So first of all thank you so much to The Character's Death, XxxEmotionalPrincessxxX and 16craftytigers for reviewing every chapter! You're great and it really means so much to me!

Secondly, I still don't own Fruits Basket.


After five weeks of visiting Akito on the weekends, Yuki was exhausted. He hardly slept when he was at the estate, his anxiety constantly bubbling beneath the surface. Akito had not lashed out seriously in several weeks, there had only been mild hitting and kicking which Yuki was well accustomed to. For hours Akito would whisper in his ear, taunting him, belittling him. Yuki grew used to this too, and his mind wrapped itself in its protective blanket of darkness once more.

When he returned to Shigure's house during the week he felt, if possible, even more exhausted. The effort to smile and talk and try to eat with the others drained him. At school he struggled completely. Focusing in class was becoming that much harder as he trudged through his days on only a few hours sleep, attempting to ignore the face from his nightmares which now leeched through in his waking hours. When he walked down the corridors he felt everyone was staring at him, sneering. He saw them appraising his weakness and thought they murmured behind their hands of how pathetic he was.

He was jumpy, and anxious. And tired. It had been a long five weeks...

At school on the third week, he had felt his mask tremble. He had been in class and then suddenly seemed to be in the midst of the cafeteria. He worried about the apparent lapses in his focus and memory. Judging by the clock he had been there for ten minutes. It was noisy, so noisy. He felt all his senses assaulted. The sound crashed down upon him, there was colour and movement and smell. He frowned, trying to collect himself and make sense of it. He realised he was sitting next to Tohru. Kyo was on her other side and Haru and Momiji sat across from them. He looked down and saw he had some pasta dish. He examined it curiously, noticing Tohru and Haru had the same. He thought he noticed Haru shooting him a worried glance. He began to pick at the food, having no appetite. Just then he heard his name. It was Tohru. What was she saying?

"...Yuki. Someone could have been seriously hurt!"

What was this? He tried to focus. Haru and Momiji's faces swivelled to look at him. Momiji looked confused.

"Sorry, what was that Miss Honda?" Yuki managed politely.

"I was just saying they should have been more careful pruning the roses. That cut could have been a lot more serious."

Yuki's breath hitched and he felt himself blushing. He'd been caught out. Momiji opened his mouth but Haru cut over him smoothly: "You're right, as always. But you know what they say, boys will be boys." He gave Tohru a foxy grin and raised an eyebrow. She blushed, completely distracted. As Kyo fumed down the table about Haru's "inappropriate behaviour", Yuki let out a sigh of relief. Haru gave him a sad, searching look. Yuki silently thanked him. They couldn't know he was so weak, so pathetic. He couldn't stand Tohru knowing that. Momiji didn't say anything more, for which Yuki was grateful; despite his immature behaviour, he knew Momiji understood about secrets.

One evening, after returning to Shigure's on the fourth week, Yuki had wandered to his garden and sat still, his mind blank for several hours. As the dusk faded to night, Tohru appeared. She was the only person Yuki had taken to his garden. It was his special place, his own. She approached gently and he didn't move. He wondered bitterly what she thought of him. Did she see the same despicable wretch Akito did? He shivered, and heard Akito's cruel whisper in the gentle wind which tickled the trees.

It didn't seem she felt that way. She knelt at eye-level and he gazed into her beautiful eyes, so kind and honest. She sat with him until he was able to convince himself the cruel whispering was just the wind, and come back to himself. When he blinked and shifted position slightly she seemed to know he was there. She stood and extended her hand timidly. Yuki vividly recalled Akito doing the same before a weekend of pain and darkness. He gulped and forced himself to react. This was Tohru. And she didn't hate him. Although maybe he was wretched, as Akito said, she didn't seem to hate him. He clung to that, and took her hand. It was small, warm and comfortable, very different to Akito's. They walked through the trees in peaceful silence, neither needing to speak.

Long after she had released his hand at his bedroom door, Yuki held on to it in his memory. The warmth. The softness. And most importantly, the hope that maybe someone didn't hate him.

He had behaved perfectly for Akito. He'd shown reverence and respect, bowing low and crawling to meet him, addressing him always as master. At the same time, he'd forced himself to answer Akito's questions, to muster a reply to his taunts. Each Friday evening he was ready early, waiting, no longer skulking away from the escorts who came for him. He did not whimper or cry out or flinch in Akito's presence. All of this seemed to please Akito, to Yuki's extreme relief.

On his fifth visit, Akito had brought him two meals both days he spent at the main house. He rewarded Yuki's meekness and politeness with warm blankets, ample food and soft touches.

Now, as the night drew in on the sixth Friday, Yuki sipped a strong coffee. He had just finished a delicious risotto Tohru had prepared. He watched the night, thinking. He used to like the taste of coffee, but since he started using it as a crutch to fight his nightmares it had become bitter to him. He tipped the cup and gulped the rest. He would need any energy it could provide. After swilling the cup out, he returned to the window, waiting.

Akito greeted him in his own bedroom that night. As the escorts nodded curtly and left, Akito stretched elegantly on the bed, very cat-like in his movements. He smiled up at Yuki. Yuki felt the warmth of the coffee in his chest. He drew on his remaining reserves of strength, and smiled.

"Master." He inclined his head respectfully, forcing the smile to seem natural. It seemed to please.

"Hmm, come my dear." Akito murmured. Yuki dropped to his hands and knees, and crawled to the bed. He felt no more alive than a puppet.

By the shifting of the bed he could tell Akito was sitting up. He didn't move, gaze fixed upon his own bare feet. Finally Akito reached down, breaking the stillness. Gently holding Yuki's face, he manipulated the boy's kneeling position so they were face to face. Ignoring his racing heart, Yuki forced himself to maintain eye contact. Eyes narrowing slightly, Akito smiled sweetly.

"Yuki my sweet little rat, how would you like to spend the night with your God, hmm?"

Yuki's breathing hitched. Struggling not to betray any emotion, he inhaled deeply through his nose.

"T-that would be an honour master" he whispered. Still Akito stared deeply into his eyes. His thoughts raced, tumbling over one another and becoming tangled as he tried to understand. What did this mean? Was Akito forgiving him? Yuki almost dared to hope so, but Akito's smile sent a chill through him.

"Stay here my sweet, I have things to attend to for now." Akito left, sweeping gracefully from the room. Yuki remained where he was, not daring to move. It was certainly more comfortable here than in his special room. It was considerably warmer, larger, brighter. Seeing an elaborate vase of flowers on a chest of drawers, Yuki focused on a single flower; an elegant white lily. It was so simple and striking. He thought Tohru would like it for her mother's grave. Thoughts of Tohru's kindness almost made him smile as he awaited his God's return.

When Akito returned he was holding two steaming cups. He set then down carefully on the ornate bedside cabinet, and turned to Yuki.

"Now my dear, bedtime."

He drew from the wardrobe a pair of white cotton pyjama trousers and a pale blue-t-shirt. Wordlessly he handed them to Yuki. Yuki swallowed. He felt uneasy and awkward. Resignedly he removed his shirt, draping it over the back of the plush desk chair. Akito reclined on the bed, clutching his cup in both hands. Pulling on the t-shirt, Yuki noted how soft it was. He quickly slid his trousers and boxers off, angling his body away from Akito. Because of this, he didn't see Akito's tongue dart out to moisten his lips, eyes glinting. Quickly stepping into the cotton trousers, Yuki sighed in relief.

Akito patted the bed beside him. When Yuki tentatively sat, Akito handed him the other cup.

"Tea" he murmured, "with honey. Hatori recommends it for both of us. He believes your asthma is returning. We don't want that, do we my sweet?" Yuki shook his head, taking a small sip.

"No master." They drank side by side in silence for some time. When Akito was finished he gently stroked Yuki's fine hair. When Yuki finished, he smiled.

"Time to brush your teeth my dear." He cooed, indicating the bathroom door. Yuki nodded. He closed his eyes the moment he was alone in the bathroom, taking a deep breath. He felt clammy. He felt unclean. Splashing cool water on his face was refreshing. He took as long as he dared, brushing his teeth methodically. He urinated, washed his hands and steadied himself against the counter. With a nervous sigh, he left the cool safety of the bathroom.

Akito had changed. He wore silk pyjamas, maroon with a navy trim. Once more he was reclining on the bed. He smiled at Yuki and again patted the bed next to him.

"Come to bed my little rat."

Feeling like a child, Yuki approached. He drew the covers over his body which suddenly seemed so small. He didn't realise he was worrying at his lower lip until Akito placed a cool finger over his mouth.

"Come now, stop that dear" came the soft reprimand. Akito reached over slowly, turning the light off and plunging them into darkness. Yuki's pulse raced as he felt Akito return.

His eyes adjusted quickly; years of living in darkness had sharpened them. He saw the face of his nightmares looming towards him. But this wasn't a nightmare.

"We wouldn't want you running your beautiful lips, would we my sweet, hmm?" The whisper came from the mouth mere inches from his own. Yuki felt the warm breath tickle his chin. A hand caressed his jaw. A nose brushed his.

Akito gently pressed his lips to his. Yuki froze, unresponsive. Sparks were radiating from his lips. They felt surprisingly hot. Akito's breath mingled with his own. It was tender. It was terrifying. Inside his mind there was screaming. He couldn't breathe.

Then suddenly, the lips were gone. He heard a dark chuckle. Akito shifted and drew the terrified boy closer. Yuki felt fingers gently stroking his hair, his neck, his arms. They encircled him, holding him tightly, closely.

"Sleep my sweet." The dark chuckle came again, and it scared Yuki more than any beating.

He couldn't sleep. He lay trembling in Akito's arms. His mind struggled. His body was being held and caressed by Akito. His God. His tormenter. The face of his nightmares.

His dreams were vivid, confusing and scary. Though less so than his reality.

Akito was absent for much of the next day, running errands he said. He did appear twice with food. They shared the meals in Akito's bedroom. The food was unusually rich and elaborate. It was too much for Yuki. His appetite had been lacking of late but he endeavoured to eat as much as he could, not wanting to displease Akito. That night Akito again invited him into his bed. Again, they sipped tea together. Again, Akito pressed his lips against Yuki's, to no response. And again they slept intertwined, the younger boy quaking in the cage Akito's body made.

When Hatori came to examine Yuki the following day he was pleasantly surprised to find no new injuries needing his attention. He applied antibacterial cream to some of the old cuts, and gave Yuki painkillers. "They'll be fine soon. Time heals all wounds Yuki." With a gentle, reassuring smile, he left. Yuki couldn't leave Akito's chambers, but the bedroom and bathroom were so much more stimulating and pleasant than his special room that this was no hardship for him. He had been given leave to shower and did so gratefully, letting the hot water soak him thoroughly.

Shortly before he was to be taken back to Shigure's that evening, Akito turned to him.

"I have decided that visiting me every two weeks should suffice henceforth." Yuki struggled to keep his happiness from betraying him on his face. With effort, he managed.

"Understood master" he murmured.

Akito paused at the door. "Do not give me reason to regret this decision Yuki." He swept from the room.

Returning to Shigure's that evening, Yuki felt the first stirrings of hope. The warmth of the others enveloped him instantly when he entered the house. That night, he slept peacefully.

The first weekend he wasn't obligated to visit Akito felt strange to Yuki. He woke anxious and shaken from a dream he couldn't remember. Hearing Tohru humming downstairs, he almost didn't believe it was real. Was this really the dream? He heard a small clatter and Tohru apologising profusely, and decided he didn't much care whether it was or not: he was going to enjoy it.

Visiting Akito every two weeks caused his nightmares to lesson. With more sleep he found he could focus more. He joined in more conversations, and felt himself becoming an active participant in his own life once more. It was amazingly pleasant.

Akito now invited him to spend the night in his bedroom each Friday evening. Yuki always accepted gratefully, fearing the alternative. Akito brought tea, watched him undress, kissed him, caressed him. After three fortnightly visits, Akito began kissing Yuki's neck in the dark. Yuki froze, fear bubbling in his stomach. The kisses were soft but urgent. Yuki's mind rejected the unwanted contact with its tormentor. Eventually they stopped and they fell asleep together.

One morning Yuki awoke to find Akito kissing his cheek.

One morning Yuki awoke to find Akito crying at the corner of the bed.

One morning Yuki awoke to find Akito slapping him hard across the face.

Once he woke to find Akito caught in the midst of a nightmare. Akito whimpered and twitched, his face contorting and limbs flailing. Yuki flinched away. He didn't know what to do. As his God gave a pitiful sob, Yuki reached out to him. He gently but swiftly removed the velvet throw he knew Akito didn't like. He pulled the cotton sheet up from where it was twisted at Akito's feet. Carefully he wrapped Akito in it. Noting the sheen of sweat on Akito's brow, he held him close, attempting to rub soothing circles on his back. Akito gradually stilled in Yuki's arms, his breathing stabilising. Seeing him vulnerable was strange and disconcerting for Yuki. He awoke shortly after, and appeared confused to find Yuki comforting him. After a mere second however, his face smoothed and he composed himself.

"Yuki" he smiled sleepily. "Good little rat."

During this period things at Shigure's were going well. The four had settled into a comfortable living routine Yuki would not have believed possible when Tohru and Kyo came to live with them. Weeks passed. Tohru, Kyo, Momiji and him visited a spa resort for White Day which Yuki found surprisingly relaxing and pleasant.

Akito announced Yuki could visit him once a month provided he continued to behave at the main estate, at school and at Shigure's house. Yuki hid his delight well. Things were returning to normal and he was deeply relieved.

He found himself spending more time with his brother Ayame . It seemed Tohru was determined for them to become closer. The thought made him smile wryly. Still, he had to admit that it had been almost nice to get to know Ayame, considering their difficult past relationship.

As the months eased comfortably by, Yuki found himself smiling even when no-one was watching.
He realised with a start one day that he was happy.

He spent most of his time with Shigure, Kyo and especially Tohru. They were his family. Once a month he visited Akito. He would spend the weekend wrapped in the older boy's embrace. These interactions with Akito confused him, and made him nervous, but he accepted them readily over the alternative. For a few days after the weekends at Akito's, he would feel low. He'd crave solitude and seek out his garden. Often he felt tainted, infected.
The majority of the month however, Yuki now felt fine. Absolutely fine.

The wounds on his body were healing: some scarring, others disappearing altogether. As he laughed with the others, Yuki wondered if Hatori was right.

Maybe time did heal all wounds.

Of course, he really should have known better.


Sorry this chapter is kinda all over the place and jumping about, I just needed time to pass to get onto the next thing -sorry!