Author's Note: I'm going to be posting the rest of the story, despite the fact that nobody seems all that interested in reading this. I hope I didn't scare everyone away with the summary. --;

I'm assuming that maybe, due to the fact that there was a lot of unknown elements, some people were confused by the last chapter. To help alleviate any confusion anyone who reads this might have, I'll be posting the entire story this time.

I'd really appreciate a review, even if you don't enjoy everything about the story.

For chronological purposes, this chapter is set sometime in the Heian Period, and traces the origins of the Sohma family's curse. (Also, I will say out right that some elements of this chapter were inspired by Ina-chan's work. However, I did not copy it.)

Chapter Summary: By his elder brother's order, Yasuhiko Sohma had been married to Tomoe, the woman captured during the battle for the Hamada clan's lands. However, the feud between the clans was far from over. With the coming of a new spring came a renewed thirst for vengeance...

Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Baskets or its characters. However, I do own all of the original characters included herein.

Leaves

Part 3: Wakame

It was a cool spring night, the first of its kind for the year. The trees were only beginning to bud. Spring had always been Yasuhiko Sohma's favorite time of year, but he had begun to dread its approach, for it always seemed to signal the beginning of a new series of battles the family was forced to endure so that they could maintain the borders their territory.

Not that Yasuhiko had ever been party to any sort of territorial battles himself, though he had been involved in a few skirmishes with the local rice farmers who attempted to rise up against the family. As the youngest son of the late Toshihiko Sohma, the former clan leader, he had been shielded from public view for most of his life. And though he had been trained as a samurai, only those of lesser rank were expected to battle against invaders and rival clans.

It had also never been in Yasuhiko's nature to be a warrior. He truthfully despised anything that even hinted at combat; he would much rather be indoors, writing poetry, than practicing mortal combat with his cousins. His only real escape was spending time with Satoru, a born scholar who constantly tried to apply his favorite fairytales to life, and probably the closest thing the young man had to a true confidant.

Perhaps it was better to have been born into his current lot, mused Yasuhiko with a wry smile. For all of the formality that he despised, he did not know if he would have been able to stand preparing for battle every spring with Masakazu and Hidetora. As it was, he was often asked by some of his older cousins to aid in planning battle strategies; for all that he hated combat, Yasuhiko had a brilliant tactical imagination—even Akahito looked to him for guidance in certain situations.

Yasuhiko had never had problems in dealing with people for the most part. He always made an effort to be personable, and earned the respect of nearly everyone who came into contact with him; Satoru had once said that he would probably do just as well in the position of clan head, if not better than, his brother. However, the young man was glad that he had not inherited the mantle of his father's station; in his opinion, his elder brother was far better suited to the task of leading the Sohma clan.

Akahito was everything a leader should have been: gentle, levelheaded, honorable, and charismatic. Yasuhiko was none of these things; he had a difficult time envisioning himself doing something for another person if it meant putting himself in danger, would manipulate others to gain whatever he wanted, and often caught himself scorning those below his status—even Masakazu and Hidetora, at times. His brother was a much better heir than he ever would have been.

There had only been one instance in which Yasuhiko had ever questioned his brother's judgment…

"Yasuhiko?" said a voice behind him, startling the man into glancing back. He saw Hidetora standing behind him with a curious expression. "What are you doing out here so late?"

The other young man released a taut breath and glanced up at the stars. "I was just thinking, Hidetora…"

"About what?" the older man wanted to know.

Yasuhiko briefly glanced at his cousin, a slight smile flitting across his face. Hidetora had once been as close to him as his own brother, but when their formal training for their respective stations in life began they had started to drift apart; with his distaste for all things associated with war, Yasuhiko had sought refuge in the prose of literature while Hidetora had grown closer to Masakazu as they faced the horrors of battle together. Despite the chasm that had formed between them, he still had a special affection for the older man that seemed to be mutual sometimes.

Then he briefly closed his eyes and murmured, "Nothing, really. Mostly about how I hate the coming of spring."

The black-haired man frowned deeply. "Hate spring? Yahiko," he said, invoking a childhood nickname, "you used to love spring. Why the change of heart?"

Yasuhiko gazed at his cousin wearily. "I've learned that spring means the coming of new battles, more senseless bloodshed, all in the name of maintaining the borders of our territory. I hate it all, Hide; I hate anything that can be associated with death."

"Most people would associate spring with new life," commented Hidetora dryly. "You're the only person I know who would readily see a correlation between spring and death, Yahiko."

"How can you, of all people, say that, Hidetora?" demanded the clan head's brother, a surge of anger filling him. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at the other man. "You know better than anyone that spring means a return to battle, and battle means death! Everyone must know it—but they all act as if it doesn't. How can you all be so naïve?"

Unexpectedly, he saw a change in his cousin's demeanor. The normally laidback Hidetora's eyes suddenly hardened and he reached out, grabbing the other man's kimono collar. In a low voice he demanded, "How can you be so shallow?"

Blinking, Yasuhiko faltered. "W-what do you mean?"

Hidetora glowered at the younger man and said, "Do you think you're the only one who knows spring means new, more intense battles? Don't you think it bothers the rest of us, too?" Yasuhiko could only stammer unintelligibly as the older man growled and tightened his grip on his collar. "Dwelling on the fact isn't going to change it, Yasuhiko. We try to make the best of what's here for us now. You're the one who's naïve, always sulking about war."

Hidetora released his cousin's collar then, but continued to gaze at him disdainfully. "Your mother spoiled you, Yahiko, and Satoru-jichan indulges you too often. Maybe taking part in a real battle would do you good. You might earn some respect for those of us who fight in your name and Akahito-dono's. And maybe you would learn to appreciate the spoils of war more than you do." (The reverence used with his brother's name was not something lost on the younger man as an insult.)

Yasuhiko flinched at the not-so-subtle reference. Then he narrowed his eyes and said, "I would appreciate it if you didn't bring my wife into this."

The black-haired man snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tomoe-chan deserves better than a spoiled brat like you, Yahiko. I'll never understand why Akahito-dono had you marry her."

"For once, we're in agreement," muttered the blue-black-haired man bitterly. "I don't know, either. Akato must have been suffering from a lapse in lucidity at the time…"

Hidetora's expression softened. However, he turned to look away before Yasuhiko could see it as he quietly said, "No, Akahito-dono knew exactly what it was doing, Yasuhiko. He knew that many of the people we conquered last year still respect the Hamada family; having you marry Tomoe-chan cemented the integration of their lands with our own."

Yasuhiko didn't see the slight smile on his kinsman's face as he added, "And she seems to love you despite the fact that you are a spoiled brat."

The Sohma clan head's brother couldn't help smiling as well. It had been almost eighteen months since the Sohmas had conquered the lands that had once belonged to the Hamada clan and captured the "swirled jewel" of the family, the girl many had reverently called "Tomoe-no-Tama-Hime." Though she was perhaps not as beautiful as the legendary Princess Kaguya, the beauty of her soul more than made up for any lacking in physical attractiveness.

Unlike many of the other daughters of samurai lords Yasuhiko had met, Tomoe had never been particularly vain, and always went out of her way to show everyone kindness. And unlike his own brand of false compassion, hers was real. For that reason alone, he could have loved her, but there were so many other aspects of her personality—all of them wonderful—that he found appealing. It was impossible not to love her, he mused.

Everyone loves Tomoe, thought Yasuhiko. Even the more aloof members of the Sohma family—like Hayato and Kazuki—were slowly being won over by her thoughtfulness and munificent nature. She was also surprisingly shrewd when she wanted to be; armed with anecdotes from her beloved mother, she almost always knew what to say and when to say it.

It had been a little over a year since he had married Tomoe, and in that time she had expressed very little regret when it came to their marriage. That had been a pleasant surprise to all of the Sohmas, the fact that she bore them no resentment despite the fact that she had originally been taken as a spoil of war. It had puzzled Yasuhiko to no end, but he had come to accept the fact that she seemed generally happy with her life now.

The only time he had ever seen her look sad was when she talked about her elder brother, the Hamada clan "fire prince" (so nicknamed for his passionate nature and violent temper). However, as the topic created an uncomfortable atmosphere, it was generally avoided in conversations.

Yasuhiko saw Hidetora suddenly turn a bit to look at someone else who was approaching. He smirked slightly and murmured, "Speak of the devil…"

The younger man turned a bit to see his wife approaching, a worried look on her face as she called out to the two men. "Yasuhiko! Hidetora-san!"

"Tomoe," said her husband with an anxious expression of his own. He gently clasped her hands as she neared him. "Is something the matter?"

Her apprehension did not vanish. "I had a nightmare, and…when I woke…and you weren't there…"

Yasuhiko tightened his grip on her hands. He knew that she had been having trouble sleeping as of late, claiming that she had dreams about finding him lying in a pool of his own blood; it was all he could do to reassure her that he was still with her as she woke from her fitful slumber. The details of her description often sent chills down his spine, despite the fact that he did not believe it would happen.

In a rare display of affection, the young man drew his wife to him and smoothed a lengthy brown curl from her face and kissed her temple. "It was just a dream, Tomoe. Nothing happened. I'm fine. Go back to bed."

The woman did not appear convinced as he drew away to gaze down at her. "Yasuhiko…" she started to argue.

Instead of allowing her to finish, he turned to Hidetora. "Hide, would you mind escorting Tomoe back to the house?"

"Of course." Hidetora turned to Tomoe. "C'mon, Tomoe-chan. Let's leave Yahiko to brood over his revulsion for combat a while longer."

"But Hidetora-san…" Tomoe fumbled a bit as he gently drew her along with him. She cast one final glance at her husband and whispered, "Please hurry, Yasuhiko…"

He offered her a slight smile. "I'll be along in a few minutes, Tomoe…" Then he watched his older cousin lead the young woman away.

Tomoe was such a kind person, Yasuhiko didn't know how she could possibly love someone like him. He briefly closed his eyes and murmured, "I don't deserve someone like her…"

"You're right," interjected another voice, causing his eyes to fly open. An unfamiliar man with light brown hair stood before him, his face twisted into a mask of rage as he added, "You don't deserve Tomoe-chan!"

Panic froze the dark-haired young man as he saw the other man brandishing a katana. He could only gasp as the man dressed in black advanced on him, holding his blade in an offensive stance. "W-who are you?"

"You killed my father to gain our lands, yet you know nothing of the person whose territory you stole?" The young man laughed derisively. "You really are stupid, aren't you, Sohma-kou?"

Yasuhiko's eyes widened in fear as he realized that this person was mistaking him for his brother and he retreated a step. "I—"

"Shut up!" snarled the other man before he could even begin to speak. "You stole everything that was precious to me, Sohma-kou—the lands I stood to inherit, the loyalty of my people, but most importantly—"

His blade arced through the air, the tip digging into Yasuhiko's throat. His deep brown eyes seemed to glow crimson in the light of the full moon as he hissed, "You stole Tomoe-chan!"

The dark-haired man inhaled sharply as the connection was made in his brain. The Fire Prince!

"What's going on here?" demanded a familiar voice as both men to turn slightly. Yasuhiko had never been as relieved to see Masakazu, Atsumori, or Kawanari. All of his cousins reached for their weapons when they saw their clan head's younger brother with a blade held to his throat.

The stranger glanced frantically as he saw others beginning to gather in the courtyard; they were starting to attract a crowd. Refusing to be intimidated after having come this far, though, he immediately grabbed his captive and held the sharp side of his katana to the man's throat as he glared at the newcomers. "Take another step, and your master dies, Sohma dogs!"

Young Atsumori glowered and prepared to draw his sword despite. Only a look from Hayato, the man he admired most, could stop him. Even Kawanari—the bold Sohma "tiger"—hesitated with the knowledge that the stranger would not hesitate for a moment to end Yasuhiko's life.

Despite the stranger's order, one young girl stepped forward. She was perhaps fourteen, and her face was a solemn mask as she approached him. The stranger drew the sword harder against Yasuhiko's neck, causing him to swallow uncomfortably, and he wondered briefly who this foolish child was.

"Kimie, get back!" hissed Masakazu anxiously.

Kimie ignored the order. Instead, she stopped only a few feet away from the stranger and softly asked, "What do you want from us?"

The light-haired stranger was startled by her request, but not for long. He chuckled cynically before the sound became a peal of insane laughter. "What do I want! You have the nerve to ask me that, little girl, after everything your family has done to me!"

He glared accusingly at the eleven onlookers before he gestured to his hostage. "This man—your master—had the gall to presume he could steal from the Hamada clan without retribution! He had you damn dogs destroy my family, murdering everyone I loved before my eyes—all but one… And he stole her and married her himself, so that he could remind her daily of how he had become her master as well!"

"No!" cried Kimie, eyes wide in horror. "Tomoe-neesan did not—"

"Shut up!" the man shouted, silencing her protests. He glanced at the helpless bystanders again, tightening his grip on his captive. "You Sohmas destroyed everything I've ever held dear—and so, now, I shall destroy the thing most precious to you—your master!"

With those words, the stranger withdrew his blade from his hostage's throat. All of those who had been held off by his threat were suddenly thrust into action, but too late—he had slit his captive's belly. The man watched with no small amount of satisfaction as the man he hated more than anyone else fell to his knees, gasping in pain as he grasped at his abdomen in a futile attempt to stop the blood flow.

Then he turned to look at each of the onlookers and barked, "As long as there is yet a Sohma living, none of you will ever know the joy of true happiness, or hold those you love in your arms! Until your blood is wiped from the face of the Earth, you will continue to pay for your misdeeds against the Hamada clan!"

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded a familiar voice. The crowd of eleven parted slightly, and the light-haired man turned to see the glaring face of the man he had just maimed staring back at him. His steely eyes widened as he took in the sight of the man on the ground and he was instantly at his side. "YASUHIKO!"

The fair-haired man watched in horror as his victim drew in a deep breath and whispered, "It…hurts…Akato…"

"Yasuhiko, no…" whispered the other man, his head shaking in disbelief.

"I guess…I'm not a very good fighter, eh, Niichan…?" Yasuhiko attempted to smile weakly at his brother, but then he doubled over in pain.

His brother! thought stranger, agape. No…

"Don't talk!" ordered Akahito gently, pulling the younger man into his arms.

Despite the command, Yasuhiko licked his lips and murmured, "I'm sorry, Niichan… I couldn't…defend myself…and now…I'm going to die for it…"

Fear gripped Akahito's heart at his brother's words. He refused to consider the possibility of losing the person he loved most. "Don't say things like that…!"

The stranger watched helplessly as he realized the magnitude of his mistake. However, none of that seemed to matter as he suddenly heard a soft voice inquire, "Aniue…?"

Keita Hamada turned slowly—painfully so—to see the face of his beloved sister gazing at him in horror. His jaw worked itself up and down before he whispered, "Tomoe-chan, I…" No words would ever make it right again.

"You did this, didn't you?" ground the voice of Akahito Sohma, startling everyone into looking at him. Yasuhiko had passed out in his brother's lap from the pain, and Akahito's eyes reflected rage. "You condemned him to death!"

Keita watched as Tomoe attempted to move toward them as she whispered, "Akahito-dono—!"

The look the clan head gave her stopped her. It was a look of such hatred that she felt a chill race down her spine. His dark gray eyes narrowed as he hissed, "I should have had you killed along with the rest of your family! Because of you, everything is ruined! You destroyed my happiness, and so I shall destroy yours! If ever we should meet again, Tomoe Hamada, I will destroy you! As the sun sets on our eighteenth summer together, I will kill you!"

Tears raced down Tomoe's face as she shook her head in denial before falling to her knees, dissolving into tears. That was the last thing Keita could clearly remember before he began to sway on his feet and collapsed.

When he woke again, it was to the sound of a soft feminine voice humming an unfamiliar tune. His eyelids slowly fluttered open and he glanced around at strange surroundings. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the humming stopped and a young woman stepped into his line of vision—the same girl who had approached him as he attempted to exact his revenge on the Sohma clan head.

The dark-haired girl smiled faintly at him as she quietly said, "Good, you're awake. I was beginning to worry you would be asleep forever."

"Where am I?" he croaked. His throat was parched and his voice scratchy.

The girl—Kimie, if he remembered correctly—ladled water into a small bowl before handing it to him; he greedily gulped it as she told him, "You're at the Sohma honke."

Keita nearly spat the water back out. Coughing, he stared at her in disbelief. "What? Why!"

There was a pained look in her gray eyes. "Because Akahito-dono has decided to spare your life, even though you killed Yasuhiko-dono."

"He felt it would serve as a better fate than death," added another voice, causing both of Keita and Kimie to look toward the doorway. A young man with black hair, impossibly streaked with white stripes, stood there, giving Keita the blackest glare he had ever received.

"Hidetora-san," said the girl reproachfully.

The older man—Hidetora—ignored her as he continued to fix Keita with a glare. "It's because of you that all of this happened. You've condemned us all—including yourself…"

Keita narrowed his eyes. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

A sardonic smirk overtook the older man's features, twisting them. "You shattered the infrastructure of the Sohma family by killing an innocent man, Hamada-kou." (Keita didn't miss scathing use of a title reserved for the highest order of respect.) "You've managed to destroy our leader's sanity and orphan a helpless child through whose veins your blood runs."

The younger man's eyes widened as he stammered incoherently. Hidetora laughed humorlessly and nodded. "That's right. Yahiko and Tomoe-chan had a child—your own nephew. Shinya-chan really is a beautiful child; it only too bad that he's going to be raised by people other than his parents."

"Tomoe-neesan couldn't handle Yasuhiko-dono's death," added Kimie, causing Keita to look at him. "She committed suicide…"

Keita shook his head in denial. No. After all that he had gone through, all of it in an attempt to get his sister back, he had failed.

"But Akahito-dono knew you would miss her—so he made provisions to ensure that she would always be with you…" Hidetora went on.

It was then that Keita noticed an unfamiliar weight on his left wrist. Glancing down, he saw that a bracelet had been placed on it. He frowned as he noticed the colors of the beads: deep scarlet and polished ivory…

"After all, you went through so much trouble trying to get her back. He thought you should have the privilege of always being in her company," the white-haired man told him. "So he had a powerful priest create a special gift for you to remember her by…"

"Hidetora-san!" hissed Kimie angrily.

Hidetora finished despite her warning. "From her blood and bones…"

Keita's eyes widened in horror as he finally comprehended the meaning of the man's words. He gingerly touched the beads on his wrist and whispered, "Tomoe…chan…?"

It was then that the "fire prince" of the Hamada clan felt his grip on reality finally slipping away. Clutching at his head, he collapsed and began to cry out for his beloved little sister.