Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket in any way, shape or form.
A/N: This is easily my longest one-shot and my first Fruits Basket fanfic. I was inspired by a MADD assembly I had the honor of attending last Friday. This is dedicated to anyone who has ever lost a loved one due to drunk driving. I don't know what good it will do, but I hope this helps you realize how deadly D.D. is, as well as drinking in general, if you weren't aware already.
Inspiration Music: "Scars" - Papa Roach
Only Yesterday
"There is a reason Shigure does not have his license," Aayame calmly stated, the mug of tea warm between his hands. "A reason that smile of his never quite reaches his eyes."
"Why is that, Aaya-san?" Momijii asked curiously, leaning up against Hatsuharu. The ox in question was seated in the middle of the couch, Yuki on his other side, Kisa curled into a small ball on his lap, Hiro leaning up against his legs. Kyo was stretched in an armchair nearby, his interest obvious despite his attempts to hide it. Tohru sat on the floor near Kyo's chair, his fingers stretched just far enough to brush the top of her head. Hatori was seated on the love seat beside Aayame; ordinarily the snake would have commented, but he knew now was not the time.
"For the same reason Hiro and Kisa are so much younger than all of you," the dragon said. Hiro frowned, longing to protest that he was not so much younger, but bit his tongue; he too sensed that there was more to be said. Outside the rain plummeted the ground from overcast skies above, merciless and unrelenting. In the next room Shigure was only dimly aware of his family talking.
It was October sixth. Twelve years had passed and yet the dog remembered it as if it had happened only yesterday. Hatori and Aayame aside, the other cursed would not remember; Akito had seen to that. Perhaps it was better this way.
The bottle smashed against the wall, the brown liquid slowly slipping down to the floor. Shigure watched with strange fascination, trying to escape reality, trying to forget.
But no matter how hard he tried, the pain was still there and always would be.
In the eerie silence that only a test could bring about, the bell was earsplitting to the students in the classroom. Twenty scratching pencils came to a sudden halt, followed by their clattering against the desks. Chairs scooted back, scratch paper was crumpled and over the low murmur of relief the teacher at the front of the room instructed students to place their finished tests on his desk.
Among the mass of students, three boys conversed by themselves, standing off to the side of the crowd. Any student could have told you their names, age and year; popular among even the upperclassmen, they really were beautiful people.
They were Sohmas.
The tallest of the three had silver hair that fell just past his shoulders, glittering yellow eyes that were lit in a constant display of excitement. The other two, fairly even in height, did not have the same unusual looks as their friend but were handsome all the same. One had brown hair and eyes, his expression a mix of annoyance and slight bemusement. The second had black hair and striking chocolate eyes. There was a relaxed and dangerous air about him even as he laughed.
"My hand is cramped," the first complained, rubbing his hand, lips protruded in a slight pout. "Haa-san, you're the doctor; you do something!"
"That's doctor-in-training," the second corrected, shaking his head. "And I can't do anything about it, anyway." The third opened his mouth to comment, only to be cut off by the teacher calling his name.
"Shigure, if I could see you for a moment, please." Shigure shrugged and waltzed over, his gait lazy and sure. "Shigure, I understand your studies have been slipping."
"Your point?" He lifted an eyebrow, hands clasped behind his back like an obedient child.
"My point being that you should spend more time studying than going to parties."
"How do you know I go to parties and don't study?"
"One, because I've had students inform me, two, because I've had numerous phone calls with your parents and three, because your grades are absolutely awful." The teacher sighed and Shigure scratched behind his right ear, eyes wandering to the colorful posters pinned on the wall above the blackboard. "You're a smart boy, Shigure, if you would just apply yourself you'd do so well."
"Maybe that's my problem," Shigure cooly retorted. "Maybe I'm too smart for your little system; there's no point in good grades if twenty years from now no one's going to give a shit."
"Language, Mr. Sohma," the teacher said stiffly. He sighed. "Look, your writing is wonderful, some of the best I've ever seen. If you would just work on your other subjects, you wouldn't have a D average. I'll I'm saying is give it a thought."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Shigure grumbled, turning with an airy wave of his hand. "S'not like I haven't heard this before."
"Oh, and Shigure?" The teenager paused. "I already called your parents about the month of detention you earned this morning. Be prepared when you go home."
Shigure let out a mild groan of frustration as he tromped back to Hatori and Aayame. The three gathered their things and, with Aayame still whining over his cramped hand, filed out with the rest of the class. The hallways were an ever-changing maze of students and lockers, the occasional teacher pausing in attempt to correct students with useless determination. The three maneuvered between male and female students alike with expert grace and ease, avoiding all potentially dangerous situations. It was as they exchanged books and binders at their lockers that the seniors approached them.
"Hey, Sohma." All three boys looked up and caught the annoyed glances on the strangers' faces. "Shigure, I mean."
"Yeah?" Shigure had a passive expression, but those that knew him could see the irritation in his eyes.
"There's a bash going down at Asakura's place tonight," the upperclassman continued, folding his arms across his chest. "You gonna be there?"
"That depends," Shigure responded. He shut his locker and leaned against his, regarding the strangers with a calculating look. "Should I be there?" Hatori had to admit that the dog had a certain charm about him that seemed to work in almost every situation, a persuasion that was hard to resist.
"If you want to ever set foot in this place again, you'd better be," was his only response before the seniors strutted away. Only then did Shigure grin; Aayame and Hatori frowned.
"Gure-san, you can't seriously be considering going to that party!" Aayame exclaimed as they walked home to the Estate.
"I'm not," Shigure replied smoothly, shaking his head. "I'm already going."
"It's a stupid idea," Hatori said. "Do you have any idea what they do at those parties? Under age drinking, most likely drugs . . . It's not a place for you, Shigure."
"Yeah, Dad, thanks for the pre-lecture." Shigure rolled his eyes. "You guys can study or whatever, but I'm going."
"How will you get out? It's almost impossible to get out of the Estate after dark without permission."
"Haa-san, Haa-san, whatever will I do with you?" Shigure shook his head as he patted Hatori's shoulder in what he must have thought was a comforting manner. "I've done it before, haven't I? I'll do it again. And no I'm not telling you, Aaya; you'll tell Hatori and then I'll never get out." He stuck out his tongue at the two and raced again, turning around only to shout that the last one home was a rotten egg. Aayame and Hatori exchanged looks before running after their canine cousin, wondering how much trouble they'd be in after this fiasco was over.
Fall was still young and yet night seemed to fall all too quickly. The black sky was clear and dotted by a million stars, the full moon gleaming brightly down upon the Estate. In one of the many houses lined along the gravel drive, Shigure stirred in his bed.
Fully clothed, he slipped from beneath his covers and snuck to the window. It opened without protest and he managed to drop to the ground, quietly trailing along the grassy field to the stone wall. It was the wall that kept all the Sohmas in and kept everyone else out. It was their prison, his prison, and he was going to get out. The dog of the zodiac pushed behind a scratchy bush and crawled through a small hole. It was the only breach in the wall and he was getting too big to keep crawling through; he'd have to find a new escape spot before long.
At last he was outside; at last he was free. A quick glance at his watch told him that the party had already started. There was nothing wrong with being fashionably late, he mused, starting the short walk from the Estate to the Asakura mansion.
As it turned out, no one was sober enough to notice he hadn't been there from the start. There were a few faces he recognized, but he too was quickly dragged into their world. From then on it did not matter who he was or who anyone else was; everyone seemed to be the same as if it was some drunken method of world peace. Male, female; he couldn't tell the difference as the music blared and drink after drink was pushed into his hands that seemed to be beyond his control. But he didn't care; he felt a strange warmth that matched the giddy grin plastered to his handsome features.
Leaning against the wall outside the house, Shigure wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. It was the third time he had thrown up since . . . well, he could not recall just how long he'd been there, but he assumed it had been quite some time. The bottle in his left hand met his lips and he took a lengthy swig, staggering back. He bumped into someone and struggled forward, slowly turning to meet whomever he had knocked into with half-lidded eyes.
"Can I help you?" Shigure's words were slurred and he only half-listened as he took another swig.
"We need a ride home," the person replied. Shigure knew they were slammed; probably had had too much to drink. Silly kids and their parties. Who better to take them home than the ever-sober dog of the zodiac?
"I'll give you a ride," he replied, the bottle slipping to the grass. He stared down at it blankly, coming back to what senses he had left when a ring of keys was pressed into his hands.
"Thanks, man." Shigure followed the pair to what he assumed to be their car. It was a nice model, one of the vehicles that all the 'cool kids' owned. It wasn't until they were on the road, cruising along at godly speeds, that Shigure realized he didn't know where they were going.
"Hey," he began, twisted his head to look at the person sitting in the passenger seat. "Where are we going?"
"Sohma Estate."
"What?"
WHAM!
When Shigure regained consciousness he was met with a blast of pain. He could see nothing but the cracked windshield just inches from his nose, one eye lost in a sea of red. It was hard to tell what was up and what was down. He could not recall where he was or who he was with. Was he alone?
"Help," he rasped, his voice a mere whisper. Something was pressed tightly against his throat but he could not move his hands to pull it away. "Help . . . "
Everything went black.
The moment Hatori entered the room, he knew something was wrong. It wasn't the strange hospital smell that met his nose nor was it the awkward cheer the secretary seemed to have permanently fixed on her stretched face. It was the sight of his cousin, of his friend, sitting in a white plastic chair, head cradled in his hands.
Even from a distance he could see that Shigure was shaking, the only visible portions of his face deathly pale. Scratches littered his hands though his clothes looked relatively unharmed; Hatori suspected they had been brought from home.
"Shigure?"
The dog looked up at the sound of Hatori's voice and the dragon could not help but stare at the long gash running down the right side of his face. There were more scratches and bruises; he had a black eye on the same eye. Hatori thought he looked frail, as if he would break if anyone touched him. But Shigure stood to walk over to his cousin and a man Hatori had not noticed before roughly shoved him back down in his seat. The man wore a police uniform and had a cold look about him. It dawned on him then that Shigure looked scared.
Yes, something was very wrong.
"Haa-san?" Aayame's voice was a whisper in Hatori's ear. The snake's hands gripped his shoulders from behind and he could feel him trembling. "Haa-san, what's going on?"
"I don't know," Hatori replied quietly, his eyes locked on Shigure. For once he did not bother to pull away from his cousin's embrace. "I don't know."
"Hatori! Aayame!" Shigure seemed desperate for some sort of contact. Hatori glanced warily at the police officer before slowly making his way toward Shigure, Aayame right on his heels. "Hatori, Aaya..."
"Yes, Shigure?" Hatori refrained from stepping away; he could smell the liquor on Shigure's breath from where he stood.
"Hatori... Don't... Don't talk to me that way," Shigure pleaded. "Please, no more! They've done it enough already..."
"Shigure, what-"
"You'll have to leave now," the officer stated blandly. "This young man has received a DUI and is being charged for second degree manslaughter; no one is allowed near him for the time being."
Hatori and Aayame had time only to exchange glances before a second officer took them by the shoulders and escorted them from the room. The two turned as the officer returned to the waiting room and caught a glimpse of their cousin as the doors swung to a slow.
The doors fell shut with a click and Shigure was gone.
"They're dead."
Hatori chose not to comment, opting instead to stare at his hands folded on the table before him. Shigure sat on the opposite side. The faint tinkering of Aayame in the kitchen met their ears; otherwise the house was silent. Hatori thought it was calming. Shigure thought it was uncomfortable.
But then, he thought most anything was uncomfortable anymore.
The door swung open and Aayame emerged balancing three cups of his famous tea in his arms. He set one before Hatori and one before Shigure, the third remaining in his hands as he sat beside Shigure. There was a cheery grin plastered on his face, but both of his cousins could tell that it was forced. None of them were happy.
"It was my fault," Shigure continued, apparently unaware of the tea that had been placed before him. "If I hadn't of gotten into that damn car..."
"If you hadn't of gone to that damn party," Hatori corrected before he could stop himself. He took a quick sip of tea and winced as he burned his tongue. Shigure pretended not to hear him, staring down at his brown reflection in his cup.
"Yori had a baby girl yesterday," Aayame quipped, attempting to change the conversation to a more cheery subject. "Her name is Kisa. Rumor has it she'd the new tiger. Aneko's due to have her baby any day now," he continued, "so I suppose we'll have another sheep on our hands-"
"Great, they're already replacing them!" Shigure swiped at his tea. It fell sideways, running along the table to drip off onto the white carpet below. The three of them simply stared, unable to bring themselves to move and wipe the mess away. Shigure was the first to move, though he made no effort to save the carpet. Instead he stalked off to the living room.
"Maybe he needs time," Aayame said quietly, staring at the table with a pained expression. The sound of shattered glass was audible.
"Or maybe he needs help," Hatori countered, rising to his feet. The two cautiously entered the next room to see Shigure standing in the center, a variety of broken and smashed objects spread around him.
"They were going to put me in jail," he was saying. Whether he was talking to them or himself they would never know and never have the heart to ask. "They were going to lock me up forever. I-I didn't mean to do it. Nothing was supposed to happen." He paused as a choked sob escaped his throat. "I didn't want them to die."
He fell back onto the couch and began to cry, holding his head in his hands. Hatori and Aayame sat on either side of him, wishing there was something they could do to help him. Shigure leaned against Hatori, eyes squeezed shut in a last-ditch attempt to compose himself. Aayame rested on hand on his shoulder, the other on his arm, his grip tight and comforting.
"I didn't mean for them to die," Shigure murmured, "I didn't mean for them to die."
No one said a word. What was there to say? The happy-go-lucky dog they thought they knew had been revealed as possessing more than silly recklessness; he was deadly. It was a struggle to comprehend that there had been a different tiger, a different sheep not so long ago. They had not died of a broken heart, they had not died of a horrible curse as was the fate of most of the zodiac.
Their fate had been far worse.
Shigure cracked open an eye to peer lazily out the window. The rain had come to a halt, the starry sky almost visible through the thin veil of clouds hanging overhead. He sat up and the shards from his broken bottle caught his eye. The day's date came rushing back and the slight grin on his face quickly vanished.
It was October sixth and twelve years had passed.
"But it seems like only yesterday," he murmured. "Like only yesterday."
