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Omajinai
A Fruits Basket fanfic by Sakura.
Standard disclaimers apply.


Written for the 30 Kisses LJ community (pairing: Yukiru).
themes: 01 [look over here], 07 [superstar], 13 [excessive chain], 26 [if only i could make you mine]

2005.02.26.

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Too many people crowded in the same room, the stench of cigarettes, bad karaoke singing.  Yuki sat in his corner, growing listless by the hour, refusing everything passed to him --- bowls of chips, glasses of punch, slivers of cake, the karaoke microphone.  At one point Kagura bound over to his side (“you look so down, Yun-chan!”), prodded him into smiling, forced him to look at snapshots of some new cat-designed accessory she finished over the weekend.  When she finally went off to snuggle next to Kyou (who was kept from hitchhiking to the next prefecture, as was his custom, before any party started), a teen magazine slipped from her tote and unfurled in his lap, to the article ‘Fifteen Magical Charms To Win Over The Person You Love’. 

 

It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when Yuki decided to skim it, out of sheer boredom.

 

(Because he was not desperate.  At all.)

 

 

***

 

 

Tohru was holding a bottle and pouring soda into an assortment of glasses on a tray.  There were thirteen glasses to fill.  He didn’t know any charms for soda, at least none for pouring, but he could easily make one up.  If the soda runs out at the exact same number of glasses that is equal to the number of strokes in your name, that means she is thinking of you.

 

After the fourth glass, she filled another.  Then the liquid stopped halfway through the next glass.  “Oh dear.”

 

So much for that charm.

 

As she padded into the kitchen to replenish her supply, somebody reached over the mess of plates and bowls and took the nearest glass captive.

 

 

***

 

 

His brother Ayame, crooning badly into the microphone, three measures off.  When I think about the two of us, I think it would be so nice / if somewhere along the way you would fall for me toooo…

 

 

 

***

 

 

The genkan was a confusion of laughter and talk and coat wearing and slipping feet into the wrong shoes.  Kisa padded back in stocking feet to where Tohru stood watching, lifted herself on tiptoe, pressed a timid kiss on Tohru’s chin.  “Oneechan, good night.” 

 

Tohru looked stunned for a moment, then recovered.  “Good night, Kisa-san.”  She bent down and kissed the girl’s forehead.  “Have a safe trip home.”

 

“I found your shoes, Kisa,” cut in Hiro, stiffly, holding out a pair of red sneakers.  “Shigure-jiisan was standing on them.”

 

“Hiro-chan.”  Kisa touched his arm.  “Hiro-chan, you haven’t kissed Oneechan goodbye yet.” 

 

The boy suddenly looked like he had swallowed a mouthful of something very sour.  “It’s all right, I don’t---” His protest was cut off by Tohru’s kiss on his forehead.  “Have a safe trip home, Hiro-san.  Good night.”

 

“…G-Good…night.”

 

“Ah, me too!” came Momiji’s cry.  “I want a good night kiss too, To-ru!”  He had eagerly slipped his boots off and was just about to bounce across the wooden floor, but Kyou grabbed him (“c’mere you perverted runt”) and rapped him sharply on the head.

 

“Waaa~~ Kyou hit me~~”

 

“What a lovely hostess you have here, ‘Gure-san!”  Ayame beamed.  “Giving away good night kisses for free!  Shall we all line up for one then?”

 

“Do help yourselves,” Shigure grandly said.  “Though I was wondering if you all wouldn’t mind if I went first?”

 

“I wouldn’t advise it,” Hatori remarked.  “Honda-san will be better off not catching what you have.”

 

“Ha-san, we know you want her all to yourself, but…”

 

Hatori lifted an eyebrow.

 

“No kissing!  At all!”  Kyou was turning red, partly from the effort to keep Momiji from slipping out of his grasp.

 

“No, Kyon-Kyon, we all get kisses and you don’t.”

 

“NO!  KISSING!”

 

Tohru stood radiant in the genkan light, hands hidden in the folds of her skirt, smiling as the exchange wore on.

 

 

***

 

 

In the dark, there was little to do other than watch her and finish the tea. 

 

Yuki reached for the teapot, poured the remains in his cup, set it down to reach for another pot.

 

“Guess I’d better join them.”  Hatsuharu got up from the table, stretched his limbs.  Some joint in his arm went pop! as he took a swift jab at the air.  “It’s not everyday you get kissed by a cute girl.”

 

Yuki only drained his cup and set it down on the table soundlessly, keeping both hands closed around it.

 

Hatsuharu’s arm fell.  “Yuki.” 

 

“…What.”

 

“You have it bad.”

 

Feeling a sudden, heavy sort of languor, Yuki stared at the sea of emptied cups and plates and bowls before him.

 

“You have it so bad, you’re actually trying to get drunk on tea.”  

 

“Just go, will you.”

 

“Black tea.”

 

“Go.”

 

Hatsuharu shrugged.  “Just wanted to point it out.”

 

He sauntered out of the room in slow, easy steps, pausing to tap Tohru lightly on the shoulder as he passed her by.  She jumped in surprise and turned to see who it was.  Even without watching her reaction, Yuki knew her eyes had softened in recognition.    

 

 

***

 

 

There she was in the light, smiling and waving at the Sohmas as they all filed out of the house one by one, and he wondered if she wondered where he was, where he had been all this time.  He wondered if she could find him.

 

Another charm then.  His last for the day. 

 

“Honda…Tohru.” 

 

He said it so softly, almost as if he hadn’t opened his mouth at all.

 

Her hand froze in mid-wave.

 

For a sudden, frightening moment he thought she would look his way, see where he sat huddled in the dark, but she didn’t turn around.  Her fingers had begun to move again, and resumed their motion long after the last guest had left, sliding the door shut behind him.

 

 

 

[ end ]