Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket.

"No." Yuki Sohma dropped to his knees on the rain-soaked gravel. "No." His vision blurred as tears welled in his eyes. This was not real. It was not possible. He was not, could not be dead.

"Damn rat," came a raspy voice, "I-I guess this means- you- win. One last time." Beautiful orange eyes closed, never to open again. And Yuki knelt beside that beautiful, hot-headed person, his head bowed, crying silently. How long he stayed like that, he did not know but he became dimly aware of strong but tender hands pulling him up and helping him inside the house. He turned his head and vaguely registered the head of black hair and the bright colors of a kimono. Shigure. The dog's eyes were filmy with tears and he was blinking furiously, as if to hold in the inevitable crying.

"Yuki-kun, you must get yourself inside the house. Hatori'll kill me- if- if," the man's voice cracked horribly, "I- allow you to get sick."

"But Shigure, we can't leave him—in the street." Yuki strained against the grip on his arms and made to go back to the street. It only tightened and forced him around, toward the house.

"No, we cannot. But Hatori will take care of it. He's here, he'll know what to do. Honda-san, please, would you make Yuki a cup of tea? I don't want him getting sick." I don't want him to die. Shigure's voice was the epitome of calm but Yuki could hear just the slightest tremor hidden among the polite words. The wide-eyed girl nodded and disappeared for a moment, coming back with a steaming cup of brown liquid.

"Drink this, S-Sohma-kun." She whispered, handing the teacup to him. "I-it'll w-warm you r-r-riight uup." Her teeth were chattering and her hands were shaking and Yuki looked up to see her eyes filled with sorrow and horror. He realized she must have seen the whole thing, must have witnessed the crash and, knowing her, she was deeply hurt. But she was also smiling, for his sake. There was no happiness in her smile.

"No, Tohru-chan. Cry. It- it helps at times like these." He moved his gaze back to the teacup and closed his eyes, willing this nightmare to be over. But in his heart, he knew that there would be no waking up, no relief from the grief and agony that he was feeling. Tohru wrapped a blanket around his shaking shoulders and wiped the tears from his face, the tears that dropped into his teacup, turning the sweet tea salty. "It hurts. Right here." He whispered raggedly to her, pressing a fist to his chest. "It feels like a knife stabbing me. Over and o-" he dissolved into tears, unable to say anymore. He could not breathe, could not think, could not feel.

"Oh, Sohma-kun," she held him to her and he turned and buried his face into the small hollow next to her neck, "it hurts all of us." They stayed that way for a while, the warmth that emanated from their bodies a comfort for the other.

Two weeks later...

An icy breeze swept through the cemetery, chilling everyone in its path. Everyone shivered everyone but Yuki, who was standing at the foot of the grave. He looked to be made of stone; he wasn't moving, was barely breathing, his features were hardened in a sad expression of love and grief. He couldn't feel the frosty bite of winter, nor the snow that fell from the heavens and blanketed the earth. All he knew was the deadness he felt inside, the pain that stabbed his heart when he thought of his orange-haired counterpart. He allowed the tears to come; he was too tired to stay them. They rolled down his cheeks and fell to the ground, making small holes in the snow.

"Come, Yuki-kun. We should go home now." Shigure grasped his younger cousin's shoulders. Yuki shrugged off the warm hands and turned from the grave to head back to Hatori's car. He looked back one last time, sorrowful purple eyes watching the snow-covered grave until it disappeared from sight.

Back at Shigure's house, he walked in a daze, his slender fingers running across the walls. He wandered around the house, not having a particular destination in mind when he passed by a room with an open door. A sob rose up in his throat but, with some difficulty, he choked it back down and entered the room swiftly and silently.

It was fairly bare with a bed, a dresser, a bookshelf and a desk piled with books and papers. The bed was unmade and Yuki could still see the small impression where its occupant last lay. His lip quivered and once again, he was forced to try, however unsuccessfully, to keep in the cries that he so longed to let out. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he crept over to the bed and smoothed out the pillow before he crawled in. He pulled the covers over the bottom half of his face so only his eyes showed and breathed in the smell of him. Of Kyo. That orange-haired, foul-tempered cat Jyuunichi. He lay in Kyo's bed, breathing deeply through his nose, inhaling the smell that clung to Kyo and hung, thick and intoxicating, in the atmosphere of the room.

Closing his eyes, he silently wept for the thing he wanted most and the thing that would never be. Stay with me, please. I need you. Be there for me. He begged in his head. I don't know what to do without you. Eventually, the stream of tears slowed and Yuki Sohma, curled up in Kyo Sohma's bed, drifted off into sleep where his dreams were dark and full of pain.

A/N: Next chapter is Kyo's POV even though he's dead. It's not very long but next chapter will be a lot longer. As always, please review. I live for feedback.