Fragile Autumn
Disclainer: Ano...Fruits Basket is not mine.
A/N: I decided to put my little comments up here. I realized that having this one after the ending kind of ruined the mood of this chapter. Anyway, if you don't know, "Okaasan" is "mother" in Japanese. I'm aware most of you know this, but when I was younger I remember reading fanfictions and becoming irritated at all the Japanese words they threw in that I didn't know.
Ah yes! Thanks for the all great reviews! ^^ You don't know how much it means to me...
Rei: Oh goodness! Thank you for reviewing first! ^^ It's reviews like that that make me so happy...
Yuan: I'm glad I can make my work unique ^^; Oops XD My bad on the autumn thing. I just remember learning about "Aki" when I learned about the four seasons. I just assumed ^^; Ah well, I'll keep the title anyway. I still think it fits.
Anee: Wee ^^ Thanks. I'm glad I caught your interest.
Kireina: ^^ I just love getting inside characters heads!
Keitorin:Yeah, a lot of Akito fics can be pretty mean x.o (plot: Akito decides for some reason he wants to punish someone, angst ensues.) I don't like stories where he is made out as JUST the bad guy.
Hiei-luver45- I know x_o Akito just needs a hug...
Arrei: Aw! You should finish that story. I would surely read it ^^ Anyway, I'm glad you liked the first chapter. Your stories are quite good too ^_^
Hyper Riceball: XD Love the screenname, by the way. Big Akito fans are cool ^^ Get writing!
Thank you SO much everyone! :O You make me feel very happy...
Hope you like this chapter!
**Chapter 1~ Cold Hands**
****
~ Kudaranai jouku mo kokochii barado mitaini, kioketa shiawasena anokokoni modoretanara.
~I wish I can go back to a happy time, where even a silly joke sounded like a comfortable ballad.
****
I lied.
I told you I was going to tell my story from the beginning, but I lied.
The beginning isn't very important.
I'll just be quick and sum it up.
For nearly five years, I lived blissfully unaware of what was going on inside my body, my mother believed I simply had a bad immune system, and my father knew the truth, hiding it from us all.
It was as simple as that.
I didn't go to school because my parents thought it wouldn't be safe. I guess they just didn't want me dropping dead when they weren't there.
How nice of them.
Instead, I was taught at home by one of the elder Sohma's who had just recently retired from a teaching career. I always caught him giving me weird looks.
...It scared me. It was scary to have adults look at you with concern when you couldn't figure out what was wrong. Why they were frowning.
My father... he was good at keeping secrets, but no one could keep such a secret forever.
When I was four years old, only three weeks away from my fifth birthday, I fell dangerously ill. I could hardly move, I would babble things incoherently, and I was constantly in and out of the hospital. I don't remember much else.
I just know it was when the curse finally caught up to me.
He must have told mother then, now that I think of it. He saw how panicked she was, how confused...
It was a mistake to fling the truth upon her so quickly.
"Marise, our child is dying."
It must have been as blunt and sudden as that.
After all, that was how he told me.
...I got better in time for my birthday, but by the time I was aware of my surroundings, my mother had become a different person. Her voice had become softer, and her eyes would become sad and empty whenever she looked at me.
I think she broke.
I know she broke.
I can remember what happened next.
It had been a week since my birthday, and nearly two weeks since I recovered from my "illness." I was laying my head against the kotatsu, letting the heat seep into my skull. My parents were talking in low, hushed voices, trying to pretend I couldn't hear them. It didn't matter though; I wasn't listening.
"Akito-kun?"
I lifted my head up, curious eyes watching my mother.
She smiled, "Akito-kun? Would you like to go for a walk? You've been in bed for so long. I'm sure you'd like to see some sun, wouldn't you, Akito-kun?" There was a touch of fake cheerfulness in her voice, although I didn't notice it at the time.
I quieted nodded and she took my hand, helping me up. She dressed me, and led me by the hand outside. I remember seeing my father before we left. His eyes were sad and full of worry...
I took a breath.
We walked down the long busy roads of town, holding hands. Mother wasn't looking at me. She couldn't bear to see my face. Not after she knew the truth.
How despairing that must have been.
She was so weak.
I squinted my eyes in the sunlight; it was so different from our darkly lit house. It felt like my head was spinning, like I was tied up on some sort of hospital bed with the light shining too bright over my face. The light was escaping into my brain and squeezing it, choking it. Stretching it to see how far it would go before it burst.
That is what I remembered it feeling like.
"Okaasan...I want to go home now. It's too bright." I spoke faintly, nearly in a whisper. My voice had not yet recovered from the sickness, "It's too crowed. My ears hurt, Okaasan..."
She stopped.
I looked up.
She squeezed my hand tight.
I squeezed back, not fully understanding what was going on. "What is it, Okaasan?"
Mother turned her head away from me, looking out into the street, into the endless cars and people. She spoke, her voice trembling slightly. "Akito...Akito, your hands are always so cold."
"Okaasan?"
"And you're so skinny..." She sounded like she was about to cry.
I looked at her with confused eyes. She was babbling...I didn't understand what she talking about. I didn't understand what was making her so sad. Adults aren't supposed to be afraid, they aren't supposed to cry. She was doing it all wrong.
Without another word, she tore her hand away from mine. I cried out in protest, wanting her to hold my hand again. Pleading. But mother didn't listen.
Instead, she threw herself into the street...
...right in front of a truck.
"OKAASAN!"
She died on impact.
That is why I find my mother weak.
Disclainer: Ano...Fruits Basket is not mine.
A/N: I decided to put my little comments up here. I realized that having this one after the ending kind of ruined the mood of this chapter. Anyway, if you don't know, "Okaasan" is "mother" in Japanese. I'm aware most of you know this, but when I was younger I remember reading fanfictions and becoming irritated at all the Japanese words they threw in that I didn't know.
Ah yes! Thanks for the all great reviews! ^^ You don't know how much it means to me...
Rei: Oh goodness! Thank you for reviewing first! ^^ It's reviews like that that make me so happy...
Yuan: I'm glad I can make my work unique ^^; Oops XD My bad on the autumn thing. I just remember learning about "Aki" when I learned about the four seasons. I just assumed ^^; Ah well, I'll keep the title anyway. I still think it fits.
Anee: Wee ^^ Thanks. I'm glad I caught your interest.
Kireina: ^^ I just love getting inside characters heads!
Keitorin:Yeah, a lot of Akito fics can be pretty mean x.o (plot: Akito decides for some reason he wants to punish someone, angst ensues.) I don't like stories where he is made out as JUST the bad guy.
Hiei-luver45- I know x_o Akito just needs a hug...
Arrei: Aw! You should finish that story. I would surely read it ^^ Anyway, I'm glad you liked the first chapter. Your stories are quite good too ^_^
Hyper Riceball: XD Love the screenname, by the way. Big Akito fans are cool ^^ Get writing!
Thank you SO much everyone! :O You make me feel very happy...
Hope you like this chapter!
**Chapter 1~ Cold Hands**
****
~ Kudaranai jouku mo kokochii barado mitaini, kioketa shiawasena anokokoni modoretanara.
~I wish I can go back to a happy time, where even a silly joke sounded like a comfortable ballad.
****
I lied.
I told you I was going to tell my story from the beginning, but I lied.
The beginning isn't very important.
I'll just be quick and sum it up.
For nearly five years, I lived blissfully unaware of what was going on inside my body, my mother believed I simply had a bad immune system, and my father knew the truth, hiding it from us all.
It was as simple as that.
I didn't go to school because my parents thought it wouldn't be safe. I guess they just didn't want me dropping dead when they weren't there.
How nice of them.
Instead, I was taught at home by one of the elder Sohma's who had just recently retired from a teaching career. I always caught him giving me weird looks.
...It scared me. It was scary to have adults look at you with concern when you couldn't figure out what was wrong. Why they were frowning.
My father... he was good at keeping secrets, but no one could keep such a secret forever.
When I was four years old, only three weeks away from my fifth birthday, I fell dangerously ill. I could hardly move, I would babble things incoherently, and I was constantly in and out of the hospital. I don't remember much else.
I just know it was when the curse finally caught up to me.
He must have told mother then, now that I think of it. He saw how panicked she was, how confused...
It was a mistake to fling the truth upon her so quickly.
"Marise, our child is dying."
It must have been as blunt and sudden as that.
After all, that was how he told me.
...I got better in time for my birthday, but by the time I was aware of my surroundings, my mother had become a different person. Her voice had become softer, and her eyes would become sad and empty whenever she looked at me.
I think she broke.
I know she broke.
I can remember what happened next.
It had been a week since my birthday, and nearly two weeks since I recovered from my "illness." I was laying my head against the kotatsu, letting the heat seep into my skull. My parents were talking in low, hushed voices, trying to pretend I couldn't hear them. It didn't matter though; I wasn't listening.
"Akito-kun?"
I lifted my head up, curious eyes watching my mother.
She smiled, "Akito-kun? Would you like to go for a walk? You've been in bed for so long. I'm sure you'd like to see some sun, wouldn't you, Akito-kun?" There was a touch of fake cheerfulness in her voice, although I didn't notice it at the time.
I quieted nodded and she took my hand, helping me up. She dressed me, and led me by the hand outside. I remember seeing my father before we left. His eyes were sad and full of worry...
I took a breath.
We walked down the long busy roads of town, holding hands. Mother wasn't looking at me. She couldn't bear to see my face. Not after she knew the truth.
How despairing that must have been.
She was so weak.
I squinted my eyes in the sunlight; it was so different from our darkly lit house. It felt like my head was spinning, like I was tied up on some sort of hospital bed with the light shining too bright over my face. The light was escaping into my brain and squeezing it, choking it. Stretching it to see how far it would go before it burst.
That is what I remembered it feeling like.
"Okaasan...I want to go home now. It's too bright." I spoke faintly, nearly in a whisper. My voice had not yet recovered from the sickness, "It's too crowed. My ears hurt, Okaasan..."
She stopped.
I looked up.
She squeezed my hand tight.
I squeezed back, not fully understanding what was going on. "What is it, Okaasan?"
Mother turned her head away from me, looking out into the street, into the endless cars and people. She spoke, her voice trembling slightly. "Akito...Akito, your hands are always so cold."
"Okaasan?"
"And you're so skinny..." She sounded like she was about to cry.
I looked at her with confused eyes. She was babbling...I didn't understand what she talking about. I didn't understand what was making her so sad. Adults aren't supposed to be afraid, they aren't supposed to cry. She was doing it all wrong.
Without another word, she tore her hand away from mine. I cried out in protest, wanting her to hold my hand again. Pleading. But mother didn't listen.
Instead, she threw herself into the street...
...right in front of a truck.
"OKAASAN!"
She died on impact.
That is why I find my mother weak.