The promised Yukiru chapter. Tohru doesn't make an appearance, because I think that would have been mentioned in the manga if Yuki had ever seen her again before high school, but it is Yukiru! Also, remember that Yukiru is almost a full half of my Furuba world. I love it. But I'm not just eriting this for my own indulgence; I writing it because I haven't touched the 'hat scene' as much I should have yet. It's a very important day to Yuki and deserves more than half a mention in a story about his character development during his childhood.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or its characters. All rights go to Natsuki Takaya who I think must have a love of angst to have written Fruits Basket. (And her other works as well! What I've read has all been angsty.)

Year Nine – Thirteen Year Old

"Alright," our teacher says, drawing the whole class's attention. "We have an hour of time before school ends and I want all of you to write about an event of love that you've experienced. It needs to be at least five paragraphs. Understood?"

The rest of the class nods and groans at his proposition. As they take out paper and pencils I sit and stare at my desk. I can't think of anything. I can't remember a time when someone showed me love.

I can hear the others' writing and hesitantly bring out some blank paper and pencil. What can I say? Slowly, I write my name at the top of the paper just so I look as if I'm actually working on the assignment.

An idea occurs to me, and I raise my hand. "Usui-sensei, could I write about an event that describes love instead?"

He looks at me a little strangely. "Well, I suppose you could. If that's what you want to do, Sohma-san, go ahead."

I quickly begin writing, suddenly knowing exactly what to write about. The first half of the page fills quickly and I finish the rest before any of the others. A little bit later Usui-sensei gives the class five minutes to finish and lets us know that we'll be sharing what we've written afterward.

Oh. I look back down at what I've written. I hadn't realized that I'd have to read it out loud or talk about it. Suddenly self-conscious, I cover the words with my arm.

"Time's up. Finish your current sentence and put down your pencil."

Usui-sensei waits patiently with a slightly bored look on his face until everyone sets down their pencils. "Now, I'm only going to pick a few of you to share, but if you're called you must tell everyone what you wrote."

There's a chance then. Maybe I won't have to say what I wrote. He calls on a few others first and they talk about special birthday trips, a mother making a favorite meal, and meaningful friendships. All of them sound so warm that I forget about my own work and just sit and listen.

"Sohma-san, why don't you tell us what you wrote about?"

Jolted away from my thoughts, I suddenly realize that everyone is looking at me. My topic seems stupid now, as different as it is from the others.

I swallow before speaking and then begin. "Um… A few years ago, I was out walking and I saw a woman who had lost her daughter. She was worried and crying and yelling at the police."

I look around quickly and notice a few people trying to hold back laughter and I flush, embarrassed. It's not supposed to be funny! It's just… this is what I use to define love.

Face still burning, I go on. "I heard her description and I found the girl and led her back to her mother… and… and they were so happy to have found each other. As if the other was the only person who mattered."

And I was useful. Needed. A person that someone else depended on.

"It makes me happy to know that I helped. That I made a difference." I don't mean to say what I say next, but it comes out anyway. "I love that girl and her mother because I meant something to them. Even if that girl forgets me, I'll still love her."

Those who had tried not to laugh suddenly do. "That's stupid!" one boy says in between laughs. Their laughter echoes in my ears and I want to hide from it.

What's wrong with it? That had been love. That mother had loved her daughter to the point of tears and they'd only wanted to find eachother again. I couldn't fathom anything that was more loving than that.

They keep laughing at me, and at that precious memory until Usui-sensei manages to silence them. "Sohma-san," he says, "although that's a wonderful idea, perhaps it would be a good idea for you to learn what love is. You shouldn't take pleasure from the pain of that mother losing her daughter or of the girl who was lost."

My face is hot as I nod. I didn't think about it that way. I'm not happy she was lost, I'm only happy I could find her.

And as for learning what love is… Who would teach me?

I can still hear someone to trying to hide their laughter and I crumple my paper and hide it away in my desk. But I still love that memory, and I still love that girl.

Yeah, this is my Yukiru chapter. It's blatantly Yukiru too; he comes right out and says that he loves her, for pity's sake. But of course, it's angsty too. This story is almost all angst and very little else. =_= What did you think, though? When the other kids laughed at him? (That was depressing to write, by the way) How he defines love by how worried Kyoko was? Please tell me anything! Reviews are my sun and moon, I promise you!