In Shades of Blue (Fruits Basket, Yuki/Kyo, #15)
Title: In Shades of Blue
Author/Artist:
arizaki_shisaku
Pairing: Sohma Yuki x Sohma Kyo
Fandom: Fruits Basket
Theme: #15 - Perfect blue
Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.
[posted @
starry_ink from
ink_magic ]
written for
30_kisses
30_kisses Prompt 15 - Perfect Blue
Yuki’s favorite color was, and is, blue.
It always has been, because Yuki is fascinated by all the different hues blue is able to take on, from a bright turquoise to an inky midnight blue.
Blue is also symbolic to Yuki, because in his mind, he remembers most of his memories in shades of blue, or by one particular blue object that stood out.
Yuki remembered his old room at the main Sohma house because Shigure had come and helped the then six year old Yuki paint it in a soothing pastel blue shade, so similar to the sky the young Yuki could see through the window. Lying on his bed, Yuki imagined that there were clouds instead of ceiling and that one day, he could float away on a cloud and be free from the prison of the jyuunishi curse.
Yuki remembered those horrible, horrible “playdates” with Akito, only because the floor in the room from which Akito ruled was tiled in contrasting blocks of ivory white and navy blue. Yuki had considered the juxtaposition of this quite ugly, but had never dared to point his thought out to Akito. He had grown long used to feeling a sharp, searing pain through his body before his face met the cool floor and he saw a navy blue floor tile right by his eye. Blood, Yuki’s blood, flecked across the floor, bright and always visible even against the dark blue tiles. Yuki imagined the floor tiles shook and quivered as Akito laughed, inhuman and malicious, and Yuki wanted to cover his ears to block out that terrible sound if he didn’t hurt so much all over.
--
Yuki remembered his mother, only because she had loved him so much and her eyes were the most spectacular blue he had ever seen. He had loved her, and the happiest memories he would cherish forever were of his mother tickling him as she tucked him into bed at night and how her lips brushed and moved softly against his forehead as she whispered, “good night, Yuki”.
Yuki remembered the funeral of his mother - it was a bleak, dreary day. On her grave were the blue flowers that Yuki himself had gathered from the grassy field mother and son used to play and frolic in for hours, gathering flowers and hearing their mixed laughter ring in the air.
Yuki had gone to that very field after he had found his mother, dead and cold on the floor, a single bullet in her head, and the tiniest bit of blood pooling under the wound.
He didn’t dare believe that she was dead - he was only eight, and he believed that his mother would always be there, forever and ever.
He had never imagined a time when his mother wouldn’t hug him and tell him she loved him. But as Yuki tearfully caught sight of his mother’s blank, blue eyes, the eyes that Yuki adored so much, he knew that she really was dead.
He screamed, screamed until his young throat was hoarse, yelling “why, why” over and over again. At last, it was Hatori who rushed in to comfort Yuki - the very man Yuki hated because he erased the memories of all of Yuki’s friends in a time not so long ago.
Yuki ran out of the door, past Hatori’s legs, ran to the field (their field, as Yuki called it) and throwing himself onto the sun-kissed grass, he cried for hours.
--
Yuki ventured to the same field four days alter, as his mother was packed away into a too-small coffin and lowered into a humble last resting place at the Sohma cemetery. Akito didn’t attend, and Yuki was glad. As the final shovel of dirt was laid on the fresh grave, Yuki hesitantly stepped forward and laid a simple wreath constructed of blue flowers that he had gathered. It made a cheery splash of color against the otherwise gloomy sky.
His mother would have liked the flowers, Yuki thought.
--
The next time Yuki came to associate with the color blue was with Kyo. It was so ironic, actually, since before Yuki started up his wobbly relationship with Kyo, he would have defined Kyo as all bright orange hair and flashing ruby eyes.
The first time it was because Yuki had fallen asleep on the sofa one lazy Saturday afternoon while Tohru was out shopping, Shigure visiting Ayame, and Kyo was out doing his own devices. It was a rather chilly and breezy November afternoon, and upon blinking open disoriented violet eyes, Yuki was met with a soft, fuzzy sea of blue.
It took him a few moments to realize that it was Kyo’s sweater thrown over Yuki’s thin body (he should have known sooner, dammit - the sweater smelled like Kyo).
Smiling at Kyo’s thoughtfulness, Yuki abandoned the homework he had fallen asleep over and lightly knocked on the door to Kyo’s room.
“What?” Kyo grouchily snapped as he yanked the door open. Upon seeing that it was only Yuki, he let the door swing slightly wider.
“I’m just returning your sweater, baka neko. Um, thanks…”
Kyo stared oddly at Yuki and then accepted the sweater in Yuki’s hand.
“No problem,” Kyo said gruffly and retreated back into his room again, shutting the door with a sharp snap.
--
Riffling through all of Yuki’s memories, through the sparkling blue of his mother’s eyes, from the blue ribbons perpetually in Tohru’s hair to Kyo’s sweater, there was only one instance of blue that, in Yuki’s mind, was the perfect blue.
The blue-glazed sinks in the boy’s bathroom at school was Yuki’s idea of the perfect blue, because it was in the boy’s bathroom one Thursday after school when Kyo finally cracked and snarling, thrust Yuki against the wall and kissed the rat senseless.
Yuki had been taken aback at first before realizing that he loved this, he loved the rough, passionate kiss, and he loved the feel of Kyo’s wonderfully soft lips on his.
He kissed Kyo back, running his hands through orange strands of hair as Kyo’s hands tenderly cupped Yuki’s face.
They backed up against Yuki’s back was pushed against the wall, and perfectly across from them was one of the sinks, a garish blue color and ugly as hell.
When they separated, Yuki stared at the sink, memorizing it so he would always come to associate it with his first kiss, their first kiss, and the start of his relationship with Kyo, before his eyes fluttered shut and he turned his face up for Kyo’s second kiss.
The glaze on the sink was ugly, chipped, and worn away by generations of students (Shigure swore it was that exact same shade when he was in school), but in Yuki’s mind, it symbolized hope, chance, and love.
Ironic as it may seem, the blue of the sinks in the boys' bathroon at school was indeed the perfect blue.
-fin-
Author/Artist:
arizaki_shisaku
Pairing: Sohma Yuki x Sohma Kyo
Fandom: Fruits Basket
Theme: #15 - Perfect blue
Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.
[posted @
starry_ink from
ink_magic ]
written for
30_kisses
30_kisses Prompt 15 - Perfect Blue
Yuki’s favorite color was, and is, blue.
It always has been, because Yuki is fascinated by all the different hues blue is able to take on, from a bright turquoise to an inky midnight blue.
Blue is also symbolic to Yuki, because in his mind, he remembers most of his memories in shades of blue, or by one particular blue object that stood out.
Yuki remembered his old room at the main Sohma house because Shigure had come and helped the then six year old Yuki paint it in a soothing pastel blue shade, so similar to the sky the young Yuki could see through the window. Lying on his bed, Yuki imagined that there were clouds instead of ceiling and that one day, he could float away on a cloud and be free from the prison of the jyuunishi curse.
Yuki remembered those horrible, horrible “playdates” with Akito, only because the floor in the room from which Akito ruled was tiled in contrasting blocks of ivory white and navy blue. Yuki had considered the juxtaposition of this quite ugly, but had never dared to point his thought out to Akito. He had grown long used to feeling a sharp, searing pain through his body before his face met the cool floor and he saw a navy blue floor tile right by his eye. Blood, Yuki’s blood, flecked across the floor, bright and always visible even against the dark blue tiles. Yuki imagined the floor tiles shook and quivered as Akito laughed, inhuman and malicious, and Yuki wanted to cover his ears to block out that terrible sound if he didn’t hurt so much all over.
--
Yuki remembered his mother, only because she had loved him so much and her eyes were the most spectacular blue he had ever seen. He had loved her, and the happiest memories he would cherish forever were of his mother tickling him as she tucked him into bed at night and how her lips brushed and moved softly against his forehead as she whispered, “good night, Yuki”.
Yuki remembered the funeral of his mother - it was a bleak, dreary day. On her grave were the blue flowers that Yuki himself had gathered from the grassy field mother and son used to play and frolic in for hours, gathering flowers and hearing their mixed laughter ring in the air.
Yuki had gone to that very field after he had found his mother, dead and cold on the floor, a single bullet in her head, and the tiniest bit of blood pooling under the wound.
He didn’t dare believe that she was dead - he was only eight, and he believed that his mother would always be there, forever and ever.
He had never imagined a time when his mother wouldn’t hug him and tell him she loved him. But as Yuki tearfully caught sight of his mother’s blank, blue eyes, the eyes that Yuki adored so much, he knew that she really was dead.
He screamed, screamed until his young throat was hoarse, yelling “why, why” over and over again. At last, it was Hatori who rushed in to comfort Yuki - the very man Yuki hated because he erased the memories of all of Yuki’s friends in a time not so long ago.
Yuki ran out of the door, past Hatori’s legs, ran to the field (their field, as Yuki called it) and throwing himself onto the sun-kissed grass, he cried for hours.
--
Yuki ventured to the same field four days alter, as his mother was packed away into a too-small coffin and lowered into a humble last resting place at the Sohma cemetery. Akito didn’t attend, and Yuki was glad. As the final shovel of dirt was laid on the fresh grave, Yuki hesitantly stepped forward and laid a simple wreath constructed of blue flowers that he had gathered. It made a cheery splash of color against the otherwise gloomy sky.
His mother would have liked the flowers, Yuki thought.
--
The next time Yuki came to associate with the color blue was with Kyo. It was so ironic, actually, since before Yuki started up his wobbly relationship with Kyo, he would have defined Kyo as all bright orange hair and flashing ruby eyes.
The first time it was because Yuki had fallen asleep on the sofa one lazy Saturday afternoon while Tohru was out shopping, Shigure visiting Ayame, and Kyo was out doing his own devices. It was a rather chilly and breezy November afternoon, and upon blinking open disoriented violet eyes, Yuki was met with a soft, fuzzy sea of blue.
It took him a few moments to realize that it was Kyo’s sweater thrown over Yuki’s thin body (he should have known sooner, dammit - the sweater smelled like Kyo).
Smiling at Kyo’s thoughtfulness, Yuki abandoned the homework he had fallen asleep over and lightly knocked on the door to Kyo’s room.
“What?” Kyo grouchily snapped as he yanked the door open. Upon seeing that it was only Yuki, he let the door swing slightly wider.
“I’m just returning your sweater, baka neko. Um, thanks…”
Kyo stared oddly at Yuki and then accepted the sweater in Yuki’s hand.
“No problem,” Kyo said gruffly and retreated back into his room again, shutting the door with a sharp snap.
--
Riffling through all of Yuki’s memories, through the sparkling blue of his mother’s eyes, from the blue ribbons perpetually in Tohru’s hair to Kyo’s sweater, there was only one instance of blue that, in Yuki’s mind, was the perfect blue.
The blue-glazed sinks in the boy’s bathroom at school was Yuki’s idea of the perfect blue, because it was in the boy’s bathroom one Thursday after school when Kyo finally cracked and snarling, thrust Yuki against the wall and kissed the rat senseless.
Yuki had been taken aback at first before realizing that he loved this, he loved the rough, passionate kiss, and he loved the feel of Kyo’s wonderfully soft lips on his.
He kissed Kyo back, running his hands through orange strands of hair as Kyo’s hands tenderly cupped Yuki’s face.
They backed up against Yuki’s back was pushed against the wall, and perfectly across from them was one of the sinks, a garish blue color and ugly as hell.
When they separated, Yuki stared at the sink, memorizing it so he would always come to associate it with his first kiss, their first kiss, and the start of his relationship with Kyo, before his eyes fluttered shut and he turned his face up for Kyo’s second kiss.
The glaze on the sink was ugly, chipped, and worn away by generations of students (Shigure swore it was that exact same shade when he was in school), but in Yuki’s mind, it symbolized hope, chance, and love.
Ironic as it may seem, the blue of the sinks in the boys' bathroon at school was indeed the perfect blue.
-fin-