If you haven't read the 21st volume of Fruits Basket, you're going to be confused. So, you should either read the 21st volume of Fruits Basket or google Akira Sohma before you read this!.
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Ren stormed out of the room and away from the other members of the household, slamming the rice screen shut behind her. Tears blurred her vision as she sprinted towards the room she shared with Akira-san, a sob ripping from her chest.
The room that they used to share. Now, it was just Ren’s room. Ren’s big, empty, lonely room.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
She collapsed on the floor, grappling with the monster that was trying to fight its way out through her tears as it clawed a ragged hole through her lungs. She didn’t know how long she sat there, heaving as she struggled to pull herself back together and shove the monster as far down into the pits of her stomach as she could manage. Minutes? Hours? It didn’t matter. Time was meaningless without Akira-san. Time was endless.
She couldn’t wait for time to end.
Ren barely registered the quiet footsteps approaching her from behind and pulling aside the rice screen as she lay collapsed against the wall of her room. It’s not Akira-san, a voice rasped hopelessly in her head. And that’s all that matters. She didn’t turn around to face her “guest”. She just wanted the person to leave. They didn’t want to be anywhere near her. They all thought she was inferior to them. If they hated her so much, why couldn’t they just leave her alone?
“Mommy?” a little voice whispered, buckling under the grief it carried. Ren looked down in disgust as a dark-haired little girl dressed in stiff black fabric emerged in front of her and crawled into her lap. “Mommy,” Akito said again, her voice cracking. “Daddy…Daddy’s gone. But he said that he loves you, Mommy,” she added hurriedly. Her indigo eyes stared up into Ren’s black ones, searching fruitlessly for a source of comfort. “He said he’d always love us. Both of us.”
Ren perked up slightly. At least now she knew now that Akira-san hadn’t forgotten about her, in the end. He had thought about her-he had loved her-in his dying hour. And that meant she still mattered.
“What else did he say?” Ren asked Akito carefully, trying to pretend that she genuinely cared about her daughter. It wasn’t easy. The little attention-grabbing monster sickened her. This little beast had pushed her out of the center of Akira-san’s world. Just because Akito was going to be the new God of this twisted, freakish zodiac cult. Now Akito was the center of everyone’s world, and they had all forgotten that Ren even existed. Even Akira-san, the only one who had cared.
Or so she had thought.
“Well,” Akito began, her voice wavering. Ren forgot to breathe. The suspense was pushing down on her brain, and she saw nothing but the knowing expression of the little child in front of her. For the first time, Ren hung on the little girl’s every word. She didn’t have to pretend that she was interested. Akito looked up into her mother’s eyes, and Ren nodded at her daughter with what she hoped was an encouraging expression and flashing her a fake smile that felt more like a grimace.
“Well,” Akito said again. As Ren watched intently, excitement and pride bubbled up in the little girl’s eyes, and Akito’s spirit seemed to lift slightly; she sat up straighter, held her head up higher. “Daddy said I’m gonna be a great God to the zodiac! He said that he didn’t want to go, because he didn’t want to miss a second of watching me grow up and lead our family. He said that everyone is gonna adore me! And, and, and…he said that when I grow up, I’m gonna be really pretty! He said that everyone’s gonna love me, and they’ll be amazed by my beauty! He said I’m gonna be as pretty as you, Mommy!” Akito’s eyes were sparkling with a girlish delight as she looked off into a world only she could see, slack-jawed and smiling at what it showed her.
You can‘t let that happen, the voice rasped in her head again. It can’t be that way…
Ren felt like she was trying to push her way through a sea of cotton. Her senses were being clouded by the monster inside of her as it tore her apart, preventing her from thinking straight. It was pushing its way through her throat now, leaving only tatters in its wake. She knew that soon she would give in entirely.
“No,” she said slowly. She didn’t know why she was going to do it. Maybe it was out of hate. Maybe it was out of love. Maybe it was just what would be best for everyone. But, in the end, it wouldn’t matter why, would it?
Because that was the way it was going to be. The raspy voice was telling the truth. She couldn’t let that happen.
“What, Mommy?” Akito asked in a confused voice. It was obvious that she knew something was wrong. Ren looked down at her, motionless as the little girl pulled at her petite feminine black kimono, a miniature version of her mother’s.
On one hand, Ren almost felt sorry for Akito. This girl was going to have to live her whole life in Ren’s dark shadow. She wasn’t going to let that happen. Not even she wanted that for her daughter.
Besides, she thought to herself. Won’t she be better off if she isn’t raised as a normal little girl?
“No,” Ren said, more firmly this time. “You aren’t going to be as pretty as me. You aren’t going to be anything like me. You’re not even going to be raised as a girl. You’re going to be raised as a boy, Akito.”
Akito stared at Ren, mouth agape, eyes wide. But Ren could feel her own resolve hardening. The raspy voice agreed with her, and even the monster agonizing her throat was quieted for a moment. She knew that she was making the right choice. If Akito was raised as a boy, she’s be more like Akira-san. The family doesn’t want a God anything like me, anyway, Ren thought to herself. They hate me. They think Akira-san could have done better. Which is probably true. But I never even wanted a daughter. And if I can have a smaller, younger version on Akira-san instead…I’d rather have Akira-san than Akito, anyway.
Ren glanced down in annoyance as the little girl began to cry, feeling her eyes smoldering somewhere between hurt and fury. Didn’t she know that the decision was final, that it would only benefit her in the end? Ren stood up, harshly forcing the toddler off her lap. She strode angrily over to the rice screen, sliding it open forcefully and standing to the side, pointing through the gaping entrance. She didn’t have any more patience. She needed time to mourn Akira-san, not deal with this. She didn’t want to remember her daughter Akito. She only wanted Akira-san, and if she couldn’t have him, then she would have to settle for his perfect replica in the form of her son.
“Go,” Ren told her son coldly. “I’ll tell the staff and family. Just go change into something fitting for the young male master of the household.”
By now, the tears were flowing freely down Akito’s face. But Ren didn’t care anymore. She had never wanted this. All she had ever wanted was to live a good life. To be happy. To experience love, a real love. She had never had an easy life to begin with. But she had finally made something for herself, found a tiny island of happiness with Akira-san. And it had been ripped away from her, plunging her back into a sea of darkness. Coldness. Loneliness.
Akito had finally given up looking for comfort in his mother. His pale blue eyes still awash with tears, he brushed past Ren, never looking back. His love for her was gone. Broken. He never again looked into his mother’s face; from that moment on, he didn’t have a mother. Ren’s daughter had given herself for her mother, and in Akito’s eyes, that was enough.
Ren collapsed in her room and sobbed, giving in to the monster. She sobbed for Akira-san. She sobbed for Akito. She sobbed for all the trouble and pain she had caused, and all the trouble and pain she was causing. But mostly, she sobbed for herself. For her losses, her misery, her pain. She didn’t want to live like this. So she sobbed the hours away, not knowing what was going on outside her room, not caring. She didn’t bother to tell the household about the “new” Akito, not caring about the confusion, anger, and resentment her decision would cause. The whole Sohma household though she was a failure and disgrace anyway.
So why bother try to change their opinion? She might as well embrace it, because it was apparently all she had left.
