Disclaimer—I don't own Fruits Basket

Author's Notes—This fic is based off the anime, since I don't want to write a manga-based fiction until I've read it all. Some manga information will be in there, but just from volumes 1 through 9, and only select information. This means certain things: 1) Akito is a boy. I like Akito better as a boy, anyway. 2) Uo never met the one Sohma man (I've forgotten his name, mainly because a—her meeting him made me mad since Uo belongs with Kyo and Kyo alone, and b—I haven't memorized book 9 yet). 3) Other information will reveal itself as necessary. I'm making up some names, like for Yuki's parents and such. Their real names would be greatly appreciated.

Oh, and brownie points to anyone who catches two book quotes in this chapter.

Four and Five

Four. Four was an important number to Kyo.

It had been four years since his true form had been revealed to Tohru.

It had been four half-years since Yuki and Tohru had finally worked up the nerve to hold hands and go out on dates.

Four months since finally getting his own place.

Four weeks since Tohru first sported a gold ring topped with a blindingly sparkling diamond.

Four days since news reached him that Akito had passed away.

And four minutes since his car had broken down on the way to the funeral.

Kyo cursed in intervals of four seconds. His place was two hundred and forty western miles south of the Sohma main house. If he went sixty miles an hour, it would have taken him four hours to get there from his house, and he had left three hours ago.

Except now it would take many more hours, since roadside assistance seemed to be taking their good sweet time to get to him. Patience was still not a strong point for Kyo.

And to add insult to injury, the sky was threatening rain.

Kyo cursed for the fourth and final time before slamming his fist down on his horn, causing a dog to bark in one of the backyards of the neighborhood in which his car had broken down. If that dog was Shigure, there might have been cruel irony for Kyo, but Shigure still lived in that same house with the wrecked paper doors, just four miles from the Sohma main house.

Kyo looked at the clock. Four minutes after four. Angrily, he pounded the horn four more times, accompanied by four more cusses.

He hardly looked up when he heard a door slam, so lost was he in his fury at the world that seemed intent on making life miserable for him. Tohru was already talking about "Four in Four"—four babies in four years. How on Earth she was supposed to do that was lost to him. The lovebirds could not even embrace without Yuki becoming a rat, and there was no way that Tohru had the constitution for one child per year. The only way they could possibly do that was by some kind of weird test-tube birth process that would cost over twenty thousand yen that Kyo knew full well they couldn't afford.

Four bangs were suddenly heard on his window, and he turned around with a look that could make flowers wither away and die. He was met by an equally venomous stare.

"Do you mind, buddy boy? Some of us have babies that need sleep! What's the brilliant idea with honking in a residential neighborhoo—"

"Yankee?"

"…Orange-head?"

Five. Five was an important number to Yuki.

Five was the age when his memories of the Sohma main house started.

It had been five years since he left the Sohma main house.

Five years since he met the love of his life.

Five months since he had bought the ring.

Five days since Akito had officially been pronounced dead by Hatori.

Five minutes since arriving at the Sohma main house with Tohru in tow.

For the funeral which would take place at five this afternoon.

Tohru was crying, naturally, and she had started five seconds ago. Kisa and Hiro were already there, and had been for five hours. Kisa had run to Tohru when she and Yuki had walked in, hugged her around the waist, and started crying, which had set Tohru off. Hiro was watching them stiffly, still slightly jealous of the sisterly affection between the two girls. Yuki fixed him with a warning eye and then wondered over to the couch, with a half-whispered, "I'll be over here," to Tohru, who nodded and kept on bawling, holding the smaller girl tightly to her chest.

"We'll miss you when you pass away."

Tohru had said those words four years ago, when Akito had had a stranglehold on her hair and was threatening the loss of her memories. Yuki had been scared then, his entire chest had been filled with lead. All the hate and misery stored in Yuki's soul seemed to have been weighing down on Yuki's entire being; pumping in his blood, obscuring his vision, filling his breath. He hadn't thought it was possible to hate so much before, and then he thought it wasn't possible to hate anyone more.

And then Tohru said those seven words, those eight syllables, and suddenly a great void replaced that lead of animosity and wretchedness. Even now, there was nothing. There was no inclination to mourn nor was there room left to hate. Akito's death produced no feeling in him. It was just a fact, like two and three equals five.

"Yuki-chan? Are you okay, honey?"

Tohru had started calling him by that pet name ever since she had gotten the ring on her finger; she said it made her feel like a real wife. As he looked up into her blue eyes, the nothingness in him began to be displaced like a brick dropped into a bucket full of water. Everything about Tohru made him happy, everything about her made his soul feel like it could take to the air and defy any and all laws of gravity. Her love, her kindness, her compassion, her philosophy, even her gullibility and ingenuousness made him want her always at his side with eyes for no other person.

Tohru had once told him that Mine believed that what Ayame feared most was nothingness. Yuki understood. How strange that such a thing should be what he shared with his brother, but it was. He felt nothing over Akito's death, and the thought scared him. Compared to Tohru, compared to anyone, Yuki felt it made him less of a human being. Feeling were what made humans sentient, apart from plants. What was he if he couldn't feel?

"Yuki-chan? Are you okay, honey?" Tohru repeated, leaning over him, her hands supporting her upper body as they rested on her knees.

"I'm…okay. I'm not happy but…I can't say that I'm not sad either. I just don't feel…anything."

"Oh, Yuki-chan…" Tohru picked up his hand and squeezed it. "It's okay, you're just unsure, I can tell. You do and don't want to hate him, is that right?"

"Yeah…yeah, it is," Yuki said slowly. "I just… It was years…years ago, and I'm an adult now. I should just be past this, shouldn't I? I hate that I can't forgive him like you can—"

"Honey…" Tohru reached forward and touched just below his shoulder, a place where Akito's whip had been particularly vicious, and the mark enduring. "Just be yourself and take things slowly. It'd be wrong of anyone to expect you to be completely recovered after everything that happened to you."

"Tohru-chan…" Yuki took her hand and pulled her down so her face was hovering just above his. "How did I manage to find perfection in a fiancé?"

"Oh, I'm not all that, I'm just…"

"You are all that. I can always feel when I think of you. I think I'm human because of you."

"Yuki-chan…"

Yuki pulled her arm and the rest of her body down and kissed her. Tohru stiffened for a bit, obviously thinking of the proprieties, and then relaxed and kissed him back.

"Romance!" a thunderous, familiar voice proclaimed, entering the room from already inside the house.

"Oh!" Tohru squealed, straightening up with bone-bending speed, her face becoming a tomato. "I can't believe I…that was so improper…"

"There is nothing improper about fiancées sharing a romantic moment!" Ayame decreed, throwing his hair back over his shoulder. "Funerals serve to remind us that we must live each day to the fullest! Make hay whilst the sun shines! Carpe carpum!"

"Don't you mean, "carpe diem"?" Yuki asked flatly.

"Yes, that too!" Ayame amended without missing a beat. "Tohru-kun, you look lovely, as Little Brother's affianced should!"

"Oh, Ayame-san, it's wrong of me to dress so flatteringly at a funeral…"

"Yes, it is, isn't it?"

A sudden coldness seemed to settle on the room. Tohru could feel Yuki become rigid behind her and stand up. In a few strides he was beside her, holding her arm protectively and possessively.

"Mother. Father," Yuki said curtly, pulling Tohru back slightly.

Tohru mentally digested the appearance of Yuki's parents. Everything about them seemed dark: their hair, their eyes, their clothes, and their sullen faces that bore holes in the skulls of their children. Suddenly she knew why Yuki had never laughed in front of them. As much as it killed her to admit it, she could understand if Yuki had never even smiled in their presence. Something about them frightened her, as badly as Akito had initially frightened her, even, to some extent, more so.

"P-pleased to meet you," Tohru said uncertainly, bowing. "I'm sorry for not properly introducing myself. My name is Honda Tohru."

"Yes, we've heard," Yuki's mother said stiffly. She looked straight at Yuki. "And that's not all we've heard."

"Do you intend to marry her?" the father spoke up, fixing Tohru with a hard, unblinking eye.

"Yes." Yuki's brusque tone, if not his grasp on Tohru's arm, had to soften slightly at the idea of making the woman at his side Sohma Tohru instead of Honda Tohru.

"I don't recall approving the match," the mother spoke again.

"I don't recall asking for your approval," Yuki snapped back. "I am an adult. I make my own decisions, including who I marry."

"Mother, Father," Ayame interrupted uneasily. "I can vouch for Tohru-kun's good character. She's trustworthy. She hasn't betrayed our secret for the past five years, and I doubt she'll do it now."

"I don't care about that, Ayame," the mother said boorishly. "Yuki shouldn't be marrying outside." She spat out the last word like a curse.

"My little brother can marry whomsoever he wants, Mother!" Ayame shouted, and Yuki stared. He had never seen his brother genuinely angry before, but he could visibly observe a level of rage slowly building up inside Ayame.

"We don't need your opinion, Ayame," their father snarled. "We've all seen your choice in…partners."

A long beat of silence suddenly descended upon the room like a collapsed building. Tohru looked shocked beyond belief, her mouth a round "O" of surprise. She could not imagine a parent being like this with their children. Kyoko would have beaten them senseless for acting like this.

"Please, we mustn't…we mustn't fight each other like this at a funeral," Tohru said hesitantly.

"Who's fighting with you?" the father snorted callously. "Who even cares about you?"

"Shut up."

His parents' eyes turned to look at Yuki. His bangs were hiding his eyes and his skin had paled to an unsanitary shade of whiteout. His entire frame was shaking like an autumn leaf in an early-winter wind.

"What did you say?" the woman squawked.

"I said, "shut up"," Yuki elaborated, slow and threatening and sarcastic. "Don't you ever talk to my fiancé or my brother like that again. Dirtbags."

"What did you call us?" his mother screeched, like nails on a chalkboard.

"And for your information," Yuki continued stubbornly,"I care about her. If you were my parents like you always claim to be, you'd respect that. You just can't handle that fact that weak little Yuki found someone who doesn't care if he turns into a rat when she hugs him. You'd have Ayame and me be miserable forever, just to keep up your little Sohma walls of self-pity and superiority complexes. I hope when you die you turn over in your graves knowing that your sons are happy in spite of your best efforts."

The mother stepped forward threateningly, and Ayame did too. The resemblance in their angry mannerisms was uncanny.

"You're not going to marry that thing over there," Anda murmured ominously.

"Yuki is going to marry that "thing"," Ayame put in before Yuki could speak. "She is my future sister-in-law and you will treat her with due respect."

"The last time I checked, we were the parents here, and you don't have the right to tell us what to do, Ayame," Anda shot back.

"Much ado about idiotic things," an aggravated voice muttered, coming into the room from the side door.

"Hatori!" Tohru gasped, seeing the stoic man walk in.

"Do I need to remind you all that you are at a funeral?" Hatori muttered agitatedly. He had barely gotten any sleep the past few weeks while tending Akito's increasing illness. "Kisa and Hiro left when you two came in, and they can hear you from two rooms away."

"Oh, Hatori-san, I'm so sorry, it's completely indecent of us to be arguing like this," Tohru babbled apologetically, miserably.

"I really doubt it's your fault, Tohru-san," Hatori said, rubbing his temples. "Anda, Gen, would you accompany me? If you stay here with your progeny I fear the funeral will be even more disrupted."

"Hatori," Gen hissed. "We have to…"

"You don't have to do anything but mourn," Hatori muttered peevishly, "which is what we're all here to do. Would you please accompany me?"

"Hatori…yes, fine, we will," Anda said, giving in. She shot the three a filthy look and stepped sideways towards Hatori. "Just don't think we're finished discussing this matter, Yuki."

"Oh, I know you'll never shut your mouths about it," Yuki grumbled. "But you don't think that I'm going to dump Tohru-chan because you say so."

Gen flinched at Yuki's words but resolutely seized his wife's arm. "Anda. Let's go."

"Yes."

Hatori lit a cigarette as he left the room, not holding the door back for Anda or Gen. Anda noted this and scoffed at Hatori as they passed, and Hatori shut the door behind him with a barely discernible rolling of the eyes.

"I can't stand those people," Ayame sniffed indignantly, tossing his hair again. "Insufferable as carbon-based life-forms go." He turned around to face Yuki and Tohru.

"Tohru-chan, don't ever be alone with them," Yuki warned, turning her around so they were making eye contact. "They…they're kinda like Hatori. They can't suppress memories, but they can mess with your emotions. Spend enough time with them and they'll make you hate me."

"I could never hate you!" Tohru yelped, clasping Yuki's hand fearfully.

Yuki straightened up so that he was looking at the wall. "They didn't even have to use their powers to make me hate them, so…Tohru-chan, just promise me you'll never be alone with them. Don't let them lead you away from me for any reason. Just stay right next to me the entire time we're here."

"O-okay," Tohru said.

"Good. Thank you." Yuki rested his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her. When he pulled back, he seized her hand and held it tenderly.

"Oh, Ayame-san, thank you for standing up for us," Tohru said gratefully, looking at Yuki's brother.

"Well, Little Brother did mention me when he was fighting with Mother Dear, so I will thank you for that, Yuki," Ayame replied with a flourish.

"Yeah, Ayame, why did you stand up for me?" Yuki asked, eyeing his sibling. "Against our parents, of all people, and especially when you know they'll attack you for Shigure."

"Well, aside from the fact that they're intolerable human beings," Ayame said with bitter humor, still stinging over the snub to his best friend and lover, "because you're my little brother."

"Because you're my little brother."

Yuki stood silently, letting his hand drop from Tohru's. Ayame had been making overblown declaration of his brotherly fondness for five years, but Yuki had never felt them to be serious, as every time Ayame followed them up with some asinine antics that seemed to negate any closeness that was occurring. But Ayame had never said those five words with a completely straight face as he had just now. Ayame's face was warm and solemn, an odd combination in any face, and most especially his.

"Only three men in existence would do that for their brothers, and first among them is me!" Ayame said, smiling, but he was lacking the goofy, hyperactive flouncing that usually accompanied such an affirmation. "What can I say? I love my little brother."

"I love my little brother."

Ayame had never said those words directly to his face, either. Yuki did not know whether it was the funeral or the fact that they were five years since the day Ayame decided he would single-handedly repair their sibling relationship, but something had changed.

"Well, I must be off to find 'Gure-koi," Ayame announced flippantly, as he had taken to calling Shigure. "Tohru-kun, an absolute delight to see you, as always. Yuki, shall I see you at the funeral in…" he looked at his watch "…a half hour?"

"Huh?" Yuki snapped his thoughts back to the physical world. "Oh…yes."

"I must be off to make hay!" Ayame swept from the room with a grand flourish, shutting the door behind him as he shouted across the house, "'Gure-koi!"

Tohru reached for Yuki's hand and held it affectionately. "Ayame really loves you, Yuki."

"Do I…love my brother?" Yuki questioned faintly. Those five words were difficult to pass through his mouth.

Tohru leaned her head on Yuki's shoulder. "Take your time…be yourself."

Five was a very important number to Yuki.