Yo~!! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!
I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; the wonderful creator of Fruits Basket, how I love thee! How can I show my appreciation? By borrowing your characters and putting them in weird situations, of course!! Oh, oh!! I do own the small poem that is in this though . . . it's dedicated to a close friend. [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!
"Speaking"
*Stress/emphasis*
//Thinking//
++Titles – timewise ++
Poem
~ Just a Little Something ~
By Doctor Megalomania
Part Four: Remiss
So I allowed Ristu to continue to visit me.
And with him, came the others.
I suppose once they saw that I didn't take a scalpel the pretty little boy's throat, they thought I was finally tame enough.
Ch'.
They don't know me well enough, I wouldn't take it to his throat, I'd take it to his face. I'd rather scar him for life, so that every day he'd have to look into the mirror and see that he was mine. Which reminds me, the first surprisingly was Yuki and that stupid cat.
They came with the idiot outsider Honda Tooru. The stupid cat stood against the wall, and glared and snarled to himself. He stood there for all of five minutes before he left. Yuki stayed marginally longer, I think it was more a thing between them than it was about me. Yuki stayed only to annoy the stupid cat. He watched me. Watched what I did. Must have been interesting since I ignored them all, and stared out the window. I don't want visitors.
I only allow two to visit me, one I await with pleasure, the other comes to serve me.
My china doll increased her visits. She became so much more daring, confident. I wanted to knock her down again, I liked that she seemed more comfortable with me, but I . . . want to control her. If she becomes too confident, she'll fly away from me. And besides, she's mine.
Possessive?
Maybe.
Jealous?
Of course.
Tonight, she wears a light perfume, probably dabbed behind her ears, and lightly on her wrists. I gaze at her openly, I don't know if she notices. If she does, she ignores me . . . if not, I'll make her notice me. I wish I wasn't so weak. To only reach up and touch her face. . . ah, that would be exhilarating. I wish she would talk, say anything, tell me her name. . . I still know nothing about my china doll. Shigure has come, without Ayame naturally, and I have never asked him.
Why?
Why have I never asked him about my china doll?
Because . . . because she is mine. I want to know her, but only . . . only what I learn from her, what words may fall from her lush lips, what feelings the touch of my hands bring from her. The movements of her body, how it responds to mine. I desire her.
Strange.
I've never felt this . . . strong desire, is this what Hatori felt for Kana? What Hiro has yet to transcend to with Kisa? The fact that I cannot touch her is alluring to me, the fact she fears me and yet still stays besides me charms me. . . my china doll will be mine, and soon she shall know it.
As for my other visitor. . .
The mornings, I wake to find Ritsu quietly tending to my breakfast. He rarely meets my eye, concentrating on his tasks. I have to admit, I thought he was much more clumsy. I suppose when he is not frantically worried about the impression he's making to new people, I suppose he makes a good servant.
I've yet to find out who he thinks he's in love with.
Naturally, if it's an idiot outsider he will have to be punished, and Hatori will have to erase her memory. I will not have him, this bumbling foolish monkey, allowing the secret of the Souma's to be revealed again. It's bad enough that idiot outsider Honda Tooru knows. He never speaks of her; apparently content to spend his time thinking about her instead. I catch him gazing blankly out the window sometimes as I eat. His light amber coloured eyes are slightly glazed over, and he sits on the edge of my bed with his hands clasped gently in his lap.
I don't remember ever giving him permission to sit there.
But I don't really feel like ordering him away.
When I look in his eyes I don't see the horrid expectancy I see in Ayame's, nor the cold blankness that I see in Hatsuharu's or Hatori's eyes. In Ritsu's I see . . . I see . . .
Love.
I see that warm feeling he has for his 'loved one'. It's calmed him, centred him. As if he's had some sort of epiphany. Please! I roll my good eye and push the plate away feebly. Ritsu blinks, and comes out of his daydream. He smiles slightly, as I grind out weakly, "I've had enough."
He nods, and lifts the plate away and brings back the book and a glass. Placing the glass down beside my bedside, he stares out the window for a moment. I don't know what possessed me to ask, but I quietly demand that he tells me about her.
"Her?"
I raise an eyebrow, my good eye narrows at him. He's been here nearly everyday for the last three months, did he not expect me to ask. "Yes, yes!" I spit, "her!"
He tilts his head, still not understanding me.
"Stupid monkey!" I rasp, "her, this girl you've fallen in love with!"
Realisation dawns like the morning sun on his face, and fear wells up in his eyes. Aw, how precious, he thinks this bed bound invalid is going to harm his precious little girlfriend! I smirk as best I can, and stare at him. Maybe I will hurt her, maybe I will kill her. He doesn't quite know what I can do.
"I've not fallen for a girl . . ." Ritsu begins carefully, "he . . ." he pauses, and dips his head, "I've fallen for . . . a boy . . ."
"A boy?" The smirk disappears from my face, and I stare at him. Hmph, I supposed I shouldn't have guessed anything else from a cross-dressing useless monkey. What else was I thinking; no girl could ever love this freak. I roll my good eye again, and stare at him, tell me about him. "Why did he . . ." I pause and look him over frankly, "why would he fall for you?"
"He wouldn't." Ritsu clutches his book, "he couldn't."
"Then why even think about him?" I stare at him, I don't understand why he feels the way he does if he knows his feelings can't be given back to him. What's the point of wasting so much love on a pointless endeavour?
"Because . . . he's so wonderful." Ritsu pulls his head up and looks at me, talking about his cruel lover gives him confidence enough to talk to his cruel clan head . . . how interesting. I will definitely have to crush this other. I will not have him give this pathetic monkey the ability to realise his own self worth. There is a difference between the damned useless monkey, and a confident one. A confident Ritsu, one who realises how very good at something he is, will change the dynamics of my grand master plan. Allowing Ritsu to become confident to the point where he creates another supportive figure in the cursed's inner family would ruin everything.
"What's his name?"
Ritsu blinks. His hands tighten against the book, as he stares at me. "I . . . don't want to tell you . . ."
I stare at him as I speak slowly, "why not?"
"Because . . . you'll . . ." he flounders a bit, and I smirk.
"Because I'll hurt him. . . hurt you . . . is it Yuki? Maybe you've fallen for Ayame . . ."
"No."
"No?"
". . . no."
Ritsu gets up, still not meeting my eyes. He speaks into his chest as he tells me that he will not be returning. He knows I could order it, but somehow I think he would risk my wrath when I get out rather than return again.
And that was that.
Ritsu didn't return. And I didn't get any better. I grew bored though. Without Ritsu to tend to me, I had to rely on the occasional nurse, and my other visitors. They all come holding Honda Tooru's hand. Momiji comes with Kisa and Hiro one time, but aside from polite enquires to my health they don't say much. Hatori still visits, checking my eyes. And the months . . . the months pass.
It's been a year and a month since my accident.
I've watched the sky the whole time, bandages have come and gone and casts have been put on, taken off, and put back on. Now, my outer injuries seem to have healed. I'm told my disturbing shade of pale is back healthy. My hair is longer, brushing my shoulders irritatingly, my right leg barely moves but I've been able to move my toes again. The sensation is unremarkable; pins and needles are my constant companions in both my arms. The drips will leave scars, but I don't care.
In fact I care about very little.
My china doll has gone. She never comes anymore.
Her visits slowed over the year, turning into one every week, every two weeks, months and finally stopped all together. I'd wait in bed for her, waiting to see her but she never came anymore. The last visit . . . she cried. She didn't even come into my room. I heard the door creak a little as she leant against it, and I heard her muffled cries beyond. Why did she leave? I didn't even know her name!
That hurt worse than when they put the metal pins into my knee, it almost felt as bad as when I found my mother. Yes. It did hurt, I hurt so much I began to refuse food. I only survive now because they feed me with those damned drips they've stuck into my arms. I know I need to eat but I don't want to. I want to fade away and die.
Finally.
I told Hatori.
"And if we don't find her?"
"I will not eat . . . if you try to feed me, I'll spit it out, if you put it in those drips, I'll tear the needles out. . ."
Shigure glanced at Hatori, and then back at me, "what if she doesn't want to see you?"
"She will. You will make her."
I could see it in their eyes, they didn't believe me. they didn't think she was real. But she was. She was real! She sat on this very bed, and touched my hands, my face. I felt her heartbeat in her wrist. I could describe her to them, and yet their blank faces told me that they didn't understand.
"Find her. Or I will kill myself."
"Akito. . ."
"No!" I rasp out, I want to slap Hatori for trying to persuade me, "find her now! Bring her to me! Tell the rest of the family to find her! I want her brought to me now!"
A succession of girls, all Souma's, were brought to me.
None of them was my china doll.
I glared at Shigure as he quietly thanked the girl who was leaving. He came over to me, and sat in the chair beside my bed, "Akito . . . that is all the girls who fit your description. There are no girls with light brown eyes, or auburn hair in the Souma family."
I wanted to scream at him. Reach up and grab his hair, pull at it until he found her. He stared at me thoughtfully for a moment before resuming.
"Unless . . ." he nodded slowly, "I think maybe I know who she might be . . ."
"Bring her to me now."
"She's away at the moment." Shigure stared at me, bemusement flickering behind his serious gaze, "perhaps tonight."
"She will come alone. Tell her that she will stay." I turned my head from him, and stared out the window. "Tell her . . ." I paused as a small bird fluttered past my window, "tell her I . . . missed her . . ."
Shigure got up, nodded, and left.
I stayed up that night. I had the nurses move the bed so it propped me into a sitting position. It hurt to be so elevated, but I wanted my china doll to know that I was fully aware of her this time. We would talk. I would tell her what she would do; she would have to stay with me from now on. I didn't want to lose her again. As the light from outside faded, darkening the room, I stared at the door. I waited, and waited . . . for a moment I thought she wouldn't come.
I would have Shigure's house for this. I would—
The door opened slowly, and she came in.
Like an angel, my china doll stood in the doorway for a moment, the light from outside casting her in silhouette. So beautiful. She stepped in and turned her back to me as she closed the door, gently so not to cause much noise. She stood like that and stared at the door before she spoke. "You asked to see me?"
Her voice was soft, familiar, her accent clearly that of the inner circle. But how. . .?
"I did. Where have you been?"
"I've been trying . . . to forget you . . ."
This hurts me; my heart begins to beat a little harder. "Forget me?" I ask, not realising I'm speaking aloud. "Why?"
"Because I do not wish to hurt you." Her answer is soft, "You will hate me, I did not wish to aggravate you when you are in this condition . . ."
"No." I shake my head, "Come here." She lifts her head, and turns. The shadows hid her from me still. How can they be so cruel to me? I want to see her in her full beauty, not just pieces anymore. "Come here." I command again, "Come here now."
"Yes, Akito-sama."
She steps over, her slippers are quiet against the cold floor, and she lifts the hem of her kimono as she pads over quietly. I shift slightly, and motion the side of the bed that is against the window. "You will sleep here tonight." I lift my arm, pulling the drips up with them, "I trust you do not toss in your sleep."
"No . . ." she whispers, "but I . . ."
"You must be tired, it's late." I say, I amaze myself really. I'm speaking softly to her. But then. . . I don't want to scare my china doll. I want to know who she is . . . and daylight will bring that revelation.
She knows this, and dips her head as she comes closer. "You will kill me."
"Are you afraid to die?"
"No . . ." she shakes her head, "I am too bold already . . . I fear not death."
"So poetic . . ." I whisper to her, as she walks around to the end of the bed. Gracefully, she mounts it and climbs to my side. "I shall enjoy your company."
She lies down on her front, using her hands to cover her face, "You shall not."
"Who are you to tell me who I will enjoy . . . Silly child, trust me . . ." I leant over, her perfume once again touching me deeply, her hair was soft as I pressed my face into it. Her warmth seeped into my senses and lulled me. I slept with her, it would hurt in the morning, but her very presence was a balm to my body. I ran my free fingers over the silken kimono, feeling the contrast between the silken material and the embroidery threads of the design; each butterfly was lovingly stitched into this material. I decided that I would have Ayame make her a beautiful kimono, to commemorate the finding of our love. Beautiful landscapes etched into pale cream, with the collar and edges would be a dark purple.
And in the morning . . . I would know who she truly was . . .
~Maybe you won't love me the way I love you
Maybe I can't ask that of you
But you can ask it of me.~
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And Now It's Time To LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!!
DrM: [reads reviews]
Akito: [raises eyebrow] They're all very good and nice … except that one …
DrM: [nods]
Akito: You're a sicko …
DrM: [shrugs] eh, what can I do?
Akito: Twisted …
DrM: [yawns] gotta break the mould somehow …
Akito: Gross…
DrM: [shrugs]
Akito: And they don't like Yaoi …
DrM: [growls] Insult me! Fine! Question my heritage!! Eat my food!! Sleep in my goddamned bed, but NEVER insult beloved Yaoi!! [raises fist and rants] NOBODY DISSES MY BELOVED YAOI AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!!
Akito: You're kinda cute when you rant …
