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liquorisce · 3 years

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(i’m so) heavy in your arms - pt 1

pairing: kyoru, kyo x tohru

fandom: fruits basket

rating: T (for now)

Summary: kyo is condemned to a cursed fate. and sometimes his heart is too heavy for tohru to carry on her own.

// “... I said I loved you, Kyo kun, don't disrespect me by assuming my words mean so little.” //

read on Ao3

A/N: i really wanted to write this for @kyoruweekofficial in October (prompt: hands) but I moved to a different country and I'm not very good at multi tasking, so yea, this is my nanowrimo project and now it has suddenly grown into multiple chapters. chap 1 will be an emotional (and somewhat different) rewrite of a familiar scene so please bear with me. <3

...

I was a heavy heart to carry, My beloved was weighed down. ... My arms around his neck, My fingers laced to crown. I was a heavy heart to carry... My feet dragged across the ground. And he took me to the river, Where he slowly let me drown. - Florence + The Machine, Heavy in your Arms

“... forgive or don’t forgive; are those my only two options?”

Kyo blinks, tears threatening to escape the corners of his eyes. His memories recount a harsh picture in his mind - a broken body lying on the street in a pool of blood. He could call her delusional all he wants, but it’s largely directed at himself, the memory of his weakness mercilessly reminding him that he was always headed for this moment.

... A simple sentence - a condemnation - that never really stopped playing in his head.

I won’t forgive you.

“... My mother would have never said that.”

Her voice jars him out of the familiar cloud of despondency that had begun to creep up on him.

“Did you think just because you brought up my mother, my feelings would change?” Her voice is shaky, tears and anger and emotion… and the incomparable feeling of opening a tightly shut lid. “Don’t you dare compare this with my love for my mother. I will always have a special place for my mother in my heart… but I can disagree with her if I need to.”

She looks at him fiercely, hair wet and sticking to her face along the tear tracks that are slowly drying. “... I said I loved you, Kyo kun, don't disrespect me by assuming my words mean so little.”

...

“Ï don’t understand,” he starts, watching her disappear down the stairs - he briefly wonders why he doesn’t run after her, he should - and then turning to look at the orange-haired boy whose regret-filled eyes haven’t lifted from the ground. “Every single day I watch you make eyes at her like she’s the only thing that matters to you, and today, when miraculously she tells you she feels the same way, your approach is to call her delusional?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“... This isn’t about you, you stupid rat. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

“... Isn’t about me, huh?”

“Then maybe, I can just find Honda-san and offer my shoulder for her to cry on.” Yuki’s eyes narrow, searching Kyo’s hunched form for a reaction. “... Help her find the comfort she’s looking for in my arms.”

He sees the twitch in Kyo’s arms, his hands involuntarily balling up into fists.

“Or better yet,” he flings, knowing fully well that he’s playing dirty at this point, “maybe I can call Momiji over. He’ll be happy to cheer her up and take advantage of your… disinterest.”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Kyo growls, eyes flashing. He doesn’t need Yuki to taunt him with the prospect of someone else taking their place by her side, it’s a cruel pastime of his own mind. Someone better. “... It doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s better off that way after all,” -

“This is what I’m talking about,” he gestures referring to Kyo’s agitated state, fists balled and aggressive, teeth bared, “you can’t stand the thought of her with someone else, and yet you pretend like you’re some saint ready to give up everything. For what?!”

“Do you think torturing yourself to be devoid of her will magically break this curse?”

Kyo is silent, his expression unreadable and it only irritates Yuki even further.

When it dawns on him, Yuki does little to hide his disgust. “Oh? You’ve given up?”

“... I don’t care how you choose to satisfy your own masochism,” he snarls, “but how dare you entangle Honda-san into your own convoluted web of deceit? As expected of the cat” -

“Exactly!” Kyo cries, hands in his hair, eyes desperate, “... how can I expect her to be with me when this body, this curse, is my reality? Surely you agree she deserves better,” -

“That... is for her to decide,” he says softly, “You have no right to tell her whom she can or cannot love.”

…

Her legs carry her across familiar paths, stairs, street crossing and bridges across streams. Her brain, in the meantime, does its best to catch up with the thunderous beating of her heart. It’s when she reaches a busy crossing that her body gives, heavy sobs racking her tiny frame, hunched over a railing, heaving for breath.

The strength with which she’d faced Kyo just a few moments ago seemed like a distant stranger. She’d known the anxiety her decision to confess had brought her, but she’d never realized that her simple words could weigh so heavily on her heart, crushing her slowly, painstakingly over all these months of silent feeling. And now that those words have left her, she is bereft, weightless… empty.

Tohru had worked hard to ration her hope, trimming her daydreams into affordable snippets of a possible future; her and Kyo engaging in mundane house activities together, doing well to gloss over the bits where her mind tried to be more vivid - the insouciant touches of his hand while they cooked in the kitchen, the casual way he held it when they’d walk home from the store.

But they were dreams, and however miserly they were, they still stung.

Because she’d left the house and ran, unable to stay rooted in that spot, in front of the man whom she’d bared her heart to and been told she was but a fool.

She chastizes herself for not sparing a thought for Shigure who’d taken her in, or Yuki whose kindness she takes for granted... for leaving without a word. What about lunch? What about the house chores?

How would she explain herself? And most of all, what would she say to -

“... Tohru,” a voice interrupts her frantic thoughts as she teeters on the edge of a panic attack. “Here, I brought you some water.”

She accepts the bottle gratefully from her dark-haired friend. “Hana-chan,” she breathes, ‘how did you know I was here?’ she wants to ask, but the words don’t come out, they stay lodged within her throat along with the painful lump that has only been growing ever since she saw the look of disgust form on Kyo’s face.

I’ve been so selfish.

“Hana-chan,” she starts again, only this time it’s a panicked half-whisper, desperation seeping through her lips as she clutches onto her friend’s sleeve. She wants to tell her but these feelings choke on the unfiltered tears that stream across her cheeks, and into her lips, messy and wet, creating splotches on her clothes until Hanajima attempts to dab at them, murmuring, “... Deep breaths, Tohru-kun.”

She clutches Hanajima’s proffered hands, obediently breathing in and out, until the third one brings her a momentary clarity and a splitting ache in her head that mirrors a deeper one in her chest. “I’m alright, Hana-chan,” she says, taking in her friend’s creased brows, her quiet concern doing its best to give Tohru her space.

It’s always been like this, she thinks, a nostalgic bitterness creeping into her, of memories of a younger Tohru grasping at straws to keep the attention of her mother. Burdening… Always burdening.

Selfishly thrusting these greedy feelings onto people and calling it love.

“S-sorry,” she whispers, wiping away at her bleary eyes, a weak smile lifting the corners of her lips, “I’ve been rejected… that’s all.”

~tbc~

#kyoru #kyo sohma #tohru honda #fruits basket #liquorisce fanfiction

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