[June 9] [Fruits Basket] Less White
Title: Less White
Day/Theme: June 9, "the dream picture pinches its own arm"
Series: Fruits Basket
Character/Pairing: Yuki/Machi
Rating: G
Machi had not lived in a house for a long time. Not since her parents had thrown her out. She asked Yuki if it had been the same for him.
"I lived in houses," he said, "but they were more like cages." But he smiled at her, and it wasn't a sad smile--it was the smile of someone who was finally free.
She understood. The one house she'd lived in as she grew up had been like a cage as well. She wondered at how Yuki still managed to be Yuki even growing up like that, and she treasured him all the more for it.
Things would change, now. They finally had a house together. Machi knew it fell to both of them to make it a home and not a cage. It was going to be a difficult responsibility to shoulder. And yet--
She walked the empty halls and felt as if she were dreaming. When she turned to see Yuki behind her, subtly eager, hopefully expectant, she didn't know what to say.
So she said, "The walls are too white." It was true. Only a dream-house would have walls this white. That meant it couldn't be real. If it were real, it wouldn't accept someone like her. Except that wasn't true; Yuki had accepted someone like her...
"Then," Yuki said, "let's make them less white."
She stared up at him intently. He looked down at her awkwardly. "Thank you," she said fervently, and she clutched his hands. "We'll use our hands and smear blue and silver on the walls. Then we'll hang pictures crooked."
"Pictures of us?" Yuki asked.
"And everyone who made this possible for us," Machi said. She did not say: because that proves it's real, because the skewed edges make it not a dream and not a cage. He already knew.
Day/Theme: June 9, "the dream picture pinches its own arm"
Series: Fruits Basket
Character/Pairing: Yuki/Machi
Rating: G
Machi had not lived in a house for a long time. Not since her parents had thrown her out. She asked Yuki if it had been the same for him.
"I lived in houses," he said, "but they were more like cages." But he smiled at her, and it wasn't a sad smile--it was the smile of someone who was finally free.
She understood. The one house she'd lived in as she grew up had been like a cage as well. She wondered at how Yuki still managed to be Yuki even growing up like that, and she treasured him all the more for it.
Things would change, now. They finally had a house together. Machi knew it fell to both of them to make it a home and not a cage. It was going to be a difficult responsibility to shoulder. And yet--
She walked the empty halls and felt as if she were dreaming. When she turned to see Yuki behind her, subtly eager, hopefully expectant, she didn't know what to say.
So she said, "The walls are too white." It was true. Only a dream-house would have walls this white. That meant it couldn't be real. If it were real, it wouldn't accept someone like her. Except that wasn't true; Yuki had accepted someone like her...
"Then," Yuki said, "let's make them less white."
She stared up at him intently. He looked down at her awkwardly. "Thank you," she said fervently, and she clutched his hands. "We'll use our hands and smear blue and silver on the walls. Then we'll hang pictures crooked."
"Pictures of us?" Yuki asked.
"And everyone who made this possible for us," Machi said. She did not say: because that proves it's real, because the skewed edges make it not a dream and not a cage. He already knew.