Oneshots | Fruits Basket | 1192131999

Thirteen Strings | The Rooster: Kureno Sohma

Months towards the graduation date and everything seemed to have quickened in its pace. The city moved forward while the clock continued to fly by. Nothing felt like stopping in its tracks, always in a manic rush towards what would be the end. But it didn't detract from these moments in the company of the Sohmas. You walked alongside one in the street, not too far from their estate while his clean-cut short hair flurries in the gentle breeze.

"Are you sure you're okay to roam freely?" You questioned with concern, only met with his smile.

"Yes, I should be fine for a while," he replied with assurance, breathing in the air that brought in the spring. There was a calmness about him that felt familiar, similar to that of Tohru Honda. Though you hadn't grown close to her, she and one Kureno Sohma were one in the same.

Kureno hardly made an appearance, always tethered to the estate whether by choice or station. Some things were made clear with his presence, but what light he brought was chained by some dark harbouring force. At least you had felt that way for a while.

"How did you know I was a Sohma?" He asked with curiosity.

"I've heard from Momiji. I've been confirmed from Hatori. And it was luck that we bumped into each other," you replied logically, recalling the first moment you accidentally tripped over his feet.

Kureno laughed under his breath sheepishly, recounting the same moment in his head. "You seem wiser than you look," he remarked with a gentle smile.

"Funny, Hatori thought the same," you chirped in kind. "But I feel older than I look, like I've lived out a life already."

"You shouldn't feel like that."

You watched Kureno's worrisome personality emerge from behind his kind eyes. Again, a Tohru trait you couldn't ignore. You reflected on your choice of words, wryly pursing your lips at the thought. You were on the verge of high school graduation, but spoke of things older than one would comprehend. There were one too many times you almost let the cat out of the bag, almost slipped your tongue into conversation. It was an unspoken rule never to speak of things from within the home, no matter how far away that may be.

You cleared your head and your breath, mulling your next choice of words. You wished you could speak your mind, converse over things you alone must endure.

"It's out of my control, most of the time," you started, pondering on metaphors and analogies. "But I find myself back, like slipping into something familiar but different. Rinse and repeat."

"I don't follow," bluntly remarked Kureno.

"This place isn't my home, but sometimes I would travel back home only to move somewhere else. Go through the same things again and again. And it never felt right."

"Do you plan on moving after graduation?"

The analogies were vague at best, finding Kureno's question redundant, but you saw the effort he put into understanding your explanations. It was unfair, you thought, to try to explain without explaining, to put Kureno in a position he was not aware of. You gripped on your phone, fiddling with its screen for a while with no notifications present.

"I'm not sure," you replied, watching the breeze teeter through the branches of cherry blossom trees up high. "I really do like it here, but I don't know where I will go next."

"I've never been anywhere past these walls. Not for a long time," started Kureno, his eyes on the family estate's high fences. "I'm not sure if this is what I would call freedom, but to see new faces with every visit makes my heart soar." A turn of his lips met with his gentle smile again, a warm tenderness that overshadowed his caged predicament.

"I'm confident that you will make the right choice. You seem so sure of yourself even with the hypotheticals you throw at me," he continued with assurance. "Graduation is only one step, not the pit stop."

How you wish you could say more, to share your life with another that transpired beyond this world. Too grand of a gesture to ask and yet frivolous to comprehend, it made the answers all the more sweeter when heard from any of the Sohmas, whether they understood or not the larger picture.

"Thank you Kureno. Thank you for listening," you gestured with a small smile.

"Don't tell anyone, but you're a cute little Teacup," he chirped.

As blunt as always, you thought, knowing his intentions were misconstrued with his lack of social etiquette or demeanour.

"Please no nicknames," you voiced with concern. "How would your girlfriend take it if she heard you calling me that?"

"Yeah, not too lightly, but she's actually a softie herself," he excused, only causing laughter between the two.

Kureno was a breath of fresh air, though naive as he may be to an extent. For whatever positive perspective formed his opinion, it was untarnished by the fog of doubt. Clarity under his care was a rare encounter, and though you were nearing the end of your story, it was but a chapter for more to come.