A/N: This is a story I wrote based on Akito back when I first started reading the Fruits Basket series. It's a bit different, since it's a angsty, violent, suicidal one, and rated mainly for safety purposes. It was originally titled The Color of Hatred, but I thought it sounded like areally bad rip-off from Disney's The Color of Friendship. Not like the new title is any better. Anyhow,please review.
DISCLAIMER: Fruits Basket is an awesome manga written by Takaya Natsuki-sensei, and I admire her greatly for it.
WARNING: Rated for violence and suicide.
So That's The Color of Hatred
Akito's P.O.V
This world is cold. The snow is cold, tranquil, and it is constant. It always comes in winter, fades in spring, is gone for the summer and fall, and then comes back again, just as white and pure as it was before. This world is cold.
Like my heart.
'I will not end up like all the others,' I tell myself. But I am wrong. I alone carry the full weight of this curse, the weight of being the core of the Zodiac. I live off of my hatred alone.
That woman, the one who called herself my mother, she is the cause of this hate. This never-ending hate that will forever consume the depths of my heart. I wonder, sometimes, if she ever has glimmers of old memories, if she ever recalls that she has a child. Sometimes I wish she did. Other times, I just don't care at all.
Or so I tell myself.
She didn't even marry the man I could have called my father, she left him before she even knew she was going to have me. That damn woman gave birth and then left me on the doorstep of my father's house with a piece of paper.
It's yours. You take responsibility.
I sit in this empty house and think about all the things I would do if I ever met that woman again. (I refuse to call her 'Mother', and that will never change.)
I feel the joy pulsing through me as I think about the life I would be draining by wrapping my fingers about her throat, watching her eyes grow wide with fear…those same dark eyes that were passed on to me. I would revel in the pleasure of feeling her fragile bones snapping in her neck as they were crushed; crushed by my hands that would be gripping her flesh so tightly there would be fingerprints left in her pale skin.
I am smiling, because the world is cold.
I wonder if my hatred can be washed away by the snow that is gleaming outside of my window. That woman, Kana, Hatori had brought to me, the one who made me hurt his eye, said that snow turned into spring. I wonder if it would still turn into spring if I added a little bit of myself to it.
I walk out into that snow. It is cold and wet upon my feet; my kimono drags behind me and becomes damp with the melting blanket of white that is on the ground. The silver blade within my palm is sharp and I can feel it calling me.
This is the only way out of my hatred.
I watch as silver meets with the apricot-pink of my skin, as the blood comes seeping up through the slit. My blood is such a dark color, so deep a red it is almost black.
I see it drop onto the snow.
It's almost purple.
So that's the color of hatred…I think, sinking to my knees.
This world is cold.
End Akito's P.O.V
A/N: And that's that. All done. Hope my account doesn't get deleted because of it. Again.
