A New Day A 'Fruits Basket' drabble Sephy For Amet. "So how does it feel?" Yuki turned from his contemplation of the yard, surprised to find Shigure at his shoulder, arms folded just so his hands were hidden from view. This ... none of it felt real. He kept expecting to roll over and find himself staring at knobby knees, rising in the darkness, a robe being pulled back on, his body bruised and aching, his mouth bloody. And then he too, would rise, staying on his knees long enough to receive that oh so patronizing gentle cuff to his head, tacit permission that he was done for now and could go. But he never moved, never so much as raised his eyes until the -- other went away, his presence shivering through the house, as dark as the curse that fell upon them. He had never thought Akito would allow it. Had never thought that Shigure for all his persuasive skills would ever be able to convince him to part with his toy. Even now, he listened for the phone, bag unpacked as he waited for the word that Akito had changed his mind, that he was "required to attend" again because as much as he wanted this, it didn't feel real. But the silence held, whatever game Akito was now playing with him still of interest enough to his cousin to make him patient. He wanted to see -- how long Yuki would hold out, would choke his fears and stay hidden, away from Sohma house, away from the knowledge of all he was and would be. /"Duty will always win, you see, and you have a duty to this family. You understand that, don't you, Yuki?"/ He understood, better than Akito, better than anyone save Shigure. Yet he wanted so desperately to -- There were some wishes, some hopes, he dare not give voice to even now, lest they be discovered. Akito's arm was long indeed. This house, this place, though was still new to him. Not even spending much of the night roaming, too wired to sleep, too enthralled with his new surroundings had detracted from that. He probably knew every nook and cranny at this point, every crevice and secret -- a few things that Shigure himself did not know but he still felt on edge. He wasn't used to such open spaces, to hallways that didn't creak with the malice of years, brightly lit and spacious rooms free of history, refreshingly modern and the absence of eyes boring into the back of his neck as he passed by. The loss of whispers, eyes cut in sympathy as they watched him pass by, the words loud and ugly in his hearing. 'Akito's pet.' No, he hadn't slept, instead spending half the night in a corner of his room, back to the wall, waiting. Waiting for the light shuffle of feet outside his door, waiting for the scream-slide of rice paper that had always seemed so loud to him those nights, and black eyes, even darker than Shigure's, raking hotly over his body in the darkness. The sound of a whip-- But there was none of that here. Just the sound of typing when he roused the courage to leave his bedroom and the sound of rats flocking under floorboards, squeaking impatient invitations at him to come out -- to play, to explore, to eat. "It feels like ... freedom," Yuki replied tentatively, lifting his chin to the early morning sun. And Shigure smiled. ***End return to splash page