Facing his mother was the hardest thing Yuki had ever done.
It was not necessarily because he was afraid of her, although the memory of her absolute power over him in his childhood and damage it had done to his ability to be a functional human being was still fresh in his mind. He was more worried about what this would do to her. Just her, as a person.
He wondered when she had become so small and frail, when her hair so meticulously styled had become so thin and her clothing, sharp power suits, had suddenly become more comfortable, more feminine. He wondered when he had started to tower over her, and regard her with a sort of wary pity, as if she were a wounded tiger; he knew in the back of his mind that she was dangerous, but she just looked so... defeated. Perhaps it was because the curse breaking had taken away her claim to a high status in the family. Perhaps it was because her eldest son had left her, and her youngest was becoming so distant.
And so it killed him to have to tell her that not only was he leaving, he was NOT leaving for one of the fancy private universities the Sohmas wanted him to attend in the capital, the same universities Hatori had chosen from and Ayame (actually the brightest of the bunch, though he'd never tell) had rejected to live a life of his own making. He wondered when he had decided exactly what it was he wanted to do with his life. Maybe it was after Tohru left with Kyo, to live in a distant land. After all, she was the one who had inspired him.
When he really thought about it, he had always known that he never wanted to be part of the Sohma tradition of becoming a doctor, or a lawyer, or a high-power business man for some fancy investment firm. He supposed that, when he was young, he had never really considered becoming anything, he was so sickly and so firmly in Akito's grasp. But when he had stumbled upon the idea to do THIS, he just knew it was right. Maybe, just maybe, he could mean something to people, the way Tohru had meant something to him to all of them, really.
"Mother?"
She did not turn from where she stood in front of the sink, staring out the window. It seemed so strange to see her in that setting, like she was a normal mother, preparing dinner for the family instead of ordering the maid to do it before disappearing into her office with a stack of paperwork. He vaguely registered the glass of water in one hand and the two aspirin in the other; her small shoulders were set so tensely that they seemed to be trembling. Was she okay?
He took a deep breath to steady himself. It had to be done.
"I've withdrawn my applications to the Universities in Tokyo. I'm going to be studying on the coast this year."
His mother was quiet for a time. She placed the aspirin down on the counter before turning to face him. "And you won't reconsider?"
"I won't."
"But your tuition fund is not "
"I don't want it. I have a job."
"Then what did you come here for? To rub it in my face, that you're leaving? Just like your no-good brother?" Her hand had moved suddenly as her anger surfaced. Water sloshed up over the edge of the glass and ran down in her hand in rivulets. She made no move to wipe them off. She was pathetic.
Yuki cut her off with an icy glare. "I would be proud," he ground out from between clenched teeth, "to be just like Ayame."
"Then do it. Go."
He wanted to be tough. He wanted to be cold, to pay her back for all the years she had treated him like property, a commodity to curry favour with the head of the family. But he couldn't do it. Maybe it was because he was weak, after all. Or maybe he had some sort of complex, the way an abused dog will continue to be loyal to its master up until its very death at his hands. He thought it was probably the water, making soft muffled sounds as it dripped onto the carpet that covered the hard tile floor.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave it this way. He had to say something.
"I'm sorry," he said, softly.
And he left.
As he walked down the long walkway to exit the Sohma compound and get back to the street, he thought about calling Tohru. She would be proud of him, he decieded, for facing his mother like that. She had been so excited about his plan to study psychology. She said she would support him in any way possible.
He knew she would say that. He also knew exactly what Kyo would say when he found out. But maybe he was right.
Therapists were truly the most messed up people of all.