Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3305159.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Fruits_Basket
  Relationship:
      Sohma_Yuki/Manabe_Kakeru
  Character:
      Sohma_Yuki, Manabe_Kakeru, Sohma_Akito, Sohma_Shigure
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-02-07 Updated: 2017-01-23 Chapters: 3/7 Words: 7350
****** Repeating the Past ******
by perdue
Summary
     Yuki is troubled by his past and Manabe wishes more than anything to
     help. But unlike the last time Yuki opened up to him, providing
     comfort ends up leading down a path Manabe never could have expected.
     Nabe/Yuki, noncon Akito/Yuki.
Notes
     this was actually the first fic i ever posted to the internet way
     back in 2007. i abandoned it after a while due to lack of interest in
     furuba and how grossed out i was by the content i had created. but in
     2012 i decided to pick it up again for writing practice, and to take
     it in a new direction, and the writing i did at that point was
     actually pretty damn good. i never wanted to post on ao3 for how bad
     the first 3-4 chapters were, though, and now my friend rei has
     convinced me to tweak/rewrite the first few to make it postable.
     so...here it is.
     this fic does not start out explicit but will definitely become
     explicit in later chapters. it deals a lot with child abuse,
     manipulation and non-consensual sex performed on an underaged boy. if
     things like that squick or trigger you, please go find something
     happier to read!
See the end of the work for more notes
***** a different world *****
Yuki stared blankly at the clock in the Student Council room, not really seeing
or thinking to acknowledge the unbearably slow passage of time. Manabe and Kimi
had run off to cause trouble for his fan-club, and Naohito had begrudgingly
trudged after them, feeling the need to keep the peace out of some misplaced
sense of duty. After she had finished her filing, Machi murmured that there was
no more work to be done and left. Yuki may have been sad to see her leave if he
had been conscious enough to notice.
Since that morning, his mind had felt hazy, something felt inexplicably wrong.
He couldn’t explain why it was happening—why now, after all this time—but
pieces of his past that had been better off forgotten had sunk into his mind
throughout the day, leaving him dazed and disoriented. He might have felt
grateful for a chance to sit alone and think without interruptions if the
intrusive thoughts were anything but what he was experiencing.
The rat’s gaze moved from the clock to the paperwork in front of him, though he
still didn’t really see anything. He had tried so hard to forget about the
things that had happened to him, but as was becoming clearer each year, some
scars are simply impossible to heal.
It was embarrassing to admit even to himself that he had been sold by his own
parents to be Akito’s toy, but the memories resurfacing since that morning
weren’t the same. They held a much more terrible humiliation to them.
Slumping over and resting his head in his arms, Yuki balled his hands into
fists and willed the more detailed images to go away. Ones of hot breath,
searching hands. The confusion of a pleasurable moment followed by pain and
fear. Knowing so fully that he was a toy in so many more ways than a child ever
should be.
A brief flash of pain shot through the haze in his mind as he realized his
fingernails had dug so deep into his palms that he drew blood. Finally feeling
lucid, he sat up again, staring at the blood sluggishly pooling on his upturned
palms. Yes, those memories were too terrible to mention. After all, everyone
was aware that he’d been given to Akito, but he had never dared to tell a soul
of the things Akito had done to him in that black room. It would be too
degrading for any of his cousins to know just how used was.
“Leader!” The voice was distant to Yuki’s ears, and the rat might have expected
it was coming from outside the room ha he not glanced up to see Manabe already
inside. “AAAH!” Nabe yelled.
“E-Eh!?” Yuki yelled right back, startled.
“Yun-Yun, you’re bleeding!”
--
“So you were thinking too hard again?” Manabe had taken Yuki first to the nurse
to get his hands bandaged, then outside in front of the soccer field, the place
Yuki had last confessed to the vice president the deep feelings he’d held about
his past, and about Tohru.
“Yeah,” Yuki mumbled, staring pointedly at the cup of water Kakeru offered him.
“At least you didn’t throw up this time,” Manabe remarked cheerfully. Yuki
rolled his eyes and allowed himself a glance at the other’s bright smile before
looking away.
Manabe sat down next to Yuki without a word, for which Yuki was grateful. There
was no way Nabe would let him leave unless he opened up at least a bit—that
much Yuki knew for certain. He held onto the paper cup tightly, nearly crushing
it. He couldn’t bear the thought of Manabe discovering just how pitiful he was.
“Manabe,” he started, and his voice was already starting to crack. He could
feel Manabe’s concerned eyes on him without even looking his way. “I can’t—this
isn’t something I can so easily talk about…”
Yuki nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over to his
friend, who immediately caught his gaze, dark eyes piercing and warm. “Yuki, I
thought last time would’ve…” He trailed off, embarrassed for some reason Yuki
couldn’t discern, but his eyes never left Yuki’s. “No matter how bad it is, I
really want to listen to you. And to be there for you! And to try to make you
feel happy again. Even if I have to listen to all of Yun-Yun’s sob stories.”
Manabe’s smile was gentle as he placed a thumb under Yuki’s eye to brush away
the water that had spilled over, and with a tender voice continued, “Even if I
have to wipe away all of Yun-Yun’s tears.”
Rather than registering the fact that he had begun to cry, Yuki searched
Manabe’s eyes, wondering at the strange gentleness radiating from him. Rather
than jumping back in embarrassment, Yuki sat and simply felt the togetherness
of Manabe’s fingers lingering on the side of his cheek. Nabe closed his eyes
and gave Yuki his brightest smile. “’Kay?” he asked.
Heaving an annoyed sigh, Yuki murmured, “Yeah, yeah,” and pushed Manabe’s hand
off his face, perfectly aware of the flush on his cheeks. “Vice President-san,
don’t you have any shame, coming on to me like that?” He wiped at his tears
with his sleeve as he spoke, but his voice remained steady and deadpan. “Your
girlfriend would be appalled.”
“Actually, me and my girlfriend, we went our separate ways a while back.”
Shock made Yuki momentarily forget what he was doing, and his arms fell a few
inches as he stared at Manabe, mouth agape. “What happened?” he asked, the
surprise apparent in his tone. “I thought you loved her?”
Manabe reached into his pocket and handed Yuki a handkerchief. “Of course I
loved her. But things change. Love fades, new loves brighten.” He gazed
distantly out at the soccer field and let out a sigh. “We both just wanted to
try something new, you know? It was hard, but I’m pretty sure we’re both
happier this way.”
The way he says it, Yuki thought, peering at his friend from behind the
handkerchief, he doesn’t sound very happy at all. Yuki mimicked his friend,
looking out at the soccer field.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were suffering,” Yuki said quietly.
“Well, unlike me, you’re terrible at hiding it when you’re really upset.” His
voice had been pleasant, but Yuki flinched nevertheless, the urge to cry
threatening to flare up again. The way he said it so calmly, Yuki couldn’t help
but wonder how many times Manabe had suffered, and how many of those times the
idiot had actually bothered to go to someone. “But c’mon, Yun-Yun, enough about
me. You’ve been out of it all day, so tell me what’s going on.”
Yuki made a disgruntled face. “Was…it that bad?”
“Oh yeah, Yun-Yun. You were always gazing off into the distance, and even when
Naohito tried to force you to do any paperwork you just scribbled nonsense all
over the page and didn’t pay any attention! Kimi was getting so frustrated, she
would have jumped you if I hadn’t come to the rescue of Leader!”
Yuki stared at his hands that then rested in his lap, the shock at what Manabe
told him settling uncomfortably over him. He’d almost been hugged. That was too
dangerous to allow. He’d have to leave school if he couldn’t get the haze out
of his mind, perhaps he’d never be able to go back, he’d leave everyone behind
and maybe Hatori would have to get involved—
Yet again he felt Manabe’s hand on his shoulder. He looked over, saw Manabe’s
genuine concern. This boy, who had been just as genuine when Yuki had admitted
his feelings for Tohru. This friend, who let Yuki smile truly, and from the
heart. Yuki blushed, eyebrows furrowing as he looked away from Manabe’s
imploring eyes. He had been so wrapped up in self-loathing that he failed to
realize that Manabe really would listen, most likely wouldn’t berate him or
further his humiliation. Manabe was in a completely different world from Yuki.
Perhaps he would never truly understand, but Yuki felt confident that he would
support him regardless.
Kyo is with Shihan until next week, and Honda-san is staying with Hanajima-san
and Uotani-san…
“Manabe, would you like to stay at my house this evening?”
There was a long, excruciatingly awkward pause, but soon enough Manabe jumped
up into a very Kimi-like pose. “Oh my! Yun-Yun wants me to go to his house to
watch his erotic videos!? How naughty, tee hee!”
“I DIDN’T SAY THAT!” Yuki yelled, his cheeks burning at Nabe’s perversion.
The silence that followed almost seemed loud in itself, but after a few moments
Manabe shrugged. “Sure, Yun-Yun. As long as you’ll talk about what’s wrong.”
“Yeah,” Yuki mumbled as Manabe took out his cell phone to call his mother.
--
Simply out of curiosity, Yuki glanced up from the kana blocks Akito had given
him. At five years old, he didn’t know much besides that when Akito went
silent, something was on his mind. As it turned out, the rat’s seven-year-old
playmate was watching Yuki, but his eyes were distant, as if he wasn’t really
seeing anything before him.
“Akito?” Yuki queried in a small voice. The head of the family blinked and
focused his gaze solely on his cousin. “Akito, is something wrong?” The seven-
year-old blinked a few more times before setting Yuki with a rueful smile.
“No, my little Yuki,” he answered softly. “I was just wondering something.” The
five-year-old gave Akito an inquisitive look, head tilted to the side.
“What is it?” the rat asked. Akito’s smile faltered, and he looked away before
turning his back to his cousin and starting where he’d left off in his book.
Yuki blinked a few times before giving his attention back to the kana blocks.
Akito didn’t want to talk about it, and that was just fine. When the seven-
year-old was ready, he would tell Yuki whatever it was that needed to be said.
In fact, it was only after a few minutes had passed that, without turning to
face his cousin, Akito broke the silence. “Yuki, do you know what kissing is?”
The head of the family abandoned his book and stood slowly, gracefully, facing
the wall with untroubled determination. “I saw my mother…” He fumbled over his
words and fell silent for just a moment, before quickly continuing, “What would
happen I kissed you?”
Yuki’s head again tilted to the side. In theory, yes, he knew what kissing was,
but it was something he had yet to experience. After all, his mother had never
shown him any type of affection.
“If you kissed me, our lips would be together?”
Silence followed the uncertain statement. Yuki clutched his pants with tight
fists and awaited his cousin’s reaction.
“… Hm,” Akito finally said, his voice light, a small smile playing on his lips.
He strode to where his cousin was sitting anxiously until he stood directly in
front of the boy. He dipped down to kneel before the five-year-old, his kimono
flying up behind him before settling back in neat folds. His movements were
always so graceful, Yuki sometimes wondered if Akito was really some sort of
angel.
Yuki waited then, frozen as Akito reached out, fingers hesitantly touching
Yuki’s cheek before running over his lower lip. “Akito…?” Yuki asked, his voice
lacking any conviction for protest as the older leaned in and placed his lips
gently on his cousin’s. The kiss was over almost as soon as it had started, but
Akito smiled. Yuki didn’t know why, but he smiled in return.
***** lacking control *****
Chapter Notes
     trigger warning for nonconsensual vaguely sexual stuff with a very
     underaged boy!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Wow, Yun-Yun.”
Yuki and Manabe stood in front of Yuki’s house, and Nabe’s mouth was hanging
rudely open as he stared ahead.
“Cool place,” Nabe said, whistling in approval. He grinned. “But of course Yun-
Yun the princess would have such a big home as her castle.”
Manabe’s protests and yelps of pain fell on deaf ears as Yuki, eyebrows
furrowed in angry frustration, pulled The Idiot along by the ear. So instead,
The Idiot changed his plan of action to a steady cry of, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!
I’m sorry!” until they finally got inside and Yuki relinquished Manabe’s poor,
bruised ear.
“Jeez, Yun-Yun. You have no mercy,” Manabe slurred, pouting and rubbing his
sore ear as they both removed their shoes in the hallway.
“Well it would do you some good to realize I’m not a girl,” Yuki retorted, a
sort of close-eyed “dignity-at-all-times” expression plastered on his face, his
back deliberately facing his friend.
“Hey, it’s not like I can help it.” The rat opened his eyes and glowered at the
opposite wall, the mischief in Manabe’s tone not exactly calming his nerves. In
fact, he might have turned and struck when he felt a hand snaking down his arm
had Manabe’s lips not appeared beside his ear a moment later. “You are really
cute like a girl, after all,” he said in a hushed tone.
Yuki, who had temporarily forgotten how to think as he felt warm breath flitted
across his ear and an equally warm hand drawing faint lines against his
prickling skin, was saved as Shigure’s voice broke through his (lack of)
thoughts.
“Yuki-kun, is that you?” the dog called from the living room. “Is someone with
you?”
“Yeah!” Yuki called, pulling away from Manabe with the intention of simply
forgetting about whatever The Idiot had been trying to do. He avoided turning
to look at the other boy, not wanting him to see just how red Yuki’s face had
become. Rather, he walked toward the living room, expecting Manabe to follow
him, which he did.
“Hello, Yuki-kun,” Shigure said cheerfully. “Who’s your friend?”
“I’m home,” Yuki said, resituating his bag on his other shoulder and gesturing
to Nabe. “This is Manabe Kakeru. He’s the vice president at our school.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Manabe said, bowing politely. “Are you Yuki-
kun’s father?”
“I’m pleased to finally meet you as well, Kakeru-kun. But no, I am Shigure
Sohma, Yuki-kun’s cousin.” Manabe’s eyebrows rose and he shot Yuki a brief
questioning glance. “Well, in any case, please make yourself at home.” Shigure
smiled and Manabe smiled back.
“Thank you very much, Sohma-San,” Manabe said, bowing again.
“We’ll be in my room,” Yuki said before turning to leave.
Before the two boys opened the door, Shigure spoke tonelessly, “Oh, and Yuki-
kun, I’m going to see Akito today.” Yuki tensed immediately at the mention of
the head of the family. “He wanted me to bring you, but if you have a friend
staying over, you’re excused.”
Manabe jumped, waving his hand in the air in embarrassment, saying things like,
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get in the middle of family matters, maybe it would
be better for me to come back later?” But Yuki barely heard him. He could
barely stand, hand on the doorknob and frozen with shock when another horrible
memory like the ones that had plagued him all throughout the school day pushed
into his mind, another sickening recollection of Akito’s fingers touching his
naked skin, of breath flitting across his ear as the head of the family
murmured words that had seemed better suited for adults to him.
“Yuki?”
Manabe’s voice managed to work itself into Yuki’s mind, and the rat was
suddenly aware that Manabe had placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. He
turned to look at him, and saw that his expression was laced with worry. “Yuki,
are you alright?”
Yuki looked away quickly, his hair falling into his face and hiding the fear
and desperation that gathered in his amethyst eyes. He didn’t answer, merely
taking the hand that had rested so comfortingly on his shoulder so that he
could lead Manabe out of the room, having ignored Manabe’s worried chatter. The
emotions that were boiling in his chest threatened to burst through, and Yuki
feared himself and the strange way he had been acting all day. Deep within
himself he knew that it would be safer to send Manabe home, because whatever
was wrong with him, he didn’t want to put Manabe in the middle of it, wouldn’t
want his innocently smiling friend to become caught up in the labyrinth of his
inner turmoil and twisted feelings.
But as long as Manabe was there, he would be safe from Akito. He would give
almost anything to save himself from having to see the head of the family while
he was like this.
--
“Yuki.”
The small amethyst-eyed boy’s deadened gaze flitted away from the window to a
shadowed corner of the room. He could make out the faint glow of Akito’s pale
skin, lightened by the sunlight streaming in from the open window.
He had only left for a moment.
It had been New Year, and young Yuki thought he might become asphyxiated from
the stifling feeling of being only glanced at with mocking eyes by his brother
and cousin. Akito had been preoccupied with Kureno, so surely he wouldn’t be
missed if he disappeared to the restroom? Even if he hadn’t heard the servants
talking about the cat outside and his terribly angry faces, Yuki likely
would’ve taken the same amount of time staring at his reflection in the
bathroom mirror. But listening to the amused, gossiping servants, he came to
the realization that perhaps he wasn’t the only one in the family who felt
alone. Perhaps he might have finally found someone in the family who would
understand him—perhaps they could be friends. The very thought of it had him
turning on his heel, away from the family that abandoned him, away from Akito;
his new destination was a freedom that might have been waiting right outside
the front door.
The yard was covered with a heavy coat of snow, and through the dense quiet
Yuki could hear shallow breathing. When Yuki finally saw him standing out in
the snow, breaths forming small clouds in the cold evening air, he realized he
had never seen something prettier than the other boy’s shining orange eyes.
Even though he had never seen the cat before, the other boy seemed to recognize
him immediately.
“You. You’re the rat, huh?” he had asked, and Yuki had flushed at the boyish
sound of his voice. But it was no use—the cat’s expression turned into a deadly
scowl, his tone dripping with fury as he said, “I’ll never forgive you. Do you
hear me? I’ll never forgive you! It’s all you fault, rat! Everything’s your
fault! It’s all because you exist!”
Yuki paled as the pupils of the cat’s eyes even seemed to morph into ones like
the animal of his namesake. “Someone as rotten as you oughta do us all a favor
and just disappear!”
The cat ran away then, leaving Yuki alone to cry in the snowy yard. And now,
after losing his one hope of friendship, after already being punished by the
mother who had sold him away as if he were nothing more than a toy, now he had
Akito to punish him as well.
“Yuki, please answer me.” Akito abandoned his dark corner to walk near where
Yuki sat, hugging his knees to his chest and crying silent tears. “I would very
much like to hear your voice.”
“Y-Yes, Akito?” the small boy choked out, forcing back a sob.
The nine-year-old released a satisfied, “Hm,” and kneeled in front of his
cousin. Yuki neither flinched nor pulled away as Akito reached out his hand,
first to brush the hair from the younger boy’s face, then to trace down Yuki’s
tear-streaked cheek with slender fingers. “Much better,” he whispered, his
fingertips feather-light against Yuki’s trembling chin, the touch eliciting a
small whimper from the rat.
“Akito, are... are you angry?” he asked quietly. A moment of silence passed,
and the six-year-old found he was unsure if it was him or the fingers on his
chin that were shaking. His eyes did not meet Akito’s narrowed gaze, but
focused on his lips, slightly parted, as if he were about to say something but
couldn’t find the words.
“We’ll see, my little Yuki,” Akito finally said, has voice soft as he leant
down to place a chaste kiss on his cousin’s pale lips.
Yuki closed his eyes just in time for Akito to pull away. He couldn’t say he
disliked it when his cousin did this. Between being hurt and being told how
dark the world was, the gentleness of his kisses was the most enjoyable part of
being with Akito.
The head of the family again leaned in, and Yuki took the opportunity to tilt
his head up to meet the older boy’s lips. It was short, but Akito was back
within the moment, placing an open-mouthed kiss on Yuki’s closed lips. Yuki
opened his mouth slightly and resituated his legs so that they were no longer
blocking Akito from coming closer. In response, Akito immediately pressed
himself against his cousin without breaking the kiss, and placed a hand on the
back of Yuki’s neck to pull him closer still.
Without warning, Akito slipped a tentative tongue into Yuki’s mouth. Yuki,
startled by the action, tried to pull away, but Akito’s hand on his neck held
him still as the boy explored the rat’s mouth. Alarms were going off like rapid
fire in Yuki’s brain. It didn’t feel pleasant anymore—the entire situation
suddenly seemed very wrong. His eyes, open and staring at Akito’s crinkled
eyebrows and closed lids, widened when Akito moaned and began reaching urgently
for the ties to Yuki’s kimono.
“Akito!” Yuki yelled into his cousin’s mouth. The sound was muffled, but it
made no difference as Yuki jerked his head away. “Please stop,” he whispered,
tearful. “This is wrong.”
It took several moments for Akito to register Yuki’s words, and when he did he
struck Yuki in the same place his mother had not so long ago. “Who are you to
tell me I’m doing something wrong!?” he shrieked. Yuki burst into tears. “Was
it not wrong for you to leave me at New Years!? And why did you leave? To greet
the stupid cat!?”
Yuki’s sobs grew louder. Throughout New Year, all he’d been able to think about
was the cat—how beautiful the other boy was, and how much he hated himself for
being born the way he was; for being born in a form that everyone hated.
“Why would you want to speak to that wretched monster, anyway? I’m your friend,
your mother gave you to me!” In a fit of childish fury, Akito grabbed Yuki by
the back of the neck and forced him into a kiss so hard it left both of them
bruised. “You’re mine,” Akito whined into Yuki’s lips.
But as Akito continued to take advantage of him, Yuki could only think that
Akito was wrong.
No boy so beautiful could ever be such a monster.
--
“Neat room, Yu—ehh!?”
Manabe was cut short as Yuki took two fistfuls of his shirt and backed him
forcefully into the wall, his quick, shallow breath mere inches from Manabe’s
parted lips and his eyes closed, hazy mind relishing in the feeling of hot
breath mixing with his own. Yuki could feel the shock in Manabe’s tensed
muscles, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.
Suddenly, as if just realizing what he was doing, Yuki’s eyes opened wide in
the same shock Manabe must have felt and released his friend, backing several
feet away. He didn’t dare look at Manabe, unsure and frightened of what had
just come over himself. He wrapped an arm around himself protectively and
covered his mouth with his free hand. What if he had kissed him?
“Yuki,” Manabe said, his voice quiet and serious. “Did that Akito person do
something to you?” Yuki covered his eyes now, not wanting to see Manabe’s
expression, fearing the disgust that might show on his face. “He didn’t… touch
you, did he?”
Yuki felt his knees quivering uncontrollably and slowly dropped to them,
curling up into himself to try to hide the fact that tears were threatening to
fall from his eyes. “I… couldn’t stop him,” he whispered, at once horrified to
finally admit to it and relieved that Manabe had come to the conclusion
himself; Yuki didn’t know if he would’ve been able to say it. Even the thought
of Akito—his hands and lips touching places they absolutely didn’t
belong—brought out a sob that Yuki tried to cover as best he could.
Then without wasting any time, Manabe’s arms wrapped around the broken boy’s
shoulders. Yuki opened his eyes slowly, surprise muted but there as Manabe held
him close, his chin resting gently atop Yuki’s head. “It’s okay, Yuki,” he
murmured softly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
After a moment of tense shock, Yuki’s body relaxed and he closed his eyes,
leaning into Manabe’s warm embrace. Those words were exactly what he had always
wanted to hear.
Chapter End Notes
     for some reason the end notes from the first chapter are appearing
     here... anyone know how to make that go away?
***** God's Tool *****
Chapter Notes
     trigger warning for slightly more explicit sexual stuff with a very
     underaged boy (but this is the last chapter that involves underage)
His steps were slow and unsteady, the floor creaking softly beneath each
footfall. He deftly handed his bag to the worried servants, ignoring their
somewhat urgent questioning only because their voices felt too distant for him
to truly understand. His feet led him along as if his brain weren’t consciously
deciding his path. The only thing he was truly aware of was the tactile
sensation of Kyo’s bright red hat in his hands. He clung to it tightly as if it
might just float away from him if he weren’t especially careful with it.
Before he knew it, Yuki was standing in Akito’s private quarters, just in front
of the other boy who was sitting on the floor with a book in hand. Akito
glanced at Yuki as if he were nothing more than a second thought.
“Oh, Yuki?” he asked with only a passive interest. “Why are you crying?”
Yuki’s lip quivered and his legs felt weak so he fumbled to his knees, dropping
the hat in favor of clinging to the front of Akito’s kimono instead. He
couldn’t even find the strength to pull himself closer, head bowed as he broke
down and sobbed hysterically.
There was something moving inside him. It started in the pits of his stomach,
working itself up through his body, burning into his lungs, leaving him to
choke on it as it reached his throat. It was an emotion he didn’t want to admit
he had. Could it even be possible?
Was it possible for Yuki to feel love?
It had only been a day since Hatori had taken the memories of his friends. He
saw them walk by, laughing and not acknowledging him in the slightest. And Yuki
didn’t dare look at them long enough for them to notice—long enough to see the
grief in his face, the longing to be with them again. He wouldn’t have been
able to bear their confused expressions. If fate would not allow him these
friends, what use was it to try to get them back?
That day walking home, it was windy.
It was the only thing Yuki noted as he made his way to the Sohma estate,
fingers hooked around the straps of his backpack, his eyes downcast. He had
retreated into his own mind, something he hadn’t done in a long time, not since
he’d made friends. Now that they were gone, all he could think about was how
much he wanted friends, so much his heart felt as though it would burst like a
balloon.
A strong gust of wind blew, interrupting his train of thought. Yuki halted,
turning away to keep the sharp wind from his face, though his bangs snapped
against his cheeks regardless. Once the wind died down the boy opened his eyes
only to narrow them at the red hat that then rested on the ground before him.
Just as he bent down to retrieve it, he heard a very familiar voice yelling
out, “-Shou! Shishou, wait! My hat just flew—”
In that moment, the boy with the orange hair jumped out of the bushes, landing
gracefully (like a cat, Yuki couldn’t help but think) in front of him. Kyo
paused before him in shock. Yuki thought then that Kyo had really only seen him
at the New Years party, although Yuki had seen Kyo once more through the car
window while driving to school. That had only been a moment, however, and now
Yuki had more of a chance to look at him.
Kyo had matured a bit, and no longer held the same youthfulness Yuki had felt
at New Years. Notwithstanding, Yuki’s opinion didn’t change: the cat was still
just as beautiful as he had been the first time Yuki had seen him.
The blush was already rising in his cheeks as he watched his cousin, saw the
shock that illuminated his bronze-colored eyes. “…Oh. Um, here,” Yuki mumbled,
timidly offering the hat back to the other boy. Yet, it was no use. The cat’s
glare was intense and unrivaled, and he quickly and angrily stomped away,
abandoning his hat with strong conviction.
Yuki felt no surprise at the action; he’d known the cat hated him since their
first encounter, after all. Rather, he felt hollow. Even though Yuki
acknowledged Kyo’s resentment toward him as deeply as he possibly could in his
young age, he still couldn’t help the feeling of longing that trailed after Kyo
in his bitter wake. Yet, Kyo would never understand or even recognize that
longing, and so Yuki sobbed with childish abandon. The boy collapsed to his
knees, a withered plant whose stem could no longer support him for lack of
light. He still clutched at Kyo’s red hat.
Enough time passed that Yuki wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but
eventually even his tears all dried up, and although he didn’t want to, he
stood on shaking legs. His mother had abandoned him; his friends no longer
remembered him; Kyo would not even deign to touch his own belonging after it
had been sullied by Yuki’s hands. It felt to Yuki as if not a single soul in
the world would ever look at him, would acknowledge him.
Yet, he knew that wasn’t true; not really. There was one who would look at him,
and in that moment Yuki felt nothing more than a desire to feel his existence
validated, whether for good or bad.
“Yuki,” Akito said softly, and the eight-year-old was suddenly aware of a hand
on his shoulder blade which lingered for a moment before trailing down to the
small of his back. Yuki knew what this meant; it meant the caress of lips and
the stroke of tongues. No matter how many times Akito continued his experiment
in sensual intimacy, he never seemed satisfied. By then, Yuki no longer felt
fear. There was nothing more than a hollowness in his chest, the feeling that
his mind was floating to somewhere far away, leaving his physical body behind.
He’d stopped trying to say no long ago.
“Yuki,” Akito repeated, as if he knew Yuki’s mind was sealing itself off and
wanted to call him back. Yuki’s grip on Akito’s kimono loosened, and he tilted
his head up so that he could see his cousin’s face. The head of the family
smiled gently and leaned in, pausing only an inch from Yuki’s lips, breathing
light and unbothered against his skin. “Your world,” Akito whispered, his words
slow and deliberate, “is black.”
A fresh set of tears stung at Yuki’s eyes. Akito watched the little rivers rush
down Yuki’s cheeks while his fingers flitted down the rat’s front, other hand
holding him firmly in place with the palm pressed against the small of Yuki’s
back. He reached under the jacket of the rat’s school uniform and carefully
untucked the undershirt there, tilting his head to the side and grazing a kiss
against Yuki’s damp cheek. His lips moved painfully slowly against Yuki’s
trembling skin as he continued, “You are a boring human being.”
Yuki couldn’t help the sob that escaped him then, shutting his eyes against the
tears and trying his best to quiet his crying. He hated it—he hated more than
anything that it had to be him who was born as the rat. He hated that Akito
seemed to take such pleasure from making him wish he were dead.
But somehow when Akito abruptly stood, pulling away entirely, Yuki still
produced a soft moan of protest, though protest at what, the eight-year-old
could hardly know. All he knew was that Akito was the only person who would
ever touch him. Yuki, touch-starved boy that he was, felt that it was better to
feel that physical closeness at the expense of his sense of self than to feel
nothing at all.
Hearing Yuki’s sound of protest, Akito paused and turned back in his direction
with a hum. The head of the family bent far over, lifted Yuki’s face to his and
placed a wet kiss on the rat’s lips. When he finally pulled away, their gazes
locked, and there was a strong emotion in his God’s pitch-black eyes that Yuki
lacked the vocabulary to describe. It might have looked like longing if there
was not the same domination behind it, the same hunger. While Yuki felt an
innocent longing, a pure longing, the longing that radiated from his cousin was
dark, twisted. Yuki was powerless against it, drowning in the blackness that
Akito created for him.
Akito searched Yuki’s eyes as they looked at each other, and Yuki numbly
wondered what Akito saw in his. Whatever it was, he must have found it
intriguing, because he leaned in to taste Yuki’s tear-stained lips once more
before he pulled away. His voice was soft and low with that hungry emotion as
he said, “I’ll only be gone for a moment.” He straightened, and turned away to
walk out of the door before adding, “Remove your coat.”
Dutifully, Yuki began unbuttoning his jacket, his shaking fingers fumbling
slowly to the first, second, and third until it hung open, revealing his white
button-up shirt and black tie. Several minutes passed before he could hear the
soft murmur of voices outside the door. One of the voices belonged to Akito,
his sickeningly pleasant tone audible even though his words were not. It was
clear he was speaking with a servant, and Yuki listened as much as he could as
he removed his arms from his coat sleeves. The old woman sounded anxious, and
the more she spoke, the angrier Akito’s voice grew, until he was shouting and
Yuki could hear him clearly.
“I don’t care if he looks unstable! He’s mine and I’ll do what I want! If
anyone even comes close to this room, I swear I’ll kill them!” There was a
thumping sound and the sound of glass shattering, and a moment later Akito
slammed the door open, the hushed and hasty apologies from the servant receding
when the head of the family slipped back inside, shutting the door behind him.
Yuki watched him, frozen in place as Akito breathed harshly, eyes focused on
nothing and full of rage. He held a teapot in his hand and a single teacup.
Yuki wondered if he’d smashed the other one in his anger.
Only a matter of seconds passed before his pupils flickered over to his young
cousin. “Yuki,” the boy growled, looking for all the world as if he were ready
to walk over and give Yuki scars and bruises that would take weeks to mend.
Yuki could feel himself wanting to move but his limbs would not follow suit.
“A-Akito,” he whimpered, already feeling the sting of his blows before he’d
even come near. Only thinking that he wanted to save himself from harm, he said
the first word that came to mind: “T-Tea.”
Akito blinked, thankfully coming back to himself. Yuki let out a trembling
breath as Akito silently looked down at the teapot in his hand, and with a
trembling hand he poured its steaming contents into the teacup and offered it
to Yuki.
Yuki blinked back at him in turn. It had been years since his cousin had done
anything verging on kindness for him. Both of their hands shook as Yuki took
the cup from him.
“Drink,” Akito ordered quietly. As always, Yuki did as he was told.
The tea warmed his throat as he drank it, bringing with it a sense of calm.
When he finished the first cup—one of the small ceramic cups used in
traditional tea ceremonies—Akito insisted on pouring him another cup, and Yuki
obliged.
By the end of the third cup, Yuki felt as though he were in a daze. Akito was
physically close—when had that happened? Yuki wondered—though Yuki had never
felt so mentally far away. The older boy’s knuckles brushed against Yuki’s
cheek, and the brief contact and the coolness of Akito’s hand made him realize
how warm his skin felt.
Yuki barely registered the fact that Akito had begun undoing his tie, the
sensation of it being pulled out from beneath his collar faint. “Akito, what
are you…” Yuki tried to ask, but the question faded into nothing as the older
boy began undoing the buttons of Yuki’s dress shirt, fingertips light as they
explored the rat’s newly bared chest. Akito leaned in and kissed at Yuki’s neck
with a sloppy lack of expertise, but suddenly Yuki felt a hyperawareness of the
sensation, and he couldn’t control the way his breath hitched.
“You like this, hm?” Akito whispered. His breath tickled against the rat’s pale
neck and Yuki shivered. The answer to Akito’s question hardly mattered; Akito
had never gone this far before, and it was clear that he had no intention of
stopping. Akito’s desire for physical closeness went far beyond the bounds of
what Yuki had wanted by coming to him. Akito’s movements were too heavy, too
laden with emotions that Yuki was neither mentally nor physically ready for.
“No,” Yuki replied, whimpering as Akito pushed him down onto his back. Through
the haze in his mind, Yuki felt genuine fear at the sneer on his cousin’s face.
“I beg to differ,” the older boy whispered, the same hungry, livid emotion
practically dripping from his words. Yuki was unable to fight him off, couldn’t
think while Akito undressed him, couldn’t breathe as he was taken advantage of.
Yuki had gone home that day feeling very dirty. There had been touches and
gentle strokes and heated kisses upon his gaping mouth. It had been enough,
though, to make his body feel on fire through the haze of his mind, for him to
explode quickly against his cousin’s eager hand, his cry muffled against
Akito’s lips. And as soon as the head of the family had pulled away, Yuki
tugged his clothes back onto his shivering body, trying as best he could to
disregard the stickiness on his hips.
Even Akito seemed somewhat shaken by the situation, staring at the stickiness
that also covered his palm with a muted expression of consternation. He didn’t
much pay attention as Yuki shakily gathered his things. He hesitated at the red
hat but took it anyways, handling it with a sober, reserved care. When Yuki was
about to leave the room, Akito finally spoke up, his tone shakier than Yuki had
ever heard it before.
“Nobody cares about you.”
Yuki paused for only a moment before rushing out of the door.
-
The room was dark. Shigure halted near the window, and Akito scrutinized his
every move.
“Where’s Yuki?”
A pause, and then: “Staying the night with a friend.”
The frustration and rage from the head of the family was almost palpable.
Shigure opened a window and light poured in. He turned around. Akito’s corner
was still drowning in shadow.
-
Kakeru Manabe never moved, never once gave any indication that he was
uncomfortable. He merely sat there, his arms around Yuki, the words, “It’s
okay,” leaving his mouth whenever the rat sobbed or began shaking. He didn’t
complain that his shirt was getting wet, didn’t make fun of the rat for crying
so childishly, didn’t try to pull away when Yuki’s arms snaked their way around
Manabe’s middle, decreasing the space between them.
It had been too long. The only friendly embraces in his life had been those few
moment-long, usually accidental hugs with Tohru before he transformed into his
rodent counterpart.
Then there had been Akito…
Another set of sobs racked at Yuki’s chest, and Manabe’s arms tightened around
the rat’s shoulders. “Yuki,” Manabe whispered tenderly. His face pressed into
Yuki’s soft hair, and in a muffled voice continued, “You don’t deserve to feel
this pain.”
There would have been no way to tell, and really Yuki could care less about
what time it was, but it must have been more than an hour that he sat, holding
and being held. Never before in his life had he felt so warm, so safe, so…
loved.
Manabe pulled away, and Yuki, who had expected to feel a sense of loss and
emptiness when the embrace ended, let out a staggered breath. As if Manabe’s
arms still surrounded him, the warmth remained, Manabe’s very presence an
insulator that fought away the cold of Yuki’s fragile heart.
“Sorry,” Manabe murmured. It almost looked as if the other boy was hesitant,
like he wanted nothing more than to just sit there and hold the rat. “I don’t
want to sit here and selfishly hold onto you when I offered to let you talk. Do
you… want to talk about it?”
Yuki stared, another cluster of emotions welling up in his chest. He felt
confusion at his friend referring to himself as selfish when he was clearly
behaving selflessly for Yuki. But more than confusion, Yuki felt certainty. It
didn’t matter how terrible his story was, and he then knew that there with the
vice president—his best friend, his closest friend—all of his self-doubt was
pointless. Manabe was still going to listen, was still going to care, was still
going to hold him if the explanation became too overwhelming…
Manabe…
A pale hand reached out, trembling, and Yuki pulled himself to Manabe, hands on
his shoulders and head resting firmly against his chest. “Yeah,” the rat
murmured, calmed by the steady beating of Manabe’s heart that pounded lightly
against his cheek. “… I did promise, after all.”
Manabe placed his fingers against Yuki’s chin and lifted his head up so that he
could see Manabe’s eyes. “You don’t have to hold to your promise, Yuki. I just
want you to be comfortable and know you’re safe.”
Yuki shook his head, and resituated himself so that he was sitting next to
Manabe, close enough that they were touching, and to his surprise he felt
Manabe’s hand take his own, their fingers interlacing. It felt strange to him;
Yuki Sohma was not supposed to break down like this, was not supposed to be so
dependent on someone. But for once in his life, he felt right—like he was
exactly where he was meant to be.
“I know I’m safe now,” Yuki reassured him, squeezing his hand lightly. “I know
that I can trust you. I can tell you.”
Manabe nodded. “I’m listening.”
Yuki let out a long, soft sigh. “It… started when I was four years old.” Yuki
unconsciously tightened his grip on Manabe’s hand. Manabe stroked Yuki’s hand
with his thumb, soft, small movements that mesmerized Yuki. “He… asked if I
knew what it would mean if he kissed me, and I really didn’t know… but even if
I had, it wouldn’t have stopped him. He has complete control over us.”
“Complete… control?” Manabe asked, but Yuki suddenly felt hazy, blinking slowly
as only one feeling came over him: he wanted to walk away from the past that
continued to haunt him, and he wanted Manabe to be there beside him every step
of the way.
End Notes
     about akito--she will tend to be referred to with traditionally
     masculine pronouns in this fic, simply because the story comes from
     the perspective of people who only know her as a boy/man. the whole
     issue with gender seemed really poorly handled in that series imo so
     i'm not sure what i'm going to do with it in this fic. since i'm
     rewriting a lot of it we'll see where it goes!
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