Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Tsubasa no Datenshi ❯ Destiny ( Chapter 1 )

Dedication: This Fanfiction is dedicated to my nee-chan, Ki-chan. In remembrance and her dedication of her love for Sohma Kyo.

 

Disclaimer: All Fruits Basket's characters belong to their respected creators. All songs, unless otherwise stated, belong to their respected composers. However, Sayuri is an original character of mine, and Kanika, is an original character of my nee-chan, Ki-chan.

 

Well, now that the dreaded Disclaimer is out of the way, let's get on with the Fanfiction, because that's why all of you are here right? To read the story, and not some silly Author's note about them rambling on and on… I mean why do you need a disclaimer, really? Everyone knows you don't own the Anime or Manga. So why put it up! I just

don't get it…

 

 

Warnings- Violence, sexual content, abuse, rape, language, etc

Rating- M/NC-17

 

It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves. - William Shakespeare

 

 

It was the coldest it had ever been, even for the middle of winter. It was too cold. The sun beat down from overhead, but no matter how long it stayed, it's harsh rays glaring down. It provided no warmth, no comfort to the bitter cold that had struck as if by magic. Yesterday had been a day gone by. A day that would be forgotten. A day that would live only in the memory of fools. Yesterday would be remembered by few, forgotten by the masses.

 

It had been a relatively cool day, not even a flicker of clouds in the sky, or a wisp of snow littering the ground. Then, in the dead of night, as if brought on the wings of an angel, the cold had crept into every house, chilling each occupant to the bone with its icy fingers. The fingers of winter had curled around every heart, chilling it, freezing it. There was nothing anyone could do. It was an endless cycle. And as long as humanity existed, it would continue.

 

Cycle or not, it did not stop the occupants of Kaiwaia High School loathing the cold that was setting in. The winter that they could not stop. As much as each person, in their own right, want to stop it; it was inevitable that it would.

 

So the donned their heavier jackets, and their winter uniform, and set out for school, with the exception of two people. Two girls, they didn't even seem to notice the cold, they didn't even have uniforms. So what they were doing in the school hallway was anyone's guess.

 

One lead, the other followed.

 

The first one, the one that led, was tall for a girl, almost as tall as most of the boys who stopped to stare. Whether it was her silver hair, cropped short to her neck, sticking out at angles near the bottom, whether it was her cold, calculating violet eyes that stared ahead, glancing no where but her destination. It may have even been her choice of clothing, for it did so too much skin, both for school and the weather, but she seemed to pay no mind to her choice of clothing. And indeed the clothing was somewhat odd in it's self. A sleeve-less black top, that zipped down the front, but fell open, just below the bosom, the back falling down to the knees, exposing a tight stomach. A glove type sleeve that started just above the elbow and ended at the wrist made of only fishnet. Her skirt, leather in appearance, but made of cloth, fell low on her small hips, falling short, many inches above her knees. A loop type chain was used as a belt, but it sat at an angle, falling from one hip down to the bottom of the skirt. Her black books, over gray see-through stockings that ended above the knee, clicked in the silent hallway, but she gave no notice of being watched.

 

But what drew the most stares was a small tattoo, located to the right of her bellybutton. It was a small gray rat, lying on its back and playing with an invisible object in the skin above it.

 

The girl behind her could have faded into the shadows, and no one would have noticed. For, unlike her companion, who held herself up proudly, as if she had nothing to fear, the smaller girl shuffled behind, sending wry glances hear and there, as if she would be attacked at any given moment.

 

Though the other girl was tall, but small in stature, small hips, thin long legs and arms, her companion could be even smaller. Though visibly shorter, it was obvious she had not seen as many fights as the girl in front of her. Her arms were small and wiry, her legs shuffling along, hidden under baggy pants. In fact, most of her clothing was baggy. Unlike the other one who walked in front, who wore little clothing, the smaller one wore a lot. Baggy black pants with a black skirt, with blue plaid patches all over, on top of that. Multiple chains and blue strap connected skirt to pants, pocket to belt loop, chain to chain. She wore a black tank top, a large rubber duck taking up most of the front, a fishnet shirt, the sleeves ending at elbow, was under it, a few rips placed periodically on the arms. On one hand was a black fingerless-glove, a few safety pins jammed near the top. Her other hand was wrapped in bandages, almost yellow in color; she held it tenderly, as if it had been hurt badly in the past few days.

 

Though he clothing brought no stares, for which she was probably grateful. Her eyes and hair did. Her hair was black, as black as you could get, the light from the overhead ceiling made it shine, creating blue highlights that could, or could not have been there. It was long, and board straight with only a hint of a wave at the bottom, it feel well past her waist, it seemed to move of its own accord, swaying with each step she took. Her eyes were mostly unseen, cast down at the floor, as though if she looked up, she would trip and fall. Bringing unwanted attention to her. But when she did look up, not falling in the process, anyone looking would have lost the very ability to speak. Her eyes were blue, but not just any blue. They were a distant crystal blue, they reflected nothing but the surroundings, as if made of water, and they became a mirror. But not to her soul, as some people would say. A mirror to the world around, showing every fault in every person, every hardship that anyone would ever have to face.

 

Eventually, the taller girl did take notice of the stares, and her companions obvious discomfort at being watched by so many people. She scowled, her features twisting into an evil glare and scowl. “Stop staring, it's rude.” She said, quiet loudly, in a crisp voice, laced with venom, but with a musical tune interlaced. Almost immediately, everyone turned around, staring at either a locker or the wall, refusing to look back as the two continued their journey down the hall. Only when they had disappeared behind around the corner did they turn and being to disperse, conversing in hushed whispers about the two odd girls that had graced the halls seconds before.

 

The girl that had spoken before continued to scowl, even though the hall was empty. She looked back at her companion, and her face started to relax, the scowl fading into a small smile. “Why don't you walk with me Kanika, instead of always behind me?” She said, her voice sounded like violins, or maybe flutes. It was hard to tell, but it was a sweet melody all the same, a hint of amusement evident in her voice.

 

The girl called Kanika just shook her head, quickening her pace to fall in step with the other girl. “I don't like attention Sayuri…” She responded, her voice low, sweet wind chimes, dancing in the wind. “And you draw a lot of attention.” With that said she once again fell back to walking behind Sayuri.

 

Sayuri could only smile slightly, and suppress a chuckle that threatened to escape. “Are you saying I, Sayuri, attract attention?”

 

Kanika could only blink; staring at the other girl as if she had grown two heads, as if the question she asked was the stupidest question one could ask. It was true, Sayuri didn't want attention, and she loathed it, seconded only to Kanika herself. But there was just something about Sayuri that drew attention to her. Though Sayuri drew first stares, it was Kanika that often drew the most attention, once noticed.

 

Being so different, though she would swear up and down that Sayuri was better than her, as much as Sayuri tried to convince her other wise, Kanika simply refused to accept that she could be liked for anything other than her skills.

 

“How does your hand feel?” Kanika was knocked out her thoughts by Sayuri's soft question. She glanced around steadily, looking for people she knew were not there before answering, just as quietly.

 

“Katsu did a number on it… I'm not sure whether it's fractured or just sprained. I can't move it either way.”

 

Sayuri could only shake her head, all amusement gone from her voice and face. “I'm just glad I got there before Katsu and his gang could do anymore damage… You shouldn't go wandering into their territory, especially alone. You, of all people, should know that.”

 

Kanika cringed slightly at the truth in the words. She had been foolish that day, not even paying attention to where she was going. It had landed her smack in the middle of Katsu's territory.

 

-Flashback-

 

Kanika walked slowly along the well-trodden path, a book in her hand as she read through it slowly. She paid no attention to the surroundings, or the eyes that watched her, followed her every movement.

 

She wore little, a dark blue baggy button up shirt, a small key chain of a nameless character hanging from the top button. Her baggy black pants had but two chains, on one side, from pocket to the back of the pants, hooking on a little loop. The bottoms were wet, soaked from the puddles that littered the ground, still fed from the rain that fell from over head.

 

A small black umbrella kept the rain from her top half, and her book. Around the bottom of the umbrella was a spiked collar, wrapped around many times so to stay. No one knew that she sometimes used it as a weapon, if ever the need arouse.

 

So absorbed was she in the book she didn't notice the figure that blocked her path, not until it was to late and she had crashed into a solid chest. Stumbling back she dropped both her book and umbrella. Holding her nose in slight pain she looked up into cold green eyes.

 

She took an involuntary step back, clutching her nose, but no longer in pain. Before her stood Katsu, leader of one of the most feared gangs in almost all of Japan.

 

To most people he would have been perfect, unless you were an enemy, then he was a living hell. He wore baggy black cargo type pants. A blue zipped up vest was worn over a black muscle shirt. One pocket over the right side of his chest bulged in a box shape. A gray sweatband adorned his right wrist. His left hand was busy holding a cigarette in is mouth. The end glowing in the gray brought on by the rain.

 

Most girls thought him cute, even handsome. His wild black hair, falling everywhere above his neck cropped short, even over his cold, staring dew green eyes. But the girls didn't know his true nature. He didn't abuse women, just didn't have time for them, to tied up was he with gang related matters.

 

Some girls night have found that appealing, but most would flee after just a few days of the lifestyle. All but one. Those dew eyes had drawn her in, promising things never told. And she had stayed for so long. Until one day… She witnessed the massacre of another gang. Their leader beaten to an inch of their life. After that, she had left, refusing to come back and even say hello to her former love.

 

Now Kanika was faced with the would be leader. Not to say that he was a bad leader, on the contrary, he was a good leader, but sometimes to harsh, it was one of the reasons his love had left. He had never forgiven her, never trusted or loved again.

 

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Katsu said in a silky voice, laced with venom and hatred. “A little sprite, and all alone?” He smirked, a smirk that promised pain, and lots of it. Kanika shuddered, staring up at him. She was a good fighter. But Katsu was the best around.

 

Kanika bit her lip, thinking quickly. If he was alone, she could hold her own for long enough to get away, but if his damn lackeys were around, Sayuri might just be picking her up in pieces. Katsu's voice cut through her thoughts, her gaze flying to his own. “You should know not to wander in these parts of the woods… It can be… Bad for your health, especially so late.”

 

A few chuckles behind and around her confirmed her demise. His lackeys were here, and judging by the number of voices, there were a lot. But knowing Katsu, it wasn't even near half that of his gang.

 

Kanika turned swiftly, her eyes sweeping in a wide arc, counting just how many there were… 15. To many for her to even try an escape. But she wasn't going to sit back and let them beat her. She would go down fighting, one way or another.

 

With a light growl, she launched herself at the nearest would-be attacker. But a strong, sudden, hold on her wrist stopped her. Whoever was holding her, twisted her arm around painfully, successfully pinning it behind her back, and drawing her back to their front, effectively pinning it for good.

 

There was a sickening crack as her holder twisted her wrist more. Pain flared up her arm, she wasn't sure if it was broken or sprained. She had done both, and over the years, that had come to feel the same.

 

“Seems this bitch needs to be taught a lesson.” Katsu's voice was silky and husky, right neck to her ear, his chin resting on her shoulder. “Women should stay at home and take care of the house, not run around trying to fight gangs. It's dangerous business.”

 

Kanika glared at the nearest person, hissing out. “Bite me.”

 

Katsu merely grinned. “Don't give offers people might take up.” Kanika gasped, but before she could say anything, she was thrown down, sprawling sideways on the ground as the other surrounded her.

 

She didn't move, staring at the advancing feet in a daze. The first sharp blow to her abdomen awoke her. She curled in a ball, shielding her head and injured wrist from the onslaught of kicks that were aimed everywhere from her shin to her shoulders.

 

Time held no meaning, each second passed in stingy pain as the pouring rain washed away the blood gushing from her wounds, stinging as the dirt ran into other wounds below it. She whimpered slightly, trying to curl into a smaller ball, to escape the pain.

 

Then, almost as quickly as they had started, they had stopped. And the feet shuffled away quickly. Kanika's head snapped up, narrowed eyes glancing around warily, searching for the source of discontentment.

 

Eventually her eyes fell on Katsu, his backed turned, blocking a figure that he seemed to be glaring at. After a few hushed words exchanged he finally stepped aside, disgruntled. Kanika could not help but smile slightly.

 

The other gang members parted, allowing Sayuri through. She wore a black hoodie with a green and white mecha on it, her hands in the front pocket. The only other clothing that could be seen was semi-baggy black cargo pants, much like the ones Katsu wore, but these ones were hung with key chains, and hung around her lithe frame, effectively hiding the shoes underneath.

 

Sayuri bent down next to Kanika, setting a hand on her shoulder. The younger girl hissed in pain, rolling onto her back, staring straight up, apparently not bothered by the rain stinging her face and mixing with her few tears of pain.

 

Kanika looked back to the side, and her eyes widened. The entire gang, except for Katsu had disappeared, as if into thin air. She was jolted and arms closed around her shoulders and under her knees, picking her up and pulling her against a small chest.

 

She looked worriedly up toward Sayuri's face. But her violet eyes were not looking at Kanika, but rather at Katsu, staring with cold indifference. “You know my terms for allowing this bitch to go free, do you not Sayuri-san?”

 

Sayuri scowled and nodded. Katsu only grinned and turned, walking away, flicking his cigarette to the ground before fading in the din of the rain. Sayuri finally looked down at Kanika's face, she smiled slightly, shaking her head. “What have I told you?” She scolded, halfheartedly.

 

Kanika looked down, embarrassment staining her cheeks a tint of red. “I wasn't paying attention where I was going. I was reading.” She mumbled out, trying to squirm free of Sayuri's arms.

 

Sayuri obliged and set her on her feet, holding her steady until she had gained her proper balance. Without a thought to the cold rain, Sayuri had stripped off her hoodie, revealing a black button up shirt with a logo of a swirl over the right chest area, she threw the hoodie at Kanika, who put it on gratefully. Sayuri turned and pick up the forgotten umbrella and book, wrapping an arm around Kanika's shoulders to help her down the path.

 

-End Flashback-

 

By the time Kanika had finished reminiscing about her encounter with Katsu, Sayuri had opened the door to the office and dragged her in. Kanika looked around in mild curiosity as Sayuri talked to an old lady with graying hair and a crisp blue business suit at the desk.

 

The office was like most offices, well, most that was… Most offices were cluttered with paperwork. But this office, though there was a lot of paper work, was very neat and clean. A little to clean for Kanika's taste. It had an unnatural feeling to it. Being so clean, it looked as if everything was glued in place, never to be moved again.

 

She looked back toward Sayuri and the old lady. The woman didn't seem to approve of either of their choice of clothing. And she was promptly lecturing both of them. Though Sayuri seemed to zone out within the first few seconds, Kanika listened with mild interest.

 

“… You're showing too much skin young lady. I'm afraid you will have to find some way to cover that up.” She continued, staring pointedly at Sayuri. “And is that a tattoo!” The lady looked as if she was about to have a heart attack as she pointed to the small mouse on Sayuri's abdomen.

 

Sayuri's attention switched back to the woman at the mention of her tattoo. “So… What of it?” She glared heatedly at the woman. She was very fond of her tattoo, she didn't even remember when, or even why she had gotten it. Kanika blamed it on old age. But Sayuri would only glare, she was not old she would constantly say. To which Kanika would constantly reply that she was older than herself, therefore making her old in Kanika's eyes.

 

“I'm afraid you're going to have to cover that up miss. That is very inappropriate for school.” She said, apparently over her minor heart attack. Sayuri could only glare.

 

“I shouldn't bother.” She muttered. “After all once we get a uniform, it's not like anyone will see it.” The old lady could only huff at the logic in it, as she turned her attention to Kanika, surveying her with a critical eye.

 

Kanika visibly shrank away, but the lady took no notice as her eyes ran up and down the clothing, taking in every detail. “I'm afraid you'll have to take off all those key chains, along with the safety pins that are holding them up.” Kanika winched, she liked her key chains. “And for god's sake. Take some of those chains off.” The lady turned around and started typing on her computer again, the screen glaring sharply on her wrinkled face. Kanika scowled in her direction and glanced at her friend. But Sayuri was busy studying a paper tacked to the wall. Kanika inched over and saw that it was a lunch menu. Sayuri's finger landed on a small square marked with there current date, showing Kanika exactly what to expect for lunch. And lets just say, neither of them was looking forward to it.

 

“Ladies! Please pay attention.” The woman's nasally voice broke into both of their thoughts, bringing their gazes to look at her as she held two different papers up. Sayuri walked over and grabbed one, trying to grab the other, which the lady pulled back. “This paper is for Kanika-san.” Sayuri scowled, stepping back for Kanika to step forward. Which she did, hesitantly, reaching for the paper with a tentative hand.

 

She grabbed it and stepped back, the lady looked at her funny, but turned back to her computer. “If you will just sit down at those seats.” She pointed to two hard backed chairs sitting in a small corner. “I will call two people to guide you around the school. Before Sayuri could open her mouth and complain that they didn't need guides, the lady had already picked up the phone and was talking quickly.

 

------

 

A short and balding man stood at the front of the small class, a book in one hand, a piece of chalk in the other. He lectured on and on, occasionally writing things down on the board. He wore the standard clothing of a male professor, a white button up shirt that did nothing for his large mid-section, and gray slacks, his gray coat hung over the chair behind the desk placed in the corner of the room, the glaring sun shining through the window. Making the room hotter than it should have been, especially with snow on the ground, granted unwanted snow, but snow nonetheless.

 

The classroom phone ringing broke him from his constant state of lecture; his head turning slowly over to it hanging near the wall. Slowly he set his book down and shuffled over to it, taking it off the hook and walking out the door to take the conversation in private.

 

All the girls turned and started talking to each other, throwing occasional glances at a boy sitting in the front.

 

The boy in question was attractive, which would warrant the stares, but he took no notice of it. He shoved some of his short grayish purple hair out of his face, sticking some behind his ear with a hand as pale as the rest of his body. His hair was cropped short, but not as short as most boys, two pieces fell down on each side, framing his face, one longer than the other. His inquisitive purple eyes glanced from the board back to his paper as he continued to record everything that the professor had said and written.

 

He had a kind smile, and it was currently directed at his paper, filled with notes both the teachers, and his own. He wore the traditional Kaiwaia High school uniform. The black shirt with white trim along the bottom, the cloth and trim coming up in an upside down “V” form in the very front. There was white trim along the bottom of the collar that sat halfway up her neck, a short whit tie, ending mid-chest, fell from under the collar. The slacks were the same color as the shirt, bunching around the knee that was bent on the chair; they fell over the brown shoes that he preferred to wear with said uniform.

 

Setting his pen down, the boy sat back, smiling at the ceiling for no particular reason. The boy was attractive, with a lean and lanky body, he almost looked feminine. But that didn't stop people from liking him. But for some reason, he didn't let girls get near him, rarely boys even.

 

The professor came over and stood in front of the boy's desk, apparently finished with the phone call. “Yuki-san… You are wanted down in the office.” A collective gasp went around the entire room. Sohma Yuki was never wanted at the office, it just didn't go together. He was the perfect student. Excelling in everything, and never in trouble. So why was he suddenly wanted there? It was anyone's guess.

 

The boy called Yuki blinked slightly. He stood after a moment's hesitation; quickly gathering his things up, and setting them neatly back in his briefcase like book bag. He bowed to the professor and quickly walked out the door.

 

The teacher turned, but not back to his board and endless lesson. He instead turned to another student. The student took a few seconds to even look up, his orange hair, cropped even shorter than the other boys, tousled as if he had just woken up. His crimson red eyes were glazed over, as if had indeed just woken up. His arms were sprawled on the desk, the sleeves to his uniform shirt pushed up. His pant legs weren't bunch up, but rather straight and lying smoothly, due mainly to the fact that his legs were stretched in front of him, out under his desk. They fell over white and gray sneakers that lay far beyond his desk, due to his long legs.

 

Unlike the other boys, he wore no tie with his uniform, which often got him in some trouble with the ladies in the office. Still, he stared up at the glaring professor groggily.

 

“The office also wants you Kyo-san…” The professor said in a crisp voice, obviously not liking this Kyo much. Said boy just huffed and hastily shoved everything, including his empty note sheet into his bag. Standing quickly and walks briskly out the door, happy to be free of the class he had dubbed the most boring.

 

Kyo walked hastily down the hallway, turning a corner and nearly bumping into Yuki's slow moving back. Yuki looked around and glared. “Watch where you're going. Baka neko.” With that said, Yuki turned back and continued walking, slightly to the side to allow room for Kyo to walk.

 

Kyo could only scowl, walking next to him, glaring at the floor. “Maybe if you didn't walk so dame slow, people wouldn't have to worry about bumping into you!” He glared up at Yuki, who merely ignored him.

 

-----

 

Sayuri shifted uncomfortably in the stiff chair, Kanika, sitting next to her, merely lounged, either ignoring the stiffness, or not caring. Or, though Sayuri could not believe it possible, she was actually enjoying it.

 

Kanika glanced over at her friend, who was continually shifting. She sighed, sitting up. “Will you stop that please?” She said in a hushed whisper.

 

Before Sayuri could respond, the office door opened and two figures stepped through.

 

 

Well, that's the first chapter. I really should have made it longer. But my leg was getting numb, and Ki-chan was getting mad at me for procrastinating… Oh well. I hope you guys like it. Please review for me. It will really make my day.