sorry this chapter is a bit ity-bity and broken up!