A Forgotten Promise
Disclaimer: I do not now or will ever own Fruits Basket.
Prologue
My name is Tohru Honda. I recently turned twenty-one this year, but my birthday kind
of seemed bitter sweet. Sure I'm of age to fully take over my Aunt's cafe, but I can't seemed to be fully
happy with out them here. Its been just a little over three years since I left them back in Japan and came here to the America's to work for
my Aunt.
Flashback...
"So what a long loss Aunt comes out of no where and wants to take you to the America's to take over her business, and your just
going without a second thought!" Kyo yelled.
Tohru simply nodded, not knowing how to explain what the real reason was for having to leave so suddenly.
"What about us, don't we matter?" Kyo continued to yell.
"Shut up baka neko. Can't you see how this is tearing her up inside? But this is just something she has to do for herself. So stop
being so selfish." Yuki said, though he understood the cat's anger, frustration and pain.
"I'm so sorry for doing this to you two, I...please know I care about you two very much. I have one last thing to ask of you two
before I go..." she paused for moment trying to collect herself before she lost her nerve. "Promise me no matter what that you'll
stay close to each other and most importantly. Forget about me it will be easier that way." She turned as she walked away as tears
streamed down her face and her heart broke. They would never know that the real reason she was going with her aunt was to
protect them from Akito's wraith if she stayed.
End Flashback
But all the memories still remain fresh in mind good and bad, and I miss them terribly. I wonder if they miss me to...I wonder if they knew
how much I love them. It doesn't seem to matter now. Tomorrow I take over my Aunt's cafe and finally start my life..alone...
Author's Note:
I know this was a little short but it was only the prologue after all. Let me know what you think, I already have the next 5 chapters done, so soon as I get a few reviews I'll post the next chapter.
