Memories of the Forgotten One

Chapter 2

Great Shining

I would like to dedicate this chapter to my reviewers,SharinganRasengan and Takumi4ever

In a dark room decorated sparsely with furniture, the windows blocked out by thick curtains, Osamu Sohma bowed low before Daiki Sohma. Osamu was on his knees, some of his short black hair grazing the floor. Daiki was standing, his frail form covered by a black robe. His dark robe and longish black hair contrasted sharply with the pale, unhealthy colour of his skin. The lighting of the room further enhanced this effect, making him look ghostly and inhuman.

"You may speak, Osamu," said Daiki. The tone of his voice made it obvious that he saw Osamu as inferior, as though Osamu was an annoyance. This would seem strange to any observers, as Daiki, nearly ten years younger than the other man, appeared to show him no respect whatsoever. But Daiki was the head of the family, and if Osamu showed him the slightest sign of disrespect, Osamu and those close to him were sure to suffer. The news he carried with him might already be enough to ruin the lives of Osamu and Kimiko.

"Speak!" commanded Daiki, impatience ringing in his voice and echoing through the room.

" Kimiko gave birth … to the cat-child," Osamu said.

Daiki looked thoughtful. When he finally spoke he did so slowly and deliberately, as though he feared that otherwise Osamu would misunderstand. "Make it wear the beads and keep it away from the other children," he said, looking at Osamu with even greater disdain than he had before. Osamu was no longer merely an inferior. Now Osamu was the father of the monster.

"Go now," said Daiki. Osamu said a few words of thanks as he left. Daiki could see the look of relief in his face. What did he think I would do to him? wondered Daiki.

Why were people always making assumptions about Daiki? Why had his entire life been decided for him? He had to live his life a certain way, he had to lead a family he had never chosen to lead, and he had to die before everyone else. Now his actions were being decided before he could even do them. He never had a choice.

He had to work harder than anyone else, he had to do so much, and nobody cared. His hard work would never be rewarded, hard work he hadn't even chosen to accept but was forced to do all the same.

They say the cat is the most cursed of all in the Sohma family. Daiki disagreed. If anything he was the most cursed, his life already planned for him, his death already planned for him. He felt like he was nothing, like he was nobody. Those Juunishi that he had to guide, they weren't the cursed ones, they were the curse. A curse designed to make Daiki miserable.

Daiki, who had fallen to the floor after Osamu had left, now pulled his frail form up into a sitting position. He ran a hand through his hair, the black strands flowing easily through his fingers. He wasn't afraid of dying. He didn't really find the concept so hard to grasp. He was always reminded that he would soon die; it seemed to be the only thing that he had to look forward to. What he hated was the fact that he had no choice. He was going to live an extremely short life, and he was going to live it entirely trapped.

He was the god of the Sohma's. He could have whatever he wanted except freedom. He hardly knew the meaning of the word; it was just another concept he would never get to experience. But he knew that it wasn't this.

He stood, and slowly walked over to a window. He pushed some curtains away to reveal the light of day. The light stung his eyes and felt unnatural on his skin, but he sought it out all the same. He couldn't control the light, sometimes it was there, and sometimes it wasn't. He could cover it with the curtain but some of it always came through. He couldn't control it, sometimes it would hurt him, but it was always beautiful. The light of an outside world that he never really understood, a world he could never live in. It was the light of freedom.

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Osamu approached the house warily. It was the house he would have to get the beads from. The house of the previous monster's daughter. Osamu had never met her before and knew nothing about her. He only knew that she was a monster's child, and therefore almost a monster herself.

He hesitantly raised a hand to the door and knocked three times. He had to do this. He had to ignore his dread at the thought of the monster and get the beads. The beads that could keep his son from hurting people.

A woman of about twenty answered the door. She was rather pretty, with a few strands of her long black-brown hair curving to frame her face. She dressed nicely, wearing a light colored kimono. Osamu found himself rather surprised by how normal she looked. He wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting, but it hadn't been this woman. "Oh, hello," she said, sounding surprised.

"H-hi," said Osamu, stuttering into a greeting. It felt so strange to be talking to a monster that seemed so normal.

"Who are you?" she asked, looking puzzled.

"Osamu Sohma. I'm here about… about the beads."

"Kasumi Sohma," said the woman, bowing slightly. It took Osamu a moment to realize he was expected to bow as well. He did this, more deeply than he had intended to. He shouldn't even have to bow to a person of such low status, the child of a monster. But there was something about her personality that seemed to demand respect, and Osamu found himself unable to disregard it.

Kasumi motioned for him to come in, and Osamu did this. After taking his first few hesitant steps inside, he was again shocked by how normal everything was. The room was lit mainly by sunlight that entered through a large window. There were some small plants such as bamboo decorating the tables and resting on windowsills. The walls were pure white. It all looked like a normal house, actually a little bit nicer than normal. Osamu grudgingly had to acknowledge that it was nicer than his house.

He had known that life would change for him and Kimiko once the child was born, but he had never thought that their lives could change so much. He thought that it would be a kind of pleasant, gradual change, a new adventure for him and Kimiko. Instead it was this spiraling out of control change. They were now the family of the monster, forsaken by the Sohma family. And the child hadn't even transformed into the monster yet.

Something scratched against Osamu's leg. It wasn't very painful, but the surprise was enough to make Osamu reel around to look behind him. A small black and white kitten was at his feet; glaring at him defensively, head low like it was ready to fight. "Aki," said Kasumi. The kitten trotted over to her and she scooped it up in her arms. Osamu realized that Aki was the kitten's name. "My father had many cat friends. When he died, most of them left. Aki is the only one who stayed," said Kasumi. It was strange when she spoke. She never looked directly at Osamu and her voice had a short of far off sound to it, as though she was only talking to the wind and wasn't aware that Osamu was there. It gave Osamu the impression that Kasumi was somehow greater then him, as though he was not even worth her full attention.

No, that was nonsense. Osamu pushed those thoughts far away from him. She was the child of a monster. She was probably acting like this because she wasn't used to interacting with other people. She had been shunned all her life; she didn't know how to act. Yes, that was a logical explanation.

She had been shunned, as she deserved to be. But Osamu felt a stab of guilt. He was now about to be shunned the same way that he and everyone else had shunned Kasumi. He didn't want to be treated like that; he didn't want to be severed from the rest of the family. But it was what awaited him, and he knew it was the right way to do things. Those were the rules, and he couldn't be opposed to them only now just because it inconvenienced him.

Kasumi took a small box down from a shelf. It appeared to be a black shoebox. Kasumi opened it to reveal a small bracelet made from orange and black beads. Osamu was a very observant person, and he noticed two things that horrified him. There was no dust on the box, she had been looking at the beads often or at least recently. She had been looking at a cursed object, a blood stained memorial of the cat. They may keep the monster from transforming, but such a tainted object that had belonged to the cat… well, Osamu at least found it nauseating that anyone would want to look at it. If it had been him, he would have hidden the beads away and tried to forget about them. The other thing he noticed was that they were only kept in a shoebox, they could easily have been stolen and then the cat would have to stay as the accursed monster forever. An object that could literally save lives was kept in a shoebox!

"How can you keep them in a shoebox?" Osamu all but yelled.

Kasumi seemed totally unfazed. "First of all, it is not a shoebox. It is the box a vase came in. And to answer your question; why not? It is not like anyone would take them. They have absolutely no use to anyone but the cat. And I saw from your face that they sickened you. Do you really think that anyone would take something that they found to be so unpleasant?" Osamu could not come up with a response.

Kasumi fully opened the box and peered inside. Osamu found himself leaning over her shoulder to see inside as well. There were a few photographs, but what caught his attention were some sketches of trees and other natural surroundings. The drawings weren't exactly good by most standards; the artist seemed to have had very unsteady hands. They had amazing details, but the details gave them sort of a bizarre look. There seemed to be gnarled tree trunks with branches hovering above them, leaves floating around the branches, and small lines half on half off the leaves.

"The photographs are from when he was still free. He drew the sketches when he was confined. In the last few years of his life he was trapped inside and unable to go out. These were all he had to remind him of the outside world," said Kasumi. She picked up one of the pictures of trees. "Terrible, maybe the worst drawings I have ever seen. Beautiful though." Osamu wasn't quite sure what to make of this remark. Kasumi was smiling as she said it, a small, sad smile.

"They're very nice," said Osamu. He wasn't quite sure if he was lying or not. The artist clearly had no skill, yet there was something about the pictures that seemed… nice.

"Being locked away was what killed him. People cannot live like that. I hope that you realize that and do not let the same happen to your son," for the first time Kasumi was looking directly at Osamu as she talked.

Osamu left soon after, the beads wrapped in a brown paper bag, which he carried in his pocket. He had never felt more confused.