The Sohma Litters *a Traditions Sequel*

BY : Anna
Category: Fruits Basket > General
Dragon prints: 7863
Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

In this series, I have ventured into almost every angle of life that I can with the characters I have embraced. There are other ways that people chose to live and I do not wish to leave them out, but I have not found a character here that seems to fit those worlds. I have collected many friends in my life,(Its a hobby) and I know that their voices speak in my writing, but some have been silent up to this point. I am compelled to venture into the world of those, with tiny dips in my future fanfictions. I hope that those of you who enjoy my work will aid me in bringing these stories to life. I am curious what genre of anime some would have me write these in. I have watched or read many, and though I am not proficient at some characters, I would do my best. I also apologize to any readers offended by a slip in my disclaimers on this series. At one point I failed to warn of the BDSM content and had a nasty review regarding it. I will attempt to do better in the future.


Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Cow in the Moonlight; A Tiger in her Den; A Cat on a Mission


Third person POV


Haru looked up at the stars as he stood outside of the tall downtown office building. He was later than usual and Kagura was sure to be angry with him. He looked down at the side doorway as a shadowed figure emerged. The long coat billowing at the edges, barely hiding the slim figure it clothed, and the neatly combed brown hair were enough to assure him of his contact, but to make sure he called out.
“Hey, Bud.” The man turned to him, “can you spare a light?” and the man reached into his pocket with his free hand, as he held tightly to the briefcase in his other. When he lifted the lighter to Haru’s cigarette, the ushi could easily see the deep blue eyes that regarded him suspiciously.
“Are you Sohma-san?” he asked. Haru nodded and pointed to the navy blue sedan he had borrowed from Hatori for this job. The stranger nodded and moved toward it.
Within minutes they were speeding through the downtown streets en route to the airport. No words were spoken; this was no casual ride. He was not interested in the man or his business. He was just a client and it was Haru’s job to get him to his destination, not make him a friend. The stranger seemed to like that and merely watched the world pass by his window.
Once there, Haru escorted the man to the check in counter and watched him move to board the plane. Nearly to the docking tube, Haru noted an odd looking figure and made his way closer.
The redhead looked up and narrowed his eyes at the two-tone haired man that was weaving through the crowd in his direction. Almost there, Haru stopped and spoke to the target and the other moved in from the other side.
The target reached for his coat, and Haru reacted by grabbing his arm. The redhead stopped behind them and restrained the man all the more, stopping him from carrying out his attack on either Haru or the client.
Haru’s client disappeared through the turn in the tube and was safely on board. The target slumped in disappointment. Haru smirked at him and then smiled up at the redhead.
“We got him again, eh Abyssinian?” he said.
“Indeed, Ushi. Perhaps you would like to come and celebrate with Balinese and I?” Aya asked.
“Naw. I am already late. If Kag . . eh, Buta-san doesn’t kill me, I’ll see you next mission.” He said as he headed back to Hatori’s car in the parking lot.
“You Sohma’s are all alike, you know?” Aya said as he watched the young man walk away.
Haru had taken the job after with the group of private investigators and security guards, and soon after he had gone undercover as an assassin in the poorly organized group of murderers and cutthroats that were the mainstay of the Tokyo underground. He found he enjoyed the life, with the right amount of danger and intrigue to bring out the bull in his soul, and yet the proper backup that he would not really be at risk.
Aya and Yohji proved very capable and he liked them. He wasn’t sure what he thought of Shuldig and Crawford but, since most of his missions were in the company of either the redhead or the blond, it wasn’t very important.
Tonight he watched the traffic thin out as he made his way home. It was a long day, but he didn’t have a mission for two days and planned to take his family on a little trip.
Kagura was waiting as he pulled up. He smiled a nervous smile as he stepped out of the car. Kagura glared at him, but didn’t say anything yet.
“I’m off for two days, what would you say to a trip to the lake?” he asked. Kagura eyed him confusedly.
“The lake? The Sohma house on the lake?” she asked. Haru nodded with a look of surprise that she would even think of any other house. “Can we take Kisa and Hiro?” she asked. Haru nodded again. “And Momiji and Miyu?” another nod. “What have you been up to?” she said, anger once more in her features. “You never want to take them anywhere with us. It must have been terrible for you to go to these lengths to make up to me!”
Haru laughed. Not a chuckle, but an all out belly laugh. Kagura blinked at him, and scowled. Haru laughed harder. It was infectious and the Buta began to chuckle along with him. Soon they were hugging and guffawing in unison, as they held each other up from the pull of gravity on their laughter wracked bodies.
“Ah, Kagura. Will you ever change? Scratch that, don’t ever change.” He said as he pulled her into a deep needy kiss.
Kagura responded with enthusiasm as always to the kiss of her true love. The small woman was firmly in control of her world, with the possible exception of her wayward husband, but she had long ago realized that the two of them were linked to the depth of their souls.
She would do anything for her man, and was sure that Haru would support and protect her with his very life.
And the two of them would never allow harm to come to the children they had born.
Haru lifted her off the ground as he slid his tongue into her small mouth and claimed every inch of her with a possessiveness born of pure love. He knew every dimple and crease in her body, and this night he would once more map them out.
Kagura pulled him behind her into the house and out of the moonlight.


Kisa glared at the canvas, sure that it was purposely defying her. She lifted her brush once more and began to stroke it across the surface. It connected with the previous smear of oils and began to blend. The colors melded in perfect harmony and the design formed on the plain white expanse that she was attempting to turn into her latest work of art. Then the brush seemed to slip and she screeched.
Hiro heard his wife and rushed to the art studio of their home to find her hurling objects across the room with surprising force.
“Kisa, is there something wrong?” he asked ducking to avoid a flying tube of paint.
Kisa turned to him and glared, then her face softened as she noted his wary look.
“No, Hiro. It’s just hormones. I’ll be fine in a few months.” She said.
Hiro sighed and shook his head. If he lived that long, she meant.

Kyo’s POV

I sat in Hatori’s office at the hospital as he and I poured through every piece of literature that had any reference to PhychoNeuroPlasticity. In a nutshell: the brains ability to train a new part of itself to do something it had lost the ability to do.
The book I was reading pertained to the ability to speak by retraining another part of the brain after a severe injury to the speech center. Hatori was leafing through the doctorates of other specialists on Psycho-therapy involving victims of brain damage and their work in retraining other losses that could possibly pertain to Yuki’s disorder.
It was long frustrating work but we kept at it long into the night, as the baby was due any day and Yuki’s sight was still only partial. I was determined that he see before the baby was born.
The family was supportive and they had devised a plan to turn the poor Nezumi back and forth once a day until the therapy had its desired effect.
Yuki was patient, but I was tired of coming home to find him exhausted from the experience. Smiling, happy, but exhausted just the same.


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