Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Fruits Basket.

What does it take to set the Sohmas free after Akito's death?

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A/N: Enjoy this interlude. Sorry for making you all wait for the drama. Teehee.

Warning: Foul language.

The Puppet Master's Last Testament

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Chapter Thirty-Six: Interlude II: Morning Reflections

Ichiro woke up alone. He opened the flap of the tent. The sky was cloudless. Where was Haruhi? Out gathering berries? He laughed at that thought. That was her life's calling. Nature's little nymph. This was there ninth camping site since that rainy night weeks ago. There only stayed in each location for a few nights. They did not want any of Ichiro's "castle" people to track them – this medley of people included people from guards to uncles. His capture would be rewarded with money. They would both be burned at the stake – Ichiro for leaving his family, leaving his heritage0; Haruhi for being the siren that lured him away. Oh, and back to the berries. Everyday, no matter the location, Haruhi told Ichiro she would go out to gather fresh berries. She said, "I know you left your family for me. I don't want you to forget the luxury you lived it, so I will pick fresh berries for your breakfast." She had even taught him about how to distinguish a "good" berry from a "bad" poisonous one. He could never concentrate on her words, only on her expressions and gestures. He was lost in her.

In return, he taught her how to read and write. Her penmanship was remarkable for someone so raised as a filthy peasant, the bottom of the social hierarchy. He had packed many books devoted to culture and history, taken from his library. She was so eager. He loved it.

He stretched on the scratchy wool blanket before getting out of the dim tent. The swift November wind welcomed him. With his towel and black cloak, he went to a nearby lake. He stripped himself, before wading into the water.

Haruhi was startled to hear water splashing. She peered between two trees and noticed a pale man across the lake. Ichiro. She smiled and watched him hum quietly to himself. It was these moments that she loved, watching such a prosperous young man, one who had everything, enjoy the simplicity of nature. That was how they met in fact.

Haruhi settled her satchel full of berries on the ground and sat down. She remembered that beautiful day four years ago. She had been fifteen. He had been seventeen.

Flashback

Haruhi walked to the edge of the barn. She spied a silk spider web; its gossamer lattice struck her as beautiful. The morning water droplets shimmered in the soft glow of the sun. She had always been a curious child. She strayed off the beaten path to admire an exotic flower. She climbed over stone ruins to watch a trail of harvesting ants. She sat atop leafless trees to watch sunsets.

She had forgotten her duty to go to the marketplace to buy eggs. Oh well.

She had found an unmarked path and followed it. To this barn.

She watched the spider to its magic.

"Admiring my mare, are you?" Said a smooth, masculine voice.

"Hai, no, I mean, I'm looking at his spider web."

"A spider web?" He asked, incredulous. She looked at him. He was a God. He was wearing a dark cloak. It was open to reveal a white collared shirt. He was tall and lean. He was smiling at her.

He advanced toward her.

She took a step back, realizing that his must be the owner of the horse, and that he was probably very wealthy, and wanted to have nothing to do with her, and would shoo her off the property, or call his guards to take her away, throw her in a dungeon…

"Wow, you're right, this web is beautiful. It's like an illusion, drawing you in."

It was now her turn to look at him incredulous.

"Hai-hai."

"Do you always stutter this much?"

"No-no."

He chuckled. It was not spiteful. It was not what her mother had said: "The rich look down upon the poor like they are filth."

He chuckled again. "My name is Nijiro Ichiro." He was from one of the richest families in Japan. He stuck out a well-manicured hand. Haruhi folded both of hers behind her back. "My-my hands are really dirty." She blushed, thinking about her unsightly appearance – her filthy apron, her scrubby feet peeking out her straw sandals, her grimy chicken-feed filled hair (a chicken squawked and she jumped, spilling everything).

"Nonsense." He took her arm and pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it. She turned a dark shade of red.

A horse's neigh startled her. "It's only Raki. Would you like to meet the king of the barn?"

Haruhi nodded her head absentmindedly stunned that royalty had just kissed her plebian hand.

What he found most intriguing in this peasant girl was her eyes. Everything else about her was beautiful in its simplicity, but her eyes. They were large and innocent. They tended to change color with the weather and emotion. Right then, they were a deep green. They were remarkable.

End Flashback

She should forgive him for all his jeers and taunts. He had given up so much for her.

"BOO!"

Ichiro jumped out of the water, splashing cold water all over her, destroying the reflection he had seen in the water, of them. Of two runaways. Now, the water rippled like a snake in sand.

"You prick!" She poked him in the chest and he stumbled back into the water, pulling her with him.

"You know I can't swim!" Tears tricked down her cheeks as she tried to pull away from him. But he was too strong.

"But at least I'm a pretty prick. Don't worry, I won't let you drown."

With a few swift kicks, they were fully immersed in the water.

"I'm drowning!" Haruhi screamed. He held onto her wrists.

"Paddle your feet."

She did as told. Her life depended on it.

His eyes melted to see her effort.

After watching her struggle for a while, he brought her back to shore. She was limp in his arms.

"Stand up!" He commanded.

"My legs feel really wobbly." She looked like a doe caught in a circle of wolves – afraid, on the verge of collapsing.

"Here, sit on this rock."

"I hate you," she said miserably. She wrapped her arms around her torso.

You wish you could hate me. I wish you could hate me so I won't feel so guilty for being so spiteful toward you. Too bad you are so gullible and dull. You don't have a single hateful bone in that soft, yielding body.

He knelt down beside her and said, "You don't mean that."

He wrapped his arms around hers, and kissed her shivering blue lips. His finger traced the edge of her ear, to her beautifully flush cheeks. He kissed the spot right below her ear. She mewled in response. Right after he stopped, her voice broke.

"What's wrong, Ruhi?" Her nickname.

"Will we always be like this? Silly bantering, stolen touches? If you are ever gone… I will die, Ichiro." Don't you know that I love you. I've never felt this way. This stifling feeling deep in my heart. Sometimes I have nightmares that my heart is going to explode. And you will just laugh when I am lying there, dying. Don't you know how much I love you.

"Don't say anything that drastic. Of course we will always be together. We've made it this far."

His eyes searched hers. The flicker of fear and pain was replaced with one of joy and hope.

"I want you so much. No one can take that away." He said before nuzzling her neck.

"You promise?"

"I promise you." Anything to appease her. He felt a tear graze his cheek, and it sure as hell wasn't his.

"Dammit. Why do you have to ruin the moment, Ruhi? Don't you know I hate it when you cry." Because it makes me feel like I caused it.

"They are tears of joy." She was happy. He may not have ever said I love you, but his actions proved his care for her.

His features softened.

His lips ran over her eyelids. His lower body pushed hers, until the both of them were in the horizontal position, his lying precariously above her. He moaned into her mouth when her hips bucked. "Don't to that, Ruhi." You'll regret it.

He continued to kiss her as his deft fingers unbuttoned her blouse. He pushed the wet fabric off her chest and looked at her breasts. They never ceased to amaze him, the pig that he was. None of the girls he had been with before had breasts like hers – perfectly pert globes topped his dusky erect nipples.

One of her hands pressed against his chest softly, as if to say she wanted to slow down. She also liked to hear the steady thumping of his chest, even when they were kissing passionately. He was that beacon of light her mother had told her about. "One day you will find that beacon of light. It will guide you, Haruhi."

After passionate kissing and caressing (they never went further), Ichiro placed Haruhi's head up against his heart. She listened.

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Shigure was very satisfied with the chapter. It had taken him some willpower to settle down at the computer to type some stuff. It was the perfect amount of fluff to balance out the angst that would come soon. He stretched on the leather chair and rubbed his eyes. He twirled his numb wrists a few times before going into the bathroom to take a quick shower. The story was happy. He felt miserable.

He wanted her.

Now.

He was asleep fifteen minutes later. He dreamed of a particular girl with big doe eyes and a smile that could warm the chilliest of humans. He dreamed that a little faerie had sewed and mended the relationship between Tohru and him with a pretty little silver needle.

Tohru went to sleep at eleven in the guest bedroom of Hanajima's house. She dreamed of a particular man with twinkling eyes and a smile that could make the most modest girl feel confident and coy.

Both missed each other very badly.

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They had been playing the game for one month, two weeks, one day, fifteen hours, and thirteen minutes.

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A/N: What is your opinion about the interludes? Did everyone get the double-meaning title? By the way, they are in no particular order; they are just bits and pieces of the story. I think that is what I plan to do with the steps of the will. Periodically, I will stick one in, so I can move the story along faster, and not be caught up in each step. Thanks for reading.