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The Power of Memory	By : Caerfree Category: Fruits Basket > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4322 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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.

Chapter List
- 1-The Power of Memory
- 1
Title: The Power of Memory
Author: Caer
Author's Note: Hoo boy is this dark... for me. I don't know that I'd ever get
darker than this, though some of you hardcore people will probably
yawn.
Please don't get confused. This story runs backwards.
*hides behind bush watching unsuspecting fic readers*
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dark Yaoi, lemon
Pairings: YukixKyou
Status: Complete (One Shot)
Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket, nor am I making any money from this fanfiction.
~~
"Still awake?"
Kyou turned swiftly, his back hitting the wall, stealing his breath
for a moment as he turned to the gray haired young man in the door.
He fought down the urge to drop to his knees and placed a shaking
hand on his heart as if to still it. Yuki just smiled gently,
walking into the room.
"I'm sorry. I just thought I heard you up. Are you okay?"
"I woke you?" Kyou asked, worry and panic coming unbidden. He
leaned against the wall if only to dock his height by an inch or
two. Yuki was a bit taller than he was anyway, but standing so tall
made him nervous. Lately, everything made him so.
"No," Yuki lied, pushing back the long red hair from his bowed
head. "I was reading." He looked around Kyou's room, making a note
to bring some catalogues so the young man could pick some different
decor. Flowery and feminine, the room had probably belonged to one
of the female Sohmas, or perhaps one of the higher servants. All
were gone now, except one maid and a gardener. Yuki had gotten rid
of the old staff, afraid that one of them might provoke a bad memory
for Kyou, after he had almost fallen down the stairs at seeing the
gardener.
Now, he stroked a comforting hand along Kyou's pale cheek, noting the
dark circles under the young man's eyes.
"You're having nightmares again."
He nodded, closing his eyes and concentrating on Yuki's calming voice
and hand. "Hatori said I shouldn't remember anything, but I feel
things... and these scars." He ran a hand along the tiny white scars
that raked down his chest, echoes of fingernails, marring his pale
skin, skin that had not seen the sun for three years. "I think what
I imagine in my mind is just as bad as what actually happened, if not
worse. Yuki didn't respond, doubting that very much. "And I haven't
forgotten the fear. It's a part of me." His voice shook and he
brought his hand to his head in frustration. "I'm so confused. I
don't even know who I am anymore."
Yuki embraced him, tightly; pulled him as close as possible. "I
know," he replied. "I can't even imagine." He buried his face in
Kyou's neck, inhaling the scent of his clean, sleepy skin, digging
his hands into the long soft hair. Kyou was content to lean there,
his thin arms hesitantly coming up to rest around Yuki's slim waist,
taking comfort from the one person who made him feel safe, even
though he didn't understand why.
Yuki nibbled on the boy's neck softly, licking and kissing until he
could feel Kyou's body responding. His breathing became heavy and
his body twitched into Yuki's, his head tilting slightly to allow
better access to the smooth skin. Yuki pulled his hair aside and
spoke softly into the cat's ear.
"You'll never be who you were, Kyou. I'm so sorry for that. But we
can figure out who you are `now' together and create new memories."
Kyou shut his eyes, his chest fluttering at the soft voice in his ear
and he nodded. He had no where else to go and yet"
"I think I would like that," he said leaning into the other man's
arms, allowing Yuki to access his lips for a hungry kiss while a hand
trailed up and down his thigh.
"I want to make love to you, Kyou." Kyou moaned weakly and nodded.
Yuki knew he would accept. He was conditioned not to refuse, and
though it could be construed as taking advantage of him, Yuki felt
that it made things easier. He moved the slender young man slowly
toward the bed, turning him and kissing him deeply before pushing him
down and settling comfortably atop the angular body, between the thin
legs that spread instinctively beneath him. Yuki was already hard,
his need pressing against Kyou's stomach. Nevertheless, he took his
time, kissing Kyou gently, drawing him to participate while slowly
rubbing himself over Kyou's own hardening cock.
He looked deep into the hazed ruby eyes, looking for any fear or
confusion and grateful that there was none so far, but rather a
drunken, awed lust. Yuki was determined to do this right. No rush,
no loss of control. He sat up and untied Kyou's robe slowly and then
his own, continuing to thrust his hips and enjoy the way Kyou's lips
parted and his brow furrowed at the sensations. He removed his own
robe completely and reached for the small bottle of lubrication he
had purchased. Then, wetting his hand with it, he grasped both of
their cocks at once, stroking them together. Kyou moaned as if in
pain and thrust his hips needily.
"Yuki," he sighed and Yuki closed his eyes in thanks, that he was
able to hear that husky voice again. Trailing his hand down over
Kyou's balls and beneath, he began to work a slick finger inside of
Kyou as he leaned over the boy, kissing him, finger and tongue
thrusting at the same time, making the slim figure jerk against his
chest and mouth in pleasure as he found Kyou's inner spot deftly.
Finally, he drew away, kissing Kyou's chest a few times before
hooking the slender ankles over his shoulders, slicking his cock with
more lubrication and positioning himself at Kyou's entrance, staring
down at the site Kyou made.
Not scared, not afraid, just taking in every sensation, but with
complete trust. His hair was dark with perspiration and his lips
were bruised from use. His eyes were closed, but a red orb made
itself visible when nothing happened and Yuki smiled as he saw that
old fire... a dull flame at the moment, but there at least. He had
missed this Kyou, this burning spirit. This was what he had desired
for over four years, and now he finally had Kyou back in his arms.
"Damn it, what are you waiting for, kuso-nezumi?"
Yuki looked into those eyes greedily, his own purple-gray orbs
matching in intensity as tightened his hips and pushed in, slow and
hard. Kyou accepted him easily, a look of surprise and lust on his
face as he took Yuki's cock to the hilt, arching his back and closing
his eyes.
"Unh... Yuki!"
It almost made it easier, that he knew instinctively how to take a
cock. Yuki wanted no pain inflicted on his lover ever again if he
could help it. He poured more lubrication on his hand before leaning
down and kissing Kyou deeply, thrusting his tongue and himself into
the whimpering figure, drowning him in sensation. Then taking a hold
of Kyou's need and sliding the thick member through his slick fingers
as he took the boy gently, he changed his angle until Kyou was
moaning in earnest, unable to resist the pleasure being inflicted on
him. He came quietly, tensing, quivering and biting Yuki's shoulder
quite roughly, his body clinging to Yuki so hard, the slender Sohma
boy could feel the nails digging into his back painfully. Then Kyou
sighed and relaxed back into the bed, while Yuki held his limp,
shaking form. Kyou's brow was furrowed and he shook his head back
and forth.
"God, Yuki, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Yuki held him tighter? "Why?"
He shook his head, strands of his red hair clinging to his forehead
wetly. There were tears of frustration in his eyes as he looked at
the ceiling and then Yuki's eyes, shaking his head.
"I don't know."
But Yuki knew. He held the boy tight.
"You listen to me, Kyou." Kyou flinched at his commanding tone, but
Yuki used it on purpose, knowing he needed to make this
clear. "There is no reason for you to be sorry for this." He lifted
his fingers that were coated in release, and traced a dab across
Kyou's lips briefly dipping a dripping finger in the small mouth,
before kissing him, sucking the ejaculate off greedily. "It makes
feel good," he said, hating to use those exact words but knowing that
they would calm Kyou. He tapped him on the nose. "You had better
get used to it because I plan on doing this to you all night."
Kyou nodded weakly. Grateful for some reason.
"Whatever happened, I'm glad you came back, mouse."
Yuki smiled. He kissed the slack, bruised lips lazily, still
pressing his hips softly, waiting for Kyou to recover. He had no
intention of claiming his own release tonight. Tonight was for the
cat, to show him what love was. To fulfill a promise. He planned to
make love to this boy all night, to make a memory that would stay
with him forever, chasing away the fear and doubt. He was content to
just be in Kyou, to make him new again from the inside. With time,
he knew he could make right what had gone so terribly wrong.

"Kyou... Kyou, wake up."
That voice, light and gentle, male but with a feminine quality to
it. How long had it been since he had heard that damn voice? Red
eyes fluttered open to focus on the slender figure standing over
him. As his consciousness began to assemble itself, Kyou felt fear,
anxiety and confusion bubble in his chest. He opened his eyes wide,
not knowing what was happening. Gray hair and deep eyes of the same
color, with a hint of purple came into view. Yuki.
Hatori was on the other side, standing over him. It made him
nervous, but he didn't know why. He looked away from the man and
back at the other, who's presence seemed to give him an immense sense
of comfort in the wake of his growing fear. Looking past them, he
could make out the bars on the outside of the window. It seemed they
were still inside his cage. That was clear, though it was the only
concept at the moment that was.
"Yuki?" He grated out. It felt like he hadn't used his voice for a
long time, even his lifelong rival, now friend's name felt foreign on
his tongue. "What happened?" He whispered. "Why are you back so
soon?"
Yuki shook his head, not wanting to speak. He smiled gently and
touched his hand to Kyou's cheek. "How do you feel?"
"Strange..." Kyou admitted. He looked over at Hatori, who had walked
to the window, looking through the bars at the rain outside, possibly
to afford the boys some privacy. He made Kyou very nervous for some
reason and he wasn't sure why. He had this strange urge... a feeling
like something was expected of him, like he was in trouble... but he
couldn't remember. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Yuki.
"You... have you guys been fucking with my memory? Is that why he's
here?" Kyou gestured at Hatori and sat up shakily. Yuki helped him.
The gray haired boy laughed confusing the cat even more before he
gently hugged him. "Kyou, you don't know how glad I am to hear you
talk like that." He had tears in his eyes and Kyou began to feel
worried, and scared. Unconsciously, he began to scratch at his arm.
"Why?" He said, his voice edgy. "Why are you saying that? What
happened?" He looked at Hatori for answers, but the man just bowed
his head, leaning against the window. He was shaking. "Oi... Hatori."
"Kyou," Yuki grabbed his chin gently and made him look just at him,
into his deep lavender eyes. He stopped scratching at his arm when a
gentle hand held it down. "There are a lot of things that happened
to you." He said seriously. "Try to understand. It's been three
years since I've been back... three years that we've taken away from
you because of Akito."
The name sent a shiver down Kyou's back and he jerked into action,
trying to move from his bed, and Yuki's arms, onto the floor. The
urge was immense and crushing. Vaguely he could see pale, sickened
look come over Yuki's features and it frightened him more. He had to
get to the floor. He was so scared. He would be punished... but Yuki
held him tight.
"It's okay, it's okay. He's dead, Kyou." Kyou looked up,
scared. "He's dead. He can't hurt you anymore. I promise."
"H... he... hurt me?" He didn't remember. Had it really been three
years? Yuki did look older... taller, a little more filled out.
Kyou held on to Yuki for dear life, and the mouse held him just as
tightly, stroking his back, keeping eye contact and whispering soft
assurances. Even when they had solved their differences and become
friends before Yuki left, Yuki hadn't treated him so delicately, so
gently. Something really bad must have happened. Why was he so
afraid? Why did he feel like he had done something wrong? He hadn't
had he? Why did he feel like he had to be punished? What the hell
had happened?
"God... Yuki, what did he do to me?"
"Try to forget about it for now." Kyou looked up and Yuki nodded,
brushing his long hair back from his face comfortingly. When had it
gotten so long? "Don't think about it. Let's just get you out of
here."
That seemed more like a command than a request and for some reason,
Kyou felt comfortable with it. He let Yuki help him stand. He still
had an immense urge to kneel on the floor, to lower himself, but he
fought it. Looking around, it seemed he had nothing here. There was
a bare bed, a bowl of water, the toilet and the sink. No books, no
pictures, nothing. Though he knew he had brought a few personal
items when they first put him in here. Did they take them away, or
had he done something with them? On the sink, was a toothbrush, and
a hairbrush. That and the robe he was clothed in seemed to be all
that was left.
Hatori was holding the door open and Kyou looked at the two items on
the sink. "Should we take those?" he pointed. Yuki shook his head
vehemently.
"Leave them. I'll buy you fresh ones. Let's just go."
Kyou nodded and walked hesitantly toward the door. His heart was
starting to pound in his chest as he got closer to the light. His
steps were beginning to falter, even though Yuki pulled him
purposefully toward the door. He took a breath. Why did it feel so
hard? This was freedom. He stepped outside and looked around.
Every tree, every building, every open space made him panicky. It
was too open. He looked at the ground instead, watching his feet as
they moved one in front of the other. Yuki was murmuring something
to him, but the blood was rushing to his head and he couldn't hear.
He whimpered and crumpled to the ground, arms crossed, hugging
himself and scratching at his back, through his shirt.
"I can't!" He said, in a small voice. Yuki was on the ground with
him, holding his shoulders. He felt sick to his stomach and he
wanted to turn and run back into the cage behind them, and damn it!
He didn't understand why!
"Yes you can. You can do this, Kyou." Yuki was saying in a shaky
voice. "Please. There's no reason to be scared" Arms pulled at him,
but he couldn't move. "Please, Kyou."
"I can't," he said, scratching harder at his shoulders and
arms. "Don't you understand? I'll be punished. Somebody will get
hurt."
He vaguely heard footsteps behind them and a hand on his back. He
looked up to see Hatori pushing a hypodermic needle into the pale
flesh on his arm. Some part of him felt grateful as he sank dazedly
into Yuki's embrace. He body began to relax and the world started to
darken.
"I told you it wouldn't be that easy." Hatori's blurred voice
said. "The memories are blocked, but the conditioning is still
there."
He felt himself being lifted. Conditioning? He struggled. He
desperately needed to know. What had happened? But darkness was
already closing in as he felt himself lifted and drifted away to the
gentle bouncing of being carried.

Yuki wrinkled his nose in distaste as he made his way up the narrow
staircase of an apartment building that by all rights should have
been condemned. There was a dirty diaper left on the stair and the
ancient dirty red rug that covered the stairs was worn off on most
corners. It smelled like piss and other bodily excretions. A single
tacky antique wall torch on each of the five floors was the only
illumination creeping it's weak way toward the dank corners, but
failing in the end.
At the third floor, after kicking off a bum, who was thankfully male -
not that one could tell- the mouse of the Sohma clan made his way to
apartment 302 and knocked on the door.
No answer.
He knocked again, and a third time before a tired voice, that sounded
like it was down low and right by the door answered. It was slurred,
slow and deep.
"I don't have any money, I don't want to be saved and the whore is
downstairs, room 203."
Yuki blinked.
"I'm none of those people."
"Then I'm not here."

Angry... Fed up... Broken.
Yuki wasn't surprised. He figured he wouldn't sound quite the same
after three years away at college. His voice was a tad lower now,
not quite as feminine. He decided to clarify why the man should open
the door. He growled.
"Open the door, or I'll break it down and make you wish you were
never born."
Shuffling, the clack of metal from latches being pulled and then the
door open to reveal a bedraggled man in his day old work clothes,
reeking of smoke and booze. He gazed hazily at Yuki from his good
eye.
"Is that some sort of a pathetic attempt at a joke?"
Yuki eyed him coldly, looking in past the bedraggled man at the
apartment beyond. It wasn't as bad as he expected... relatively clean,
though it was littered with beer bottles from a recent binge.
"Can I come in?"
Hatori stepped aside, a barely raised arm gesturing him past.
"Akito sent you then?"
Yuki turned, angry.
"I'm not his puppet."
"Bullshit, Yuki." He said, sounding a tad more sober,
bitterer. "We're all his puppets."
Yuki returned his attention to the tiny one room apartment, kneeling
down to pack the suitcase that sat beside the bed. The man was
obviously used to running.
"Not anymore. He's dead," Yuki replied.
Silence, save for the sound of Yuki gathering clothes.
"Thank god." There was an immense amount of relief in that voice,
reminding Yuki of his own relief when the clan head's creepy personal
attendant Zakuro had called with the news.
"So you're here to bring us all back? To take his place?" Hatori
fished in his pocket for his cigarettes while he watched Yuki stuff
what he could into the small suitcase as he answered.
"I don't see anybody else jumping in to do it." He turned to Hatori,
anger barely contained in his condemning gaze. "Someone has to clean
up the mess he left behind." He stood up, handing Hatori the
case. "I'm surprised you left. You were always under his thumb."
Hatori broke from Yuki's gaze and stared at the dirty carpet.
"About three months after you left, he molested Hiro and then told me
to erase the memory so he could do it again. That was the last
straw. I'd had enough. I refused and ran. I told Hiro's parents so
they could keep him away. I've been hiding ever since."
Yuki looked at the man, in pity, understanding and loathing. But he
loathed himself just as much. They were cowards... all of them. He
turned toward the door, waiting for Hatori to follow.
"I don't care what you do after this. Stay. Go. Die. But you're
coming now to help me with Kyou. You will not refuse."
Hatori winced. "No, I suppose I won't," he said resignedly. Then
soft, "Kyou... how is he?"
Yuki bowed his head, his hand frozen on the cold brass knob of the
door.
"You reduced him to a six year old child and left him with a madman.
How would you expect?"
Hatori shook his head. "Maybe it was best. How can you mourn the
loss of freedom and happiness if you don't remember it?"
There was no answer. Yuki opened the door silently. "Are you
coming?"
Hatori felt a small knot of tension begin to knot in his stomach. He
didn't dare ask what had happened.
"Yes."
Kyou...
"Yes," he said again, trying to draw strength from the empty word, to
use it as some sort of weapon against the world, against the
nightmare.
Kyou... what had happened?
"Just let me grab my wallet."

A sharp blade of evening light through the opening door pierced the
dank interior of the small, one room structure, filling the corners
with dim light. As his eyes adjusted, Yuki could make out the
sleepy squinting of the ragged figure in the rectangle of light as he
raised his head from the floor where he slept, dressed in nothing but
a thin robe that barely covered the tops of his long legs.
"Good evening, Kyou," he said gently. The slender figure jerked
awake, immediately pushed himself up from his sleeping position and
kneeled on his knees in front of the other boy, bowing his head
submissively, his hands at his side. Yuki sighed silently, trying
not to let his frustration show; knowing it would only frighten the
subdued figure in front of him.
"Kyou... Kyou, you don't have to do that, remember?" Kyou looked up,
the panic already building in his eyes. Yuki quickly lay a
comforting hand on the top of the orange head. "I'm not mad. I'm
not mad." He said, his voice rising as he felt Kyou begin to
tremble. "You haven't done anything wrong."
Kyou calmed a bit and looked at Yuki, confused. Yuki stroked his
hair affectionately. "You've been very good, Kyou. I'm very happy."
Kyou's shoulders relaxed slightly and he leaned his head into Yuki's
gentle hand. Yuki looked into the red eyes as he stroked the boy's
hair, desperately looking for something in those ruby depths that
spoke of the fire that used to be. But though they were beautiful as
always, they held nothing but anxiety and fear. Yuki could feel his
guilt eating slowly at his stomach in the form of what was most
assuredly an ulcer and for a brief moment he felt like throwing up.
Even in the dim light, he could see the scars on the boy's legs and
chest where Akito had whipped him mercilessly. There were fresh
scratches also, on his pale shoulders from where he would clutch
fearfully at his shoulders, trying to punish himself for any slight
indiscretion. Yuki couldn't even get him to leave his cell without
hyperventilating. Akito had made sure that he had broken the boy
completely, made him believe that he was worthless but for one
thing. The words of his last letter, received after returning,
burned like a painful brand on the forefront of his mind, never far
from his thoughts.
`It's my parting gift for you, Yuki. Something to remember me by.'
The light touch of fingers on the tie of his robe brought him back
and he looked down to see Kyou untying the knot and letting the silk
fall open. Already, his cock was beginning to rise at the sight of
the slender boy kneeling before him, looking up at him for approval,
even as his lips came unbearably close. Yuki closed his eyes,
cursing himself as he allowed Kyou to do as he had been trained. He
hated it and yet he desired it with a hungry passion he could not
deny. He clutched a hand in the red hair and pulled Kyou's head
gently closer. This was the only way he could see Kyou right now,
for if he didn't take his pleasure from the boy when he visited the
small cell, Kyou would surely rake his back and neck raw with self-
punishment. Yuki had been trying to change things, to help Kyou, to
undo what Akito did... but three years of abuse and conditioning made
it nearly impossible.
So he was taking it step by step, not wanting to leave the boy alone
for too long, but knowing that he had to do this every time. He
wanted Kyou, desired him more and more every day, he couldn't deny
it, but not like this... never like this.
`I trained it. I trained it just for you, Yuki.'
He swallowed a cry as a nimble tongue darted here and there on his
cock, tracing the vein underneath before exploring the tiny slit at
the end, and then teasing the under-ridge until he was dripping with
prerelease. Kyou obediently lapped it up, using one hand to rub
Yuki's thigh while the other rolled his sack gently between soft
fingers. Once Yuki seemed ready, he let the heated flesh slide
warmly into his mouth and he sucked on it greedily, letting it slide
lazily between his lips, establishing the practiced rhythm that would
bring Yuki the most pleasure.
Yuki's hand flexed and relaxed in the long red hair as he moved his
hips in short gentle thrusts into Kyou's trained mouth and throat.
The only noises that broke the still night inside that small room
were those of Yuki's light feminine gasps, and of Kyou's throat as he
gulped and swallowed, taking Yuki's cock all the way.
"Kyou," he sighed trying to imagine the Kyou from three years ago,
before Akito did this to him. He tried to imagine the way he had
always wanted the boy. He pictured burning eyes looking up at him,
hungry and spirited, clutching at him in need, writhing under him...
meeting his thrusts with violent passion. And his voice... his husky
voice groaning Yuki's name, pleading for more.
Yuki's eyes shot open and he pulled Kyou's head away quickly. The
boy looked up, confused, and slowly becoming frightened, thinking he
had done something wrong again. Yuki stared wildly at Kyou, short
of breath, trying to keep control.
"I can't wait, Kyou. I need you now."
Kyou nodded frantically and turned on his hands and knees, laying his
head on his elbows.
"No, on the bed."
Kyou nodded again and scrambled over, laying across the bed, his
knees still on the floor, ass in the air and raising one knee to rest
on the bed. Yuki moved forward quickly, kneeling on the hard floor,
his knees protesting the discomfort but the rest of his body not much
caring. Quickly, he dipped his hand in the bowl of oil beside the
bed and slicked it over his cock carefully; a luxury he doubted Akito
had afforded the redhead.
Positioning his cock, Yuki pushed in quickly, needing to feel the
tight heat of Kyou's body surrounding him. Kyou barely moved a
slight grunt and his hands clenching in the sheets, the only sign
that he felt any discomfort. Yuki stilled and let Kyou adjust,
closing his eyes and enjoying the clenching heat of Kyou's body as it
surrounded him. He rubbed his hands along Kyou's back, undoing his
robe and lifting it so he could pet the soft skin along his spine and
sides, showing the boy what gentleness he could; gentleness Kyou had
never known.
Even scarred and malnourished, Kyou's body was long and beautiful,
nubile and tender.
"You're so beautiful, Kyou," he breathed and drew a hand under to
grasp the boy's cock, working it gently. Kyou's breathing sped up
and Yuki felt some small satisfaction. That was more reaction than
he had gotten before. He leaned over, kissing the Neko's back,
soothing him.
"It's okay. I want you to feel good. This makes me happy," he
assured, emphasizing his strokes on Kyou's hardening flesh. He
could tell already though, that Kyou was getting scared. He was
trained never to come and he was fighting it. Yuki frowned, his own
desire flagging, but that would be even more disastrous so he simply
gave in, closed his eyes and thrust hard into the willing body,
Kyou's voiceless grunts spurring him on, his tight heat clutching
Yuki's cock on each thrust. Yuki knew when he hit Kyou's prostate,
as he changed angles. The boy's hands spasmed open and he buried his
face in the bed, his breath becoming labored and erratic. Yuki
thrust harder then, nothing in his mind, but the desire to find
release.
"Oh, god, Kyou..."
A few more hard thrusts and he rammed his hips in tight, his muscles
shaking as he came hard against the boy, collapsing over his back,
sweaty and spent. Kyou waited quietly underneath him, breathing
hard, trying not to come. He was used to this part, waiting silently
until Akito would hopefully leave him alone.
Yuki quickly caught his breath and pulled out gently, commanding Kyou
to lay down on the bed. He obeyed quickly, but there were tears in
his eyes and his erection was softening as he half expected
punishment, for not doing something right. Yuki moved forward and
kissed him quickly, muffling his panicked breaths and thrust his
tongue in to taste Kyou's mouth thoroughly. His delicate long
fingers danced over Kyou's skin, his chest and thighs before taking
hold of the hot cock and squeezing gently. His other hand buried
itself in the orange hair, massaging, soothing. Kyou eventually
calmed, the rapid rise and fall of his chest slowing.
"It's all right, Kyou..." he whispered in the delicate ear, making the
boy shiver. "I want this. I want you to come for me."
He wasn't sure how much Kyou understood. After Akito's `conditioning, Kyou was completely mute and Yuki wasn't sure if there was permanent damage to his mind. But he continued to soothe the trembling young man with soft words and gentle kisses as he brought Kyou to completion, holding him as he shuddered hard, spilling himself onto Yuki's hand in spurts before collapsing in Yuki's arm. Clutching onto Yuki's shoulders, he looked up at him in silent awe. Yuki moved up into the bed and pulled the boy close.
"It's okay, Kyou. It makes me feel good. You've been very good."
Like an obedient pet.
He idly stroked Kyou's hair as the boy lay there in a daze, lost in
Yuki's tender gaze, before his lids lowered and he fell into a light
sleep. Yuki would spend the night; otherwise Kyou would eventually
feel guilty for doing things he had been trained not to do and try to
punish himself. He was getting better, but the scars Akito left
were too deep and too thorough. Yuki cursed himself for the
thousandth time, for being weak, for leaving, for not knowing what
would happen. If he could, he would stay here in this dank little
one-room cottage-cell with Kyou, but there were still family matters
to attend to, since Akito's death.
`It's lonely being the head of the family, Yuki, but that doesn't
mean that we don't have urges, does it? I knew you fancied it. For a
monster, it's quite pretty, isn't it? So now it's yours; your own
little playtoy. A warm body to fuck, to take out your frustrations.
Even a monster has its uses, doesn't it? It knows its place now... has
no delusions of being worthy of us.'
Yuki closed his eyes too late to stop the tears from coming. He had
so much to do. There were financial affairs to settle for the
funeral. He had to contact the 12shi. Especially he had to find
Hatori, who had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth.
Only he could help fix this. Only he had the power to give Kyou his
memories back.
"I'm sorry, Kyou," he said to the sleeping figure, caressing his
cheek softly. "I promise I'll fix this. Somehow I'll fix it."

The trained mouth on his soft cock was not doing him much good. He
brought up images of Yuki, his gray haired beauty... on top of him,
riding him, kneeling and sucking him off, his lovely mouth enveloping
his cock like the petals of a rose, or fine wet silk, or maybe
underneath him, bucking out of control, calling his name. But it
wasn't enough. He was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed,
head turned to the side, hands holding a handful of the long red hair
painfully. Stupid beast. Even after three years, he was so
pathetic, so worthless.
This was how it was lately though. Anymore, he was too tired. He
hadn't been down to the cage for weeks and even when he felt well
enough today, he had been forced to have his manservant, Zakuro wheel
him down here in a chair. The man stood silently outside, waiting
for him to finish.
He stared down numbly as Kyou sucked and swallowed, working his mouth
nimbly, frantically, but getting no response.
"You're worthless." Akito said dully, feeling his legs go out from
under him. He couldn't feel them anymore and was too weak to even
brace himself for the impact of hitting the floor. His bones were so
fragile now, he would probably break a shoulder or hip, but he didn't
care.
But the impact never came.
He opened his eyes, to find himself caught in the thin arms of his
pitiful monster, eyes looking down at him with concern. Concern...
for the only thing he knew, no matter how cruel. How could he... how...
after all this time?
"Don't look at me like that." his voice was so quiet in his own
ears. "DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!" he screamed. "Monster! Freak!"
But he was too weak to raise a hand and strike the boy.
Kyou's eyes widened until his irises were two pinpoints of fear. He
was shaking terribly, but instead of dropping him and backing into a
corner as Akito had expected, Kyou refused to let him fall, that
worry still in the red eyes.
"Don't look at me like that... you have no right. You're nothing."
His voice was hoarse and dying, barely able to take in the air to
force the words from his tired lungs.
Weakly, he called to his servant. "Zakuro..." His loyal servant of
many years opened the door and strode in, a tall man, slender,
rugged, with an angular face and long black hair, a scar across one
of the icy blue eyes. Akito reached up. "I'm too weak today. Take
me to my chair."
The man bent and plucked the limp, wasting form from Kyou's arms and
lifted him, carrying him outside to the wheelchair there and setting
him down gently, retying his robe. Akito sighed, trying to ignore
the pain that burned all over his body, the parts that weren't numb.
He nodded weakly, sighing.
"Thank you, Zakuro." He looked back at Kyou, who still stared at
him... that damnable look of worry still in the frightened eyes. That
look angered him so. He looked up at his servant weakly gesturing at
the confused thing, still on his knees in the shadows of his cage.
"Take care of this."
A gleeful light flashed in the man's eyes. "Yes." He turned,
already undoing his belt, pulling it off as he advanced on the small
figure in the room.
Akito closed his eyes. The scuffles and thump of the cat being
thrown against the wall seemed like a far away dream. He opened his
eyes and looked on tiredly as the man belted the thin wrists to the
bars of the window, lifting the slender body uncomfortably onto its
toes till he was practically hanging, before undoing his own pants
and fucking the boy dry, ramming him against the wall violently, his
own grunts of satisfaction filling the silent night. Trapped hands
clutched at the bars and the monster whimpered, only serving to drive
the man harder.
"That's it... scream for me bitch."
For a brief moment, the still young Sohma god thought he saw
differently. Him, it was him against the wall, Zakuro, his father
instead. Hips bruised, arms pulled and immense pain and punishment.
Akito blinked and the image seemed to go away, having never been
there. A stolen memory perhaps? So familiar...
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The muffled sound of a body hitting the wall grew faster, even as
Akito could hear the beat of his own heart slowing, the matched
rhythms slowly parting each other. Edges were dark in his vision as
he sank down in his chair. His breathing was a slow roaring in his
ears. The only thing left in his sights was the belt being undone
and a rough hand in red hair throwing the figure to the floor.
Crimson stained the pale legs beneath the short robe, as well as his
wrist where the beads had pinched his pale skin and Akito stared at
it, the crimson becoming eyes, deep ruby eyes, ugly with worry that
should have been beaten away long ago. Akito looked slowly at his
own hands... himself. Punished for being born...
Monster. Freak.
Those hands went limp; sliding to his sides as the body fell sideways
in the chair. His final breath...
"Kyou..."

Hatori smoothed a hand over the boy's smooth, relaxed forehead,
running his fingers through the damp hair. He had exhausted them
both, working for over four hours to fulfil Akito's latest decision.
Kyou was too spent now to even dream, but there would be nightmares
to come. For his part, Hatori didn't even have the energy to curse
his own pathetic weakness. He just wanted to go home and lose
himself in a drink and about three days of sleep.
Silently, he trudged up the path to the main house, entering and
wearily removing his shoes, kneeling, almost falling to the floor.
Akito was standing just outside the door, looking into the gardens,
playing with a bird that hopped along the deck rail. He did not turn
to look. Zaruto, who was standing in the corner, in the shadows, was
the only one to acknowledge his presence, with a glare.
"Is it done?" Akito asked gently, his voice so soft... almost seeming
concerned, though Hatori knew that was not the case.
He just wanted to go home.
"I did what you asked, Akito."
"Excellent. You may go."
Hatori dredged up the energy to stand again, but he paused.
"Akito..."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Akito turned, clicking his tongue and walking inside, leaning down to
run his fingers through the man's limp hair.
"Nothing to concern yourself with, my beautiful Dragon. After all,
it's just the cat." He kissed Hatori on the forehead as if he were a
confused child.
"I am not unkind, Hatori. I don't want it to suffer. I just want it
to know its place. It's so much simpler this way."
Hatori bowed his head. "I see."
Akito helped him to rise, by placing a delicate hand on his chin and
lifting gently. "Don't let it worry you, Hatori. You're tired. Go
home and get some rest. You can take the rest of the week off."
He guided Hatori to his shoes. "If you need anything, please don't
hesitate to come to me." Hatori looked at him, the eyes that were
unreadable. He cared, but he was cruel. He did everything for a
reason, but usually not the right one. But he was god... not to be
questioned. He leaned up and kissed Hatori gently.
"Don't worry about Kyou. I will take good care of him, Hatori. I
love him, just like I love you all. You know that."
Hatori nodded mutely and left. As soon as he was out of site, Akito
nodded to Zaruto and they headed down the path to see for themselves
Hatori's excellent work. Akito unlocked the door and opened it, to
find the redhead, sitting in the corner of the bed, shivering. Tears
trailed down his cheeks as he stared up at Akito mutely.
"Are you sad, my kitten? You killed mommy, didn't you? It's okay,"
he said soothingly. "I'll make sure you pay." He brought the switch
from behind his back. "You're only good for one thing, my little
monster. I'll teach you what you need to know to pay for your
crimes."
Zaruto grabbed a hold of the boy and threw him to the floor, ripping
his sweatshirt off roughly. Akito advanced, eyeing the smooth white
flesh greedily.
"I'll give Yuki a gift he will never forget."

The car pulled up, black and sleek, like darkness, dark and draining
and bleak... like Akito himself. The thin boy got out, smiling
satisfied as he saw his prisoner to be, waiting like a good kitty on
the front steps... bag in hand. The others, Shigure and Hatori were in
the house. Kyou couldn't blame them. What were they supposed to
do? Wish him a fond farewell? He could feel their eyes on him;
however, as he rose to meet the clan head, who glided toward him, a
look of disgust already sliding over his features as he came.
"I'm surprised you're still here. It would be like you to run away."
"I keep my word. You would have found me anyway... like Rin." Kyou
responded bleakly, his mind still trying to wrap around the fact that
his life was ending. "Can we just go?"
Akito looked up at the window, not missing the two figures hiding in
the shadows of the upstairs bedroom. He smiled and turned back to
the car. "Whatever you say. I hope you won't try to run for it when
we get there. Zakuro's in the car and he could cut you in two like
that." He drew his finger across his throat. Kyou didn't bat an
eye. He was tired of Akito's little games. He had a feeling it was
his creepy personal attendant who had driven.
"Whatever." He moved to get in the car.
"Kyou!"
He turned, startled. Could that be...
"Yuki?"
The boy was running toward him, as fast as he could. He must have
run all the way from the main road. A small white piece of paper was
clutched in his right hand and Kyou paled as he recognized the
picture on the back. Yuki came up, panting, clutching his chest
painfully. Kyou caught him as he got near.
"You idiot!" he yelled. "You'll kill yourself doing that."
Yuki only rolled his eyes and ignored him, trying to catch his
breath. He turned to Akito, his eyes pleading. "Akito... please let
me talk with Kyou for a moment," he panted.
Akito walked hurriedly to his gray haired prince, Kyou automatically
letting the boy go and stepping aside. "Yuki!" He took the boy by
the chin. "You should be on the train by now for college! You'll
catch your death running like that." He stroked one soft ivory
cheek.
"Akito," he pleaded, "please let me talk to K... the cat for a minute."
Akito looked at him suspiciously.
"It's too late to change anything, my dear Yuki. You shouldn't waste
your time and your precious breath on something so foul. Yuki
trembled, but shook his head. "Nevertheless, I would like to speak
to it."
Akito frowned... then he laughed. "It's all right then. I don't see
how it could hurt now." With that, the older boy walked languidly
into the house to talk with his two little shadows.
Yuki turned to Kyou, noting his pale face and sleepless eyes. The
blushing redhead stared at the note clutched in his hand. A note
written on the bottom of one of Yuki's many sketches of him.
"You weren't supposed to find it yet," Kyou said sullenly.
"I'm glad I did." He grabbed the boy by the arms, looking into his
eyes earnestly, while still trying to catch his breath. "You listen
to me, you stupid cat."
Kyou's eyes widened, flashing with anger, but Yuki shook him to keep
him quiet. "You listen! Don't you dare do anything stupid, do you
understand?"
Kyou stared at him. "What are you talking about, Yuki?" he said, his
voice tired and resigned. He didn't have the energy for this. Why
did he have to find that note so soon?
"Just promise me that you'll wait... that you won't give up."
"Give up? Give up what?" He edged. He knew what Yuki was saying,
but he didn't want to face that right now. That was for later, when
he was alone in his cell... where no one would know.
"I promise I'll get you out of there."
Kyou's backed up a step and he stared at the boy. "What?"
Yuki's eyes held a determination that Kyou had rarely witnessed. "I
won't let you rot in there. I'll figure something out. I know I
can!"
Kyou snorted. "Weren't you the one who said it's just the way we're
made?" He accused. "The other cats were never released. What makes
you think you can change things? Once I'm safely behind bars where
everyone can forget, they won't think of it anymore. It's easier to
forget." He paused. "It's what they do," he said resignedly.
Yuki shook his head. "You know I can't forget, Kyou." He held up
the note. "You were right about what you said."
Kyou stared in shock at the mouse, disbelieving. Then he smiled
faintly, sadly.
"I appreciate it, Yuki. I do." He looked away, staring off into the
distance as if he could glean an answer to life from the horizon. "I
only wish... well, maybe... if I had just accepted it, or tried not to be
so... angry; maybe we could have been friends for a while." But he
shook his head. "It's just the way I'm made though. You were
right. I couldn't beat you, even when you stopped fighting." He
stuck his hands in his pockets and turned back to Yuki. "I'm tired
of fighting it."
Yuki grabbed his collar and shoved him up against the car roughly.
He narrowed his eyes, glaring. He was a breath away from Kyou, in
his face. He hissed a low and warning tone.
"You stupid cat!" He shook Kyou violently. "If you just give up,
without giving me a chance, I'll never forgive you!"
Kyou couldn't speak. Yuki was so close, so intense. They had been
in this position a million times in the past, fighting, but the red
haired cat had not then known what he now knew about the gray haired
mouse. They were so close. One movement and they could touch. If
either of them gave an inch... If Akito hadn't been so close by. He
knew Yuki felt it too, but the way he paused, simply breathing,
taking in their closeness for a brief moment. Kyou had never
experienced something so intimate in his life. Yuki...
"I will find a way," Yuki growled. "If anyone can, it's me. It's
the way `I'm' made. Please give me a chance, Kyou."
Kyou searched Yuki's eyes, looking for something. Whatever it was,
he found it because he calmly brought his hands up and pushed Yuki
slowly away. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a small object
and placed it in Yuki's hand, within the letter that he held. He
wrapped the paper around it, keeping Yuki's gaze the whole time.
Grabbing the thin fingers, he pressed them around the cold metal
surface, holding Yuki's wrist with one hand and his closed fist with
the other. He stared at Yuki, trying to remember his face... his
beautiful high cheekbones, and thin nose. His hair was so fine, it
really could be the downy fur of a mouse, and with faint lines of
black that accentuated it. His eyes were the hue of the dark skin of
an eggplant, deep, deep shiny purple with lighter violet in the lines
of the iris.
Was it because of how he was made?
That he hadn't noticed this before?
Behind a darkened window, black eyes narrowed in anger.
Kyou stared at Yuki's hand. "It's not that I think you'll succeed,"
he said, "but none of the other cats did it, so I'm bound to fail."
He looked up then. "But maybe you can do it, Yuki. Maybe... for you,
I can hope for a little while."
"Yuki!"
Both boys backed away from each other, their hands parting, as Akito
walked toward Yuki, reaching a hand out to stroke his cheek. Though
he loathed this weakness, Yuki couldn't help but tremble, painful
memories accompanying the Sohma head's presence... the beatings, the
verbal abuse, and the physical.
"That's enough, Yuki!" he said, harshly. "I'd like you to stay away
from that, you'll get your beautiful hands dirty."
"Leave him alone, Akito!" Kyou yelled, moving forward.
At that, the car door opened and Kyou's personal attendant stepped
out, moving toward the cat. Kyou stopped one eye on Yuki and one eye
on the black-haired man who advanced on him, towering over him and
backing him toward the car. His ice blue eyes, cold and intimidating.
Yuki looked over worriedly. Akito had `acquired' him about the same
time Shigure had taken Yuki from the main house. The abuse had been
getting worse. Akito had been `touching' him more and more,
commanding the flowering boy to touch back, then beating him when he
was too scared to come. When the inevitable rape happened, Hatori
had begged Shigure to do something. Yuki moved residences
and "Zakuro" had appeared. Akito was rarely seen without him. He
was tall and slender with long black hair and striking blue eyes,
almost white. A relatively striking, but terrifying man. There was
no doubt in Yuki's mind that Akito bedded this man. A compensation
of sorts. Rumor was he looked like Akito's father.
"Zakuro... put him in the car." Akito said and the man moved toward
Kyou, staring him down until Kyou sat in the car obediently, a touch
of fear in the indignant teenager's eyes. When the door slammed,
Akito turned back to Yuki and smiled, straightening the boy's tie and
collar, ignoring his trembling.
"There, all better," he said soothingly. "I should have locked him
up sooner I think." He grabbed Yuki by the nape of his neck, pulling
him in and kissing him softly, moaning and exploring the terrified
boy's slack mouth with his tongue before pulling back, open mouth wet
with saliva that dripped onto Yuki's chin. Lovingly, Akito dabbed it
off with the sleeve of his sweater and smiled.
"Now be a good little mouse and get to school, Yuki," he
whispered. "Forget about the worthless cat. He's always been
jealous of you. It's best to just forget."
Yuki backed up a step and Akito's eyes came to rest on the crumpled
note in his hand. He reached down to take it when Yuki seemed to
wake up and snatched it away. It didn't keep Akito seeing the flash
of color, deep orange, and the swelling lines of a nude figure. His
eyes flashed with fury.
"Go now, Yuki, before I get angry with you."
Yuki backed away, still clutching the note in a death grip in his
sweaty hand.
"I won't forget, Akito." He turned and walked away quickly, squaring
his shoulders and trying to keep his dignity at least until he was
out of site. Inside, all he wanted to do was curl up and die. He
could feel the weight of the object held in his hand, within the
note. A razor... for shaving, old fashioned, probably Shigure's. Kyou
had been planning to slit his throat probably. It was the fastest
way with this particular tool. Somehow, Yuki would find a way to get
him out. Somehow.

Dear Yuki,
I found this about two months ago, when I was in your room looking
for a pencil. When I opened the desk drawer, I saw this stack of
pictures. There were so many pictures of me. I was so angry. You
probably remember it. I was just about to mangle your garden and you
beat the hell out of me.
I only took this picture. At first I was using it as a focus for my
anger. How dare you defile me like that, but after a while, I
realized that you couldn't have done it out of malice or hate or to
make fun of me because it was so, pretty. Do I really look like
that? Is that what you see?
I've been so blind all my life, with anger toward you. My mother
always told me that it was your fault. It was like the only way she
could justify my curse was to tell me how nasty the mouse was. Even
when she killed herself, she told me that it wasn't my fault... that it
was yours. It took me so long to realize that you weren't to
blame. If Tohru hadn't come, I probably would have fought you to the
bitter end.
So that's why I haven't challenged you. I know that it's useless
anyway, after you stopped fighting back. It's just the way I'm
made.
It took me a month to write this, so I hope I don't seem stupid
because I never say the right thing and I want this to make sense.
I don't hate you. I don't know how you could like me after the way
I've treated you. After all, it's not like your life was easy
either. But I could never really see past my own pain... until Tohru
came along.
I won't be around long now and I realize I don't want it to end like
this. I don't want my life to end without making my peace with
everyone. I've really enjoyed these last couple of years, being
included and seeing the beauty of life. I don't want to be like
Akito, hating everything to the bitter end.
So, I'm not mad about the picture anymore. Actually, it made me see
you in a whole new light. I hope you remember `that' me, and not the
pissy, angry me who had nothing but contempt for you. I don't know.
Thank you for seeing me that way. You're a very beautiful person
inside, even if you act so cold. I wish I could have seen it sooner.
Goodbye Yuki.
I'm sorry.
Kyou
- 1
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The Power of Memory