Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.
Dark
Hana was a dark person; she admitted it. She wasn't afraid to parade around in drab, hot, black clothing. She wasn't afraid to stare deep into someone's soul, so much so that the next day they told all their friends about 'that freak Hanajima.'
Hana was dark, and she knew it.
It wasn't so terrible that she was consumed by it. She hated metal music, and when she painted (a hobby of hers) she enjoyed painting calm, green forest scenes rather than the expected blue or black death scenes. Hana felt warmth blossom in her body when she spent time with her family, who had worked so hard to make her life comfortable and full of love. She felt like the missing piece of a puzzle who had found its spot in the picture when she spent time with her two best friends. And even now, when they spent time with the Sohma children, she didn't feel too angry about that. Many years ago she would have felt anger flaring up, jealousy burning within her. But now that the voices had stopped screaming, she felt more at peace with her life. She could accept things easier now, although she was still on the prowl around those two boys; who knew what they could do to Tohru?
So even though her life used to be an endless, black vortex that had been dark and only dark, things had lightened. Family, friends, a clear mind…all of these helped to paint her dark life a bit brighter each day. No longer was she a mostrous black, eyes small and trained on her shoes, hair let down to cover her eyes; Hana was a pale shade of grey, because although she had found happiness darkness seemed to find its way inside of her more often than not. She didn't know if it was because being alone and in the dark was comforting feeling, having felt it for most of her life, or if it was because the dark enjoyed her presence. Maybe it knew that one day she would snap, and all the light things in her life would drain out of her body and into the air, floating off to some unknown existence. Hana was always scared such an event would occur. She believed that not everything could be justified by science; the voices in her head had been a clear example of that. Maybe the darkness that seemed to like her so much was something else no scientist could explain.
And maybe, just maybe, Hana enjoyed the darkness a little bit too.