Itsumo- Always

Chapter One

The thin line between life and death

20 November 2005

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Fruits Basket! Such a cute story… But no… I do own the Kohakus and the new generation Sohmas though.

The blood splattered across the polished wooden floor, like the tired petals of a wilted cherry blossom flower slowly dancing towards the ground, towards death. But Akito was already dead, the blade that had killed her still held in her murderer's trembling hand. Akito was like the wilted cherry blossom flower, and Hiroji was the cold winter frost, just setting in. It was his turn, his time to reign, as the new Head of the Sohma Family.

He grinned wickedly and looked over at his sister Shiori, whom he had made to witness the horrid event. She had backed into a corner of the gloomy room, as far as she possibly could. Tears were streaming down her oddly colored eyes, creating little trails of water down her cheeks and neck and soaked into the front of her white sundress.

The God slowly sauntered over to the silver haired nezumi, on side of his kimono sliding off of his pale, slender shoulder. As he knelt down before her, he didn't bother to pull it back up, choosing instead to cup the side of her face in one hand. Shiori stopped crying, the she refused to look at him, her one blue, one green eye flitting everywhere else.

"Look at me." He commanded, his thin, bony hand under her chin now, lifting her face up to meet his own. Immediately she did, years of experience telling her not to disobey him. She sniffed once to clear her stuffy nose, hoping he wouldn't see that as rudeness. He didn't, and she wanted to sigh with relief. But he WOULD see that as rude, and she held it in, not wanting to suffer the consequences during his murderous mood.

"Yes, Hiroji-sama?" Her voice was light and weak from nerves, though not once would she allow it to crack. Hiroji smiled, though not sincerely, happy that this girl knew that he was the boss, and treated him so. She tried not to look at Akito's crumpled body; her yukata already soaked with her blood.

"That could be you…" He let his words trail off, referring to the former God. Taking the blade, he placed the flat part against the neckline of Shiori's dress, dragging it across and leaving a trail of blood that led down to her stomach. He then flung the blade towards Akito, missing horribly, though he didn't care. "Just like her."

Shiori shivered, wondering if he was planning to kill her as well. The atmosphere was becoming violent now, and her face quivered in his hands. It didn't last long though, for there was someone banging on the door that had kept her locked in.

"Shi'ri-chan!" Kohaku the usagi called, closely followed by the ryo, Shigeru. "Daijoubu!" Kohaku had always looked up to the nezumi, and was immediately panicked by all of the blood. Shigeru held a screaming Hiroji back as Kohaku helped her to the door. All the while, the God was yelling for her to come back, fighting and struggling against Shigeru.

At first, Shiori thought that it was just her and Kohaku. Everything seemed to go by in a blur; the rain pelting down hard and blinding their vision as they ran hand-in-hand towards the nezumi's house. It was almost as if the skies themselves were crying over the tragedies that had occurred earlier.

A lanky, tall thin figure stood on her porch, unlocking her door. Shiori panicked, thinking that it was Hiroji. But it was Satoru who bounded down the stairs towards her and latched on, her blood-soaked dress clenched tightly between his fists. Tears ran down her face once more as she stood on her tiptoes; her arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

"Shiori, Shiori…" He whispered, his voice deep yet soft. Satoru's fingers raked themselves through her long silver hair in an attempt to comfort her. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat with a melancholy kind of happiness.

"Everyone was so worried about you after Hiroji locked you up in there…" He said, letting go of her. "Are you okay?" Shiori nodded mutely, words would not come as she held onto one of his hands.

"Let's go inside…" She said, starting to get soaked from the rain. The nezumi turned around to invite Kohaku in as well, but the usagi was already gone. Shiori hoped that Kohaku's feelings hadn't been hurt as she opened the door and steeped inside.

It was gloomy in her house, almost as gloomy as the room that she had been locked in. Quickly, she flicked the light on; stepping out of her shoes as the light filled the room. The two of them sat down on the couch; Shiori's back against Satoru's chest. His arms were rested on her stomach, hands intertwined with her own. The rain came down more slowly, and a sense of peace surrounded the nezumi.

The two of them stayed like that for a long time, neither of them speaking. It had been the worst day of her life, other than the day she was born, but she was in the most peaceful mood that she had ever been in.

"How's the rock star life going?" She asked, being the first to break the silence as she smiled softly. He grinned as well. Ever since he had been given that record deal, things had been going great.

"It's so awesome!" The oushi exclaimed. "Hisui and Hotaru have been hanging around quite often. I think that Hotchan's jealous of you…"

Shiori shot up and turned to look at him, an angry look drawn on her expression. "Are you cheating on me!" She demanded, having taken it the wrong way. Satoru's eyes widened, understanding his words.

"No, I love you, only you!" He said, putting a hand on her head and ruffling her long silver hair. "All the time, she's talking about how pretty she thinks you are! You know what she told me one time? She said: Shiori should be the famous model, not me… She may as well be the prettiest girl in the entire Sohma family!"

The nezumi grinned; never before had she received such a wonderful compliment. "Maybe so…" She joked, though she herself didn't believe it. Shiori was too short to even be a model; they were all so tall.

The nezumi leaned back, not caring about being a model anyways. Her dream was to become a singer. She figured that she sang well; earlier she had auditioned for the most prestigious choir at her school and had gotten in. Her teacher had suggested that she audition for college choir as well. It had been considered, but in the end she had decided against it, not wanting to push what little freedom had been given to her by her mother and Hiroji. Who, as she was being thought of, just so happened to be walking in the door.

"What's this?" She said, wagging an indignant finger at the two. Kazuki had strict rules about everything, just like Hiroji, and one of them was 'No displays of affection, anywhere.' Satoru and Shiori shot up quickly, not wanting to provoke her anger. "You know I have rules in this house, Shiori, and I won't have you ruining our image by hanging all over Satoru-san."

The oushi's emotionless face turned into a frown, angered that she would speak to her daughter in such a manner. His back straightened as he sized her up, though her resolve flickered never once.

"We love each other, Miss Sohma." He began, letting his posture fall into an easier stance. "And I'm not paying her to be my girlfriend, if that's what you're suggesting. All we were doing was snuggling… Is that so wrong? I know you don't like affection, Miss, but how can you bar your only daughter from doing what you, yourself, want the most?"

Kazuki snorted indignantly, pushing a strand of her short gray hair behind her ear. "I don't want any such thing! Whatever gave you such a ridiculous idea?" Satoru shrugged.

"Your eyes gave me the ridiculous idea."

The older woman chuckled, waving to the door where two male servants appeared, grabbing onto his arms in a hurry to 'escort' him out. "Go back to the condo you share with Hisui-san and Hotaru-san. Shiori and I have plans for tonight." Shiori sent him a sideways glance as her mother pulled her into a room out of sight; her mind still reeling with the words spoken just a second ago.

She tossed the beautiful purple-silvery flag into the air, her chest heaving with breathlessness as she caught it, throwing it down to end that part of the dance. The performance that night had been wonderful, sending the audience into a standing ovation. The rest of the dancers ran to get their flags and sabres, but Natsume stood right where she was, ready to perform her final dance solo.

The music began; the soft piccolos and flutes seemed to wrap their sound around her; seemed to make her dance. She drew her arms across her body, plieing once and still with her leg bent, brought on hand and one leg up, both reaching behind her. Bending backwards, she touched the tip of her show with one finger and spun slowly in a circle, giving the effect of a wind up ballerina in a music box.

The crowd roared, after all, Natsume was the star dancer. Too bad it would be her last; tears sparkling down her heavily make-upped face though no one could see her do so.

The solo was short and over quickly, and as the rest of the dancers ran to their places on the field, she danced off, in a way that seemed like she was teasing the crowd.

The glory was short lived, and she sank down in her seat off the field, tears running down like rivers on her face. No one came to comfort her though, for no one would touch a 'slut.' Earlier that month, she had slept with her boyfriend, whom she loved dearly. The two of them had made plans to get married to each other, but it didn't work out.

They had been involved in a terrible car accident, and he had died of blood loss. Natsume had been badly injured, though she survived. She had been devastated and did nothing but cry for the next for days on end. It was several weeks later that she began to throw up and feel nauseous. The pregnancy test that she had secretly bought read positive, to both her horror and delight.

Of course, her older sister Akio had gone out of her way to share the news throughout the gossips of Kawaia High. It spread like a disease, and soon everyone knew. Even the people she had thought to be her friends ignored and teased her.

Her dance teacher was reluctant to let her go, but in the end, he knew that he had to. Natsume was sad as well, but she would never do anything to possibly hurt her child. Eisuke's child. She even had a name picked out. Should he be a boy, which was what she wanted, he would take his father's name. If it were a girl, her name would be Koru. A fearless leader.

"Natsume!" Someone called from the crowd. Drying her tears quickly, she looked up to see her twin Tomoe and her younger brother Mitsuru making their way through the crowd towards her. Mitsuru had a new girlfriend with him, the second one this month. They were all grinning down at her and she trekked up the steps to meet with them. Tomoe gave a whoop as Natsume reached out to her, both embracing. Natsume loved her brothers and sister, save for Akio who tried to make her life miserable. The girl wondered where the eldest brother Shunnosuke was, guessing that he was making wedding plans with his longtime fiancee Amaya.

She was one of the few outsiders who knew of the curse, and held the secret well. The curse of touch that plagued the Kohaku Family, not allowing them to touch members of the opposite sex, save for those in the family. They would change into animals, or the place that had come into contact with someone else would feel as if it were burning. A very sad curse, but Amaya had learned to be careful.

Her responsibilities as a dancer officially over, she went over to hug the shorter Mitsuru, who lifted her up to spin her around. "Nice going, Sasha!" He chided, calling her by her English name. She grinned brightly, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly to keep from flying off.

"Let go!" She chuckled, smacking him on the head lightly. He did so and ruffled her tightly bunned hair, some strands coming loose. Tomoe reached over to hug her once more.

"Awesome job, Natsu-chan!" She exclaimed. "That was beautiful!"

"Mmm…" She nodded, raising one hand up to yawn gently. "Let's go home, I'm exhausted." They all agreed, including Mitsuru's little girlfriend, who was one of Akio's good friends. Hanabi was her name, or something similar. She wasn't as strikingly beautiful as Akio, but she was pretty. Hopefully their personalities were different as well.

"Yoshiyoyo!" Tomoe called, and everyone turned around to see the black haired guy come running down towards them all. Their gloved hands met and clasped together as they stood side by side, lovesick looks warming their chilled faces. It was freezing out, and Natsume, who was still in her dance uniform, had begun to shiver violently.

Mitsuru pulled off his jacket and placed it across Natsume's shoulders, who pulled it closer towards herself gratefully. None of them really liked football, so it was a good excuse to leave.

A/N: I hope you guys like it! It's depressing, yes, but it makes for good suspense, and catches the reader's attention. Please tell me what you think!

-Kimi-chan!