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My, My, Imai! Redux (2019)	By : VanillaToast Category: Fruits Basket > Het - Male/Female Views: 747 -:- 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 or any brands/names herein. The only character of my own making is Imai.

Chapter List
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Abuse, AFFO, Angst, MF/Het, OC, Romance heavy, Violence, WAFF, WIP
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 or any brands/names herein. The only character of my own making is Imai.
Author’s Note: This was originally written back in 2006, so keep in mind that at that time I had very limited knowledge of Fruits Basket. I had only seen the anime—I had no idea that Akito was female, didn’t know any backstory on her family, and Kureno wasn’t even remotely introduced. While I am 100% aware now that NONE of this story fits into the canon of Fruits Basket, I really enjoyed re-reading it and thought that myself and my role-play partner had done well. I really am going to work on trying to get this to make sense within the story of Fruits Basket while not disrupting the entire universe of it.
In that respect, I will be rewriting the My, My, Imai! story as it was meant to be told. Some scenes will be cut, others switched, and even a few added for clarity and flow. I figured with the new Fruits Basket reboot rolling out, maybe it was time to dust off these old fingers of mine as this was one of my more popular stories and one of my favorite anime.
SUPER EXTRA SPECIAL NOTE: This is not PwP. Any chapters with sexual content will be noted in their chapter titles, so please don't rush it. I kinda want a decent, coherent story without pushing sex immediately into it, so please refrain from asking. It will happen, just not immediately.
I hope you enjoy! Stay Toasty!
MARCH
It was nearing time for Imai’s monthly checkup with the family doctor, Hatori. She had never contracted any major illnesses of any sort, aside from a few bouts of the Flu now and again, which only fueled the rumors around the Sohma compound that Akito’s constant illnesses were due to his status in the family. It was a farfetched rumor, to be sure, but then again… Thirteen of the family turned into animals.
Imai was one of the thirteen; cursed with the spirit of the rooster, she was supposed to be courageous, talented, and selfish. Her imprisonment by her elder brother, however, curtailed many of her innate talents and courage—she didn’t even have room to be selfish.
Imai had all the traits of a Sohma, including their legendary good looks. Years of Akito’s abuse and imprisonment, however, dampened them. Her hair was long and a vibrant rooster red, a dead give away for her spirit animal, and her eyes were a yellow gold in hue. Her coloring would have been stunning, were it not for the fact that she was underweight, frail, and had a dead, disinterested look in her eyes from sunup to sundown. Her loveliness had been drowned by the years spend under Akito’s rule and it showed.
Imai felt comfortable at the estate, though mostly with just the maids. She felt comfortable with Hatori, the family doctor, but she did not know him well. Imai often tried to skip her appointments, rarely coming to her checkups without some sort of prompting. As she sat on a small bench overlooking a koi pond in one of the many gardens, Imai wondered how long she could put off having to see Hatori. Mostly, she was simply uncomfortable with being touched, especially by cold instruments.
Meanwhile, Hatori sat in his office leafing through a book that had been sitting on his desk. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The Quartz clock that sat on the far corner of his desk ticked away the minutes as Imai’s appointment time began to pass. First, it had only been ten after the hour, but now it drew closer to half of one. She was late, but Hatori wasn’t exactly too worried. Imai could be nowhere except around the main compound.
Finally, at thirty-five after, Hatori gently closed the book he had been leafing through and stood from the leather chair that had complimented his modern furniture set. Hatori saw all the Sohma family in this room: it was his place of both relaxation and work, and he only made exceptions when it came to Akito, whom he carried his instruments to.
Hatori sent maids on the lookout for the rooster, though he had searched a bit himself through the long stretches of walkways that connected the various homes of the estate. He didn’t call out for her, fearing that if Akito heard, the poor girl would get in trouble. It was only a few minutes later that a maid appeared, reported that she had spotted the girl near the back recesses of a garden just a few yards from the koi pond. Hatori thanked her and made his way to the garden.
Hatori said nothing as he approached Imai, his dress shoes being the only think that made sound as they crunched on the gravel walkway. He remained quiet as he came to stop just feet away from her and kept his stone gaze steadily on Imai. Hatori wasn’t exactly a mean man, but he always seemed so expressionless that it came off as cold. Hatori was sure that his presence alone would remind Imai of what, exactly, she was late for.
Imai looked up at Hatori with an equally stony, indifferent expression. She knew what she was late for, and she was only sorry that she couldn’t have had ten more minutes to procrastinate on it. When she had heard Hatori’s shoes crunching on the gravel of the walkway, she had only uttered a soft sigh of defeat.
Imai stood in silence, pulling her too large kimono tighter around her thin frame. She knew that she could no sooner run from her dreaded appointment than she could from her family. It never failed that Hatori had to search for Imai when it came time for appointments. Imai was much healthier than her brother, Akito, but if he had ever found out about her tardiness, he would have no issue showing her how much stronger he was.
As long as Imai showed up eventually, Hatori had no problem with searching the grounds for her. It wasn’t in his nature to say anything about the small signs of rebellion that the girl showed, because they really weren’t much trouble for him. However, if Imai had not shown up for her appointment at all and Hatori was asked about it by Akito, he would have no other choice than to tell. He was not looking forward to that day, and so he would continue to search her out for her own good.
Hatori followed her, silent as ever even when they went back inside and reached his study. It was bright, the windows thrown open to welcome in the golden warmth of the sun. The cherry trees were in bloom with the pleasant weather outside and even little sparrows hobbled around on the windowsills, chirping a song of spring. Hatori’s study had the best view on nice afternoons in the dryer season, and so it was no wonder that he spent most of his time there.
His appointments were like a routine, and Hatori was already pulling out a chair for Imai to sit in. It was only after that did he finally speak. His voice was deep, but gentle as he lifted his bag of tools on his desk and began to rummage carefully through it.
“Anything I should know about?”, Hatori asked as he drew out seemingly random instruments.
Imai’s footsteps were light and delicate on the flooring of Hatori’s office and moving like a shadow on the sea she drifted into the offered chair as he spoke. Imai eyed Hatori instead of enjoying the view his office gave, paying the birds and breeze no mind and she watched him rummage through his bag of dreadful instruments. She cared as much for those cold metal tools as she did for the smell of his office; it always seemed to reek of medicine and cigarettes, and she didn’t care much for the mix. At least he had the common courtesy not to smoke when he was seeing his patients.
Eventually, Imai’s tired eyes lifted from Hatori’s bag of torture to find his face and respond.
“My throat has been sore and my sinuses are draining. My neck is also stiff and I still have a bruise on my leg.” Imai said in a small, but listless tone. She spoke as if he had asked her what color the sky was and it was all she said.
After Imai had finished speaking, Hatori plugged the earpieces of his stethoscope into his ears. He was even polite enough to touch it to the palm of his hand to warm it before parting the neckline of Imai’s kimono and pressing it to her chest. Imai twitched when she felt the instrument touch her flesh, but she breathed slowly and steadily for him as he listened.
The sniffles and sore through weren’t much of a concern; it was finally starting to warm up after colder weather and it wasn’t uncommon for people to come down with cold-like symptoms. It was the confession of the stiff neck that made him glance up to her briefly, though he didn’t have to ask how she’d gotten it or her bruises; Hatori could see fading bruises around the girl’s neck, and they were in the shape of hands. He knew well that Akito had taken his wrath out on the girl many times.
“I can give you some pain killers to take if it’s too uncomfortable.” Hatori said as he pulled the stethoscope from his ears and began to touch the glands on her throat to check for swelling.
“Have you tried drinking hot tea for your sore throat?”, he asked.
Hatori was always gentle in the way he handled her, but he never warned her when moving in to conduct a part of the exam the girl might deem a violation. Thus, a hand came down from her neck after her glands had been examined and pulled the hem of her kimono up so that Hatori could look at the aforementioned bruise there. Hatori was a physician and the human body was nothing but a complex machine for him to work on, despite Imai’s uncomfortable squirm as he lifted her kimono.
“No, I haven’t,” Imai mumbled her response as she relaxed. She told herself that there was nothing to feel uncomfortable about when Hatori checked her body over on her countless checkups and last-minute bone-settings he gave.
The bruise on her leg, which had flowered a number of days ago, was still a mixture of purples, blues, and yellows. Thankfully, the size of the bruise hadn’t spread to anything much larger than a fist, though it was still painful to the touch. Imai’s neck had been stiff for the same amount of time, but that was what was causing her to lose more sleep than usual. It was difficult to get comfortable.
Hatori, satisfied for the most part with his checkup, pulled the soft fabric of her clothes back over her as he stood and moved to a cabinet beside his desk. Inside were all sorts of bottles; some filled with pills, others were a myriad of colored liquids, and even a few powders in what appeared to be teabags. It was Hatori’s own private collection that he kept stocked up with his connections from hospitals and drug stores, and it allowed him to keep a supply of anything the Sohma family might need.
A few moments of searching when by before Hatori came back to Imai with two small boxes with blue writing across the front.
“These are lozenges and pills. They’ll help with your sore throat and sinuses, though I still recommend drinking tea as often as possible along with them.” Hatori said, handing Imai the box first. Imai read the words on the box, flipping it over to read ingredients out of curiosity. She did this every time she was given medicine and Hatori did not seem to mind the action.
“Take one of those at first for the pain in your neck, but if it’s not enough, then you may take two. If nothing gets better, come back to see me.” Hatori explained as Imai continued to read the boxes.
Hatori lifted his brows and looked completely serious when he closed the examination with a question entirely out of the blue.
“Would you like a lollipop?” Hatori asked as if it would make up for all the trouble Imai had to go through with all her visits. Hatori’s dry sense of humor was not lost on Imai and when she lifted her golden eyes to meet his cold violet hues, she furrowed her brows and cracked a small, rare smile.
Was he feeling alright? Rarely did Hatori offer anything other than stern, cold words and expressions when it came to their less-than-lively meetings.
“I didn’t know you had suckers…” Imai responded.
Imai didn’t know Hatori had a sense of humor, either. Hatori did not smile back, but there was something definitely softer in his features before he turned and made his way back to his desk. His lanky frame sat down in the leather chair there almost carelessly before he pulled open a bottom drawer. From it, Hatori took out a small plastic box of various flavors of suckers.
“Momiji-kun likes them best,” Hatori said, leaning back in his chair before propping his feet up on the desk’s top, turned to the side to face the girl.
His work was done and he was more than welcome to lounge in his own study and put whatever he wished on furniture he had personally bought. He got a lot of shit from Shigure about it, but Hatori didn’t really care. Hatori wasn’t looking at Imai anymore, his attention going elsewhere as he patted the tailored vest he wore until he dug into an inside pocket, withdrawing a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out but didn’t light it right away—he couldn’t find his matches and he was still being polite to the patient that was will occupying his office.
Imai wasn’t entirely surprised to find Hatori lounging so comfortably while she was still there. She found that he often did this when his work was finished, and he never did rush her out of his office. With her precious medicine still in hand, Imai pattered over to Hatori’s desk. Her movements were cautious, perhaps tentative, but once she reached the desk she looked like a young child as she peered into the container of suckers. Imai did have a bit of a sweet tooth and she rarely got any form of candy unless it was a gift from Shigure.
Imai plucked a red-wrapped sucker from the bin before she looked up at Hatori and spoke.
“… By your foot,” Imai said, offering the location of his missing matches before she reached for them.
When the whereabouts of his matches had been revealed, Hatori began to sit up although Imai had seemingly beaten him to it. He simply watched the girl as she came closer and offered them to him on her own. He had no particular expression on his face through the exchange, but his eyes kept steady on her as he finally reached out to take them. Long fingers curled around the end of the matchbook and Hatori was careful not let skin touch skin as he took them from her.
“Thank you.” Hatori responded after he tucked the cigarette between his lips. He still didn’t seem to want the light it right away, even with the matches in hand, and allowed it to bob between his lips as he spoke.
Imai watched Hatori as though she expected him to jump out and bite her, as foolish as the thought was. She had never felt braver in her life; Imai and Hatori would conversing, as well as two aloof individuals like themselves could, for once and she was not running out of his office like a scared kitten.
“Did you say ‘Thank you’…?”
A cold voice, wintery and spiteful, rang from the door of Hatori’s office. In the doorway stood Akito. He had appeared as silently as a wolf stalking his prey. Imai’s heart began to race so hard that she feared her brother might hear it. She had hoped to escape him, at least for today, but her prayers had gone unanswered. Meekly, she turned to Hatori and bowed low.
“Thank you, Hatori-san.” Imai said before backing away and out of Hatori’s office. All signs of positive energy that might have surfaced with the small talk and lollipop were immediately snuffed out. By the time Imai’s tiny frame disappeared from his office, Hatori desperately needed the toxic fumes of his cigarette. A flash of light followed by the sudden and pungent smell of sulfur filled the room as the used match head was tossed into an ashtray kept on Hatori’s desk. With a sound inhale of breath, the grey smoke swirled up and filtered through the room, trailing up from the ashy end like a lazy snake as it hung thick in the air.
“Good afternoon, Akito-san. Your appointment isn’t until tomorrow.” Hatori said, as he dropped his gaze from the head of the family.
His arms draped over the sides of his office chair as he made no move to discontinue his lounging. Akito was always sudden with his random visits, though he was never unwelcomed at any time. Anyone who lived or spent any length of time at the Sohma House knew this. If they didn’t… Well, then they were taught the hard way.
Hatori didn’t offer Akito a seat, as he was unsure of how long he was going to choose to stay. Hatori was confident that Akito would help himself to anything in his study that he wished anyway. Luckily, Akito didn’t remain for any longer than it took for Hatori to light his cigarette.
“Good afternoon, Hatori. I’ve merely come to get my dear sister; she and I are to have lunch together. She was running late.” Akito stated as a mad, ruthless smile crossed his features.
Akito did not offer Hatori to join them. The less friendly contact Imai had with others, the better. Akito wasn’t going to allow her to have any emotional ties with anyone. He had been unable to keep Imai from getting closer to Shigure, but he was not about to let it happen again with somebody that she could feasibly visit every day if she wished. The further he kept her from the rest of the world, the more miserable she would be. To Akito, Imai deserved it, and worse, for having killed their mother like she had. It was the accident of her birth that had killed their mother, and he had been there to see it. If Akito could get away with killing Imai, he would have done it without a second thought.
Akito offered a sneer to Hatori before he disappeared from his office entirely to follow his sister.
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My, My, Imai! Redux (2019)