1I Miss You

Disclaimer: I do not own the show/manga of Fruit's Basket/Furuba, nor do I hold any claim to the characters. The manga (and the anime) is totally awesome, and I wouldn't mind owning it, but I'll just haveta deal, y'know? (Plus, if I did own it, Rin and Akito would live no more, Hatori would be Head of the Sohma Estate, Kyo would get Tohru, I would get Haru, and much fun would be had...I like that better, but that's what fanfiction's for!)

Author's Note: I was just thinking and then I came up with the idea for this fic. I decided to name this fic after a Blink-182 song just because it struck me to do so. This fic is all about sadness and grief and caring for those you love, even if they aren't with you in reality. Remember—those you love are always with you, if not always in mind and body, then forever in spirit and soul. Not matter what, always and forever. (Wow...that was incredibly corny, lol.)

Chapter One: Remembering

Sakura Hanneko on the roof of her apartment building in Paris, shivering violently as the cold night winds whipped past her, cruelly taking all warmth and comfort from her frail little body without mercy and without remorse. She had never been a warm girl—on the contrary, she has been sickly all her life, finding it hard to retain warmth; which is why she always had so many problems. People don't realize how crucial body temperature is until they don't have it any longer. Her growing up in South Africa may have had something to do with it; she never needed to be warm, and so she dispersed excess heat, which became a bad thing when her family moved to Japan.

Even though Sakura is not good at keeping herself warm, not at all accustomed to col and wintry France, she often sits on the roof at night, for she loves the beautiful view and sense of infinitely impossible whimsy it grants her. The view of the city is very nice this close to midnight, with all the night lights, signs and other such illumination. She curls herself up under her thin blanket, body threatening to shut down at the obvious lack of heat. You're killing me, here! her body would complain, if bodies had the ability to do so.

Her twin sister, best friend and only living relative, Uta Tori, frowns upon these dangerous nighttime "prowls"—and who wouldn't, I ask you? Anyone who cares for Sakura would be upset by them; not only do they threaten her life, they threaten her health, and so even if they don't kill her, they will weaken her, inviting the illness to finish her off. The whole thing upsets Uta, who was actually old enough to remember the passing of their equally dehabilitated mother, the darling creature Ai Hanneko. Although Uta is the younger twin by a total of two hours, she acts like she's the older one, always looking out for Sakura, the difficult and "rebellious" "younger" "child". She is very over-protective of Sakura almost all the time, forever fussing over her, never allowing her a moments peace. Sakura has to sneak off just to have some waking time alone—and she does this gladly for that reason, even though it does nothing for her health. After all, she sees the future as inevitable, so why not "live" life while she still can?

Truth is, having time to herself and seeing all the beauties of glorious France are only two of the reasons why Sakura comes and sits out here at night, repeatedly, and has been doing this for the weeks that they have lived here; and those two are pretty minor ones even then, compared to the real reason, the real excuse for ruining her health, the real explanation. The major reason for these nightly prowls is one that nobody knows, most especially not Uta. Most especially about Uta. Nobody knows, that is, but Sakura herself, and perhaps the "receiving" end of the reason. In spirit, if not in actuality.

The real reason is that Sakura does not wish for her sister to see her cry.

Uta, her darling sister dearest, has given up everything to be with Sakura, to travel by her side, take care of her, fuss over her, keep her safe and all the rest of that. Company and love and care, all in exchange for Sakura—and that's it. The girl is too sickly to live on her own, to take care of herself; Uta is afraid that is she leaves Sakura alone she will get hurt, perhaps even die, and if such a thing were to happen she would never be able to forgive herself. She would blame her absence, and never would her conscious allow her to forgive herself and move on. As her only family left, Sakura was made all the more sacred, unexpendable.

Sakura is thankful for this love and care, God knows she loves it, but she would rather Uta took the next plane home and let her be. Not because she does love her sister, or want her around; rather, it is because she loves her twin that she wishes for her to be elsewhere. Sakura is as shy, soft-spoken, timid and selfless a girl as you will ever find in any place on earth. She is also extremely perceptive and impressionable, bordering on empathic; she knows Uta is hurting and badly, and she feels like it is all her fault.

Back in Japan, Uta has the makings of a new family, of a new life, all laid out and set up for her—the means with which to start her life over anew and make up for lost time. These possibilities, theoretically endless, are all rooted in one person: Her darling husband, Amon Tori. She loves him more than life itself, and he her, but she cannot take care of her little sister and live with her love; a conflict of interests. They like each other fine, but Japan is too painful for Sakura, all the memories hurt her as if they physically rip and render her insides; Amon has a family business to run and uphold—if he left it would go under, collapse, die, hundreds of years of tradition wasted needlessly. She chose her sister over her husband, in a way, and she misses him terribly, but she does not regret her decision; she would make it all over again, no matter how many times asked and re-asked. The answer with always be the same. It would just hurt more and more each time.

It's all my fault. I hear her crying softly at night, when she thinks I'm asleep and can't hear her, in the next room, ever-so-very softly. She doesn't want to wake me, considerate in all that she does, including lament and feel pain. Never does she express it in front of me, but I see the horrible truth in her eyes. She is unhappy; so unhappy that it would kill her if such a tragedy was possible. I see her clutching his photograph, murmuring to herself. It's all my fault! It's my selfishness that's keeping her here; my pain is getting in the way of her happiness. Oh if only I would just die! Then they could find their happiness!

Just thinking about all of this makes Sakura want to run away forever; however, she must stand for the next best thing—time away from her sister, every day, preferably at night, to tempt fate in the cold as she deserves, just so that she may cry, unnoticed; she has been enough of a hindrance already. She cries over the reason why she cannot bring herself to return to Japan, with Uta, to Amon and the possibility of a new life. The cause of it all...

She began to cry softly, making so little noise that even she could not hear. She didn't even sob as she cried, something as talented as it is difficult. However, this is not her first sort of outing where such a talent was needed; it has become second nature to her by now, crying without really crying. Her tears flowed, liquid warmth on her frosty cheeks. She hugged her legs closer to her body, burying her face in her knees, still watching the unwavering skyline. Her vision blurred from her tears; her mind began to wander back to the source of it all, deep into her bright, ruined, beautiful, painful past...

She could still see his face, hear his voice, feel his touch. To her, he was the most handsome man in the world, his laugh the most beautiful, his touch the most smoothing. Just seeing him smile and hearing him laugh would make her feel better, even in the darkest of times, as if she were healed. He was always laughing, always smiling, always joking. He never got angry, or even sad, it seemed. His smile never faded. Even in the grimmest circumstances he would be trying—and succeeding—in cheering everyone up. The Apocalypse could be coming, and he'd still crack a witty joke; people would still laugh, forgetting their plight. That's how it was for Sakura. He could always make her smile, even when she felt as if she was dying, too weak to stand up; her bad days. He would come and visit her in the hospital, even if it was only for a routine check-up. He would live there when things were doing worse. Even when Uta couldn't, he'd be there. In fact, he came so often that doctors and nurses who didn't even work with Sakura came to know his face, as well as his voice; from all shifts. He was there that much. "Such devotion," they would say, voices full of awe; some of the girls even sighed that bit dreamily, wishing for a man like him for their own. Wasn't she lucky...

Just thinking about him made Sakura hurt, ache from within, her heart burning and throbbing as she remembered, bit by bit, more and more, the past. She felt as if she were on fire, all cold forgotten; even as her fingers and toes went horribly, painfully numb.

Her mind wandered...all the way back to their meeting place of an eternity past. The cherry tree orchard. Perhaps it was her name, influencing her and making her subconsciously feel as if she had no choice, but Sakura has always loved cherry trees, their blossoms, their fruit, everything. The way they smell, look, feel; all of it. And she knows that he was influenced...by her. He loves them too...because of her. They would always meet under the central tree, which was the largest and most hidden of them all. He had named it Sakura the Beautiful, after Sakura Hanneko herself.

She had blushed even more than she always does when he first proclaimed that in the silly, over-dramatic way of his; she still felt greatly honored, and he was serious in the compliment, at least. He had a very odd way of making a girl feel special.

They would always meet there, under "their" tree, and have little picnics under the midday sun. No one ever knew where this place was, or that it even existed, for that matter; it was a special place, secret, for only them to share and cherish. She would sit under the tree, resting in the shade, waiting for him to show up. It was always cool under the branches and the leaves of the cherry tree; never too hot, never too cold. She is not tolerant of either (heat makes her melt, cold makes her freeze) and so it was perfect. He would come with food and they'd eat; he would arrive with a book or story he was working on, and they would read; or he would just come with himself, and they would sit together, perhaps talk, perhaps do nothing. A lot of times, since Sakura is not as talkative as he, they would just lay together in silence, enjoying one another's company and pleasant warmth. It was always enjoyable.

Sakura's tears were flowing freely by this point, and she made no attempt to halt them, or even to wipe them away. The memories flooded back to her en masse, as if on a massive tidal wave or typhoon, and she felt like her heart was being ripped from out of her chest. She missed him so much, she didn't want to remember; remembering the good times hurt because they were never to be had again, and remembering the bad times...they just hurt. She couldn't win.

One day pops out in her memories more than any other. That day was a very special day that would forever hold a strong, important place in her heart and in her mind. It was a day in the middle of the summer between second and third year. He was late. Sakura wasn't worried. He was often late, but only by a little, and he would always apologize, and she'd forgive him immediately. She leaned her head back on the bark of the tree and waited peacefully, closing her eyes, taking the scent of cherries deep into her lungs, which served to soothe her and make her almost feel normal; like a real human being. All was quiet and still—a songbird twittered in the background, as if to make sure she wasn't left all alone.

He came. He had been running; his cheeks looked flushed. He knelt down beside Sakura, breathing heavily, mouth open, almost as if he was panting. Each breath was long and rough, as they are after one runs long and hard. Sakura moved towards him, worried, as usual. He smiled through the discomfort, reassuring her, telling her not to worry.

"I'm fine," he was finally able to say, leaning back and resting his head on the bark as Sakura had been doing. He looked so handsome, black hair slightly ruffled, brown eyes loving and sweet, kind and comely. He clutched his side and winced briefly. "Sorry I'm late—I got held up." He explained no more with his words.

Before Sakura could even think of a question to ask, much less open her mouth and form the words, he took a small box out of his pant's pocket. Sakura stared at it; the box fit into the large palm of his hand comfortably, white and spotless, seeming to shine in the shade. She couldn't even find words now, too stunned and anticipant to speak. She was transfixed, hardly daring to breath: Is it...could it...be true?

"Don't get your hopes up," he advised, smiling broadly, obviously pleased with himself. "It may disappoint you." As if it could! He opened the box to reveal a small golden locket on a simple silver chain. Sakura continued to stare, hardly unhappy about it. "I had to run and fetch it—almost didn't make it." He took the locket our and opened it for Sakura to see. On one side there was a picture of a blooming cherry blossom, carefully decorated in pale pink and white paint. On the other side words were inscribed. They read:

Forever

I shall love you

My darling

Sakura

He closed the locket and undid the clasp; reaching around her slender, pale neck, he put it on Sakura, who was too stunned to speak. She looked down and touched the locket as he leaned back and admired his handiwork. She looked even more beautiful and radiant with it on, if such a thing were possible. She stroked the metal softly, admiring the spotless metallic surface. Her one little, soft smile made it all worth it for him. That was all the thanks he ever needed, for Sakura put much more behind a single smile than he. He loves how she smiled, just as she loves how he smiles.

"I love you and I always will," he softly said, leaning in, hot breath tickling her ear, as if to reinforce what the locket had already told her. Her cheeks blushed darker than usual and he smiled, half-laying down beside her.

Sitting up, he tilted her chin with a single finger, so that their eyes met. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, glinting beautifully in the light of the setting sun. His smile was gone. He touched one tear softly, taking it onto his finger, holding it up to the light and studying the flawless liquid like priceless diamonds or pearls, savoring the cool feel of it on his fingers. She grasped his large hand in her two small ones, holding it up to her face, closing her eyes and delighting in the feel of his warm flesh on her own; he was always so warm, even as she was so cold. They loved that about one another; opposites really do attract, like puzzle pieces.

Sakura closed her eyes as she remembered, her current tears no longer flowing, still staining her flawless porcelain cheeks. If she really concentrated, she could still feel his finger on her cheek, his hand on her own. Her lips parted slightly as her eyelids fluttered shut, anticiptaing what was to come; oh how she wished it was real once again.

Gently, ever so gently, always so sweet and caring, he pulled her in for a kiss, seeming to take an eternity to succeed, even though she was extremely willing. His lips touched hers, and she was flung into heaven. His lips massaged her own, tasting her, drinking of her deeply; running his tongue over her lips, they parted, but he did not dive in as he had requested and she had granted. Instead he pulled away, smiling, looking into her eyes like only he could do... Even to this very day, so many years later, Sakura can swear she can still taste his lips on hers, feel his tongue on her own. Oh, how she longs for the one last kiss she has been denied all these years...

She opened her eyes, shocked to realize that she really was on the rooftop in France, overlooking Paris; even more surprised was she to realize that she had been so long, so captivated by her daydream that she had been expecting it to be the truth. Horribly sad was she to realize that it remained a dream, a fantasy that is never meant to be. Her tears began to flow yet again, disappointed and tormented, hiding her face from view to muffle her now evident sobs; so great was her grief she didn't care if Uta heard or not.

Sakura finally relented and went inside when she could no longer feel her hands or her feet; this is the bizarre measuring tool she always refers to. Drive Uta crazy, she hates it so. Everytime she comes back in cold and numb, she tries to slip in unnoticed, but rarely does she succeed. (Uta, apparently, only ever realizes she was gone when she returns, for you cannot return if you do not leave. Smart one.)

"Sakura!"

Sakura winced at the sharp, angry tone with which her sister called her; she froze, eyes closed, waiting for the stomping and appearance she knew would come. By now she's used to it—the tone that Uta uses to mask her worry and care—but that doesn't make it any less hurtful. Does a cut harm you less when you have been cut before? Does a punch; a kick? No, but you do begin to numb yourself to the pain, become immune; lose all feeling and eventually it's like your not even getting hurt anymore. Alas, there are things that will always hurt you, and one of them is knowing that you have caused pain in those whom you love.

Sakura let herself be dragged off to bed, buried beneath warm quilts and blankets and the like. Uta fussed over her until she knew Sakura was warm and going to live; she slipped out for a minute to start her hot chocolate. Returning, she fluffed the pillows and turned on the electric blanket as she scolded her sister. Sakura just sits there, silent, enjoying the warmth, allowing Uta to scold her to her hearts content. Sakura deserves to receive it, and Uta deserves to disk it out.

"How many times have I told you to stop this dangerous nonsense? You know perfectly well that your body can't handle extreme temperatures, least of all the cold! It's freezing up there! It's Autumn here, so the night's are like Winter and the days like Spring, with harsh winds to suck away all your warmth! Do you realize how dangerous that is? Worse than what we're used to, especially that high up. And with only this rag to keep you warm! Are you insane! What if you were to freeze to death, pass out, get hurt? Would I be able to help you? Save you? Keep you alive? What would happen then, sister? What would happen then?"

Sakura never replied, knowing better. Finally Uta tired herself out and fetched the hot chocolate. They sat in silence as she made sure her twin drank ever last drop. Once she did Sakura began to feel sleepy, eyelids drooping, body no longer numb. Uta closed the window shades, turned off all lights but her lamp, closed the door and continued fluffing up her pillows and straightening her many blankets. So warm, so cozy, so peaceful, so secluded; how heavenly...Pampered Pet Sakura.

"We're going out tomorrow," Uta curtly told her, mouth pursed and lips pinched, an edge in her voice that seemed to cut Sakura for real, who winced. Sister pretended like she didn't notice. She set the electric blanket down a few clicks; just enough to keep the heat in. No need to boil or bake the girl.

"Where are we going?" Sakura asked, her words slurred, voice happily war, and sleepy; eyelids growing heavy, almost closed, mouth smiling lazily, used to such treatment.

Uta wasn't smiling; she hardly ever does anymore. She seemed slightly sour still, but Sakura didn't notice. "You'll see. Bonne-nuit."

Once Uta turned off her lamplight, as well as the rest of the lights in the house, and snuck over into her room, Sakura proceeded to softly cry herself to sleep, like an angel, enveloped in darkness. Uta, once tucked in, glanced at the picture on her bedside table and did the same.

Half a world away, two men and one girl unwittingly followed their examples.

Once Uta turned off the lights and closed the door behind herself, Sakura proceeded to cry herself to sleep, enveloped in darkness. Uta, once tucked in and surrounded by darkness herself, did the same.

Half a world away, two men and one girl unwittingly followed their examples.

I hoped you liked it! I wrote this all in one night, and I hope it's good. (I know it is now, because I redid it. I hope you agree with me, hehe.) If you like it, review. If you hate it, review. If you hate me, review—but make sure that even if you dislike me, your review pertains to the story. I will write and post the next chapter if and only if you review. Got it? Good. You better review!

Little Notes:

Sakura Hanneko: Sakura means cherry blossom, and I'm not sure what Hanneko means, but it just sounded right to me. (I do know, however, that "neko" means cat. "Han" I have looked up, but there are several meanings—all of which I forget. And I'm too lazy to re-look it up. I'd say sorry, but nobody I don't know personally is reading this. Besides, everyone should be used to me being a lazy bitch by now!) Sakura is frail, but only in body. She has a strong mind weakened by grief and uncertainty. She is beautiful, and I see her with rosy cheeks and pale skin. She kinda looks like a cherry blossom herself…

Uta Tori: Uta means song, Tori means bird. (It took me a while to originally realize that her name now meant Song Bird; yes, I am that slow, despite my smartness. Don't laugh...too much.) I figure Uta is a beautiful name, and the character is a beautiful, and strong, woman. She is also free and independent. She can sing as well, which she used to do often, crooning lullabies for Sakura to ease her grief, and reciting her own poetry to Amon to express her true feelings…

Amon Tori: Amon is a cool name, Tori means bird. Why this name? Just cuz…

Bonne-nuit: A bit of French. Since they're in French I thought I'd have them speak some of the language. I am taking French, and this phrase simply means "good-night."

The mysterious man: I just love mysteries, don't you? This man is a mystery only because I felt like leaving you with something to think about. Think you know who he is? You may be wrong, but if you wanna guess, be my guest. Who knows, if you're right there might be a pleasant surprise in store for you… Hint: There is one sentence that gives his identity away if you know the anime/manga. It is in the flashbacks, which are in italics. Come on, people, this isn't that hard!

It really isn't. Just look at the flashbacks; the detail is simple. Please, don't be as dumb as my friends...

Hoped you enjoyed reading this! (I sure enjoyed writing it!)

READ AND REVIEW OR DIE!