#kyoruweek2020

[eliseliedl]

@kyoruweekofficial Day 4: Lover 

[yukeru]

Kyoru week 2020 day 1: my wish || @kyoruweekofficial 

we were something, don't you think so?

[starpawedart]

KYORU WEEK -- Day Five: Precious

I wasn’t sure if I would be able to squeeze anything in for @kyoruweekofficial, but thankfully I had a little bit of free time! I couldn’t resist some soft, truly precious moments between these two goobers.

[gotemsayingw0w]

Kyoru Week Day 5

Prompt: Precious @kyoruweekofficial

It had been bothering him all day. A nagging, itchy feeling on his left shoulder. Innocuous enough that it wasn’t debilitating, but annoying enough that it was starting to really piss him off. So much so, that the second he got home from work, he ripped the top of his karategi off, searching for the culprit of his discomfort. 

Kyo Sohma considered himself a simple man. He never really cared for fashion, instead choosing loose, comfortable clothing that was easy to move around in. It was why he could pack every single item of clothing he owned in a single duffel bag if he really wanted to. It was why he could go for a several mile run in every single item of clothing he owned if he really needed to. It was why, despite teasing from his cousins, friends, and his girlfriend, he kept around clothes that others deemed “hideous.” They were comfortable, dammit. 

He hated tight clothes. He hated accessories. When he first began living with Shishou, he hated wearing his gi with his belt. He hated any type of rough, scratchy fabric. As he began running his fingers over the black fabric of his gi, searching for a loose thread or piece of lint that was irritating him, he got even more pissed off because this gi was perfectly worn in. If it was irreparably ruined he’d have to buy a new one and those took months to get to the loose, flexible uniform that Kyo deemed acceptable for work.

His fingers brushed over a small, raised bump and he grinned, triumphant that he wasn’t wrong, there was something off. There, among the stiff black cotton, was a series of tiny stitches, appearing to be in the shape of a heart.

“What the hell…” he whispered, bringing the cloth directly under the light of the flashlight on his phone. Sure enough, covering a small hole he didn’t remember having in this gi, there was an embroidered heart. He pinched the fabric between his fingers to confirm that this tiny patch was what had been bothering him all day.

He was certain it was the work of Tohru, his girlfriend. He couldn’t possibly think of another person besides the two of them who handled their dirty laundry and he definitely was not going to be the one to sew a heart over the hole let alone even notice it. 

He walked into the single bedroom in their apartment, still holding the gi in his hand, running through his mind the various articles of clothing he had that had gathered small holes over the years. He never minded tiny little punctures in the sleeves or collars of his shirts or the weathered fabric in the knees of his pants. If something became too ratty, he’d always just thrown it away. But for some reason, the tiny patch on his gi connected something in his mind. He’d never held onto clothes this long before he knew Tohru. 

Sure enough, he pulled item after item out of their shared wardrobe that had small little patches sewing up holes in his clothes. Most of them were simple, almost inscrutable. Places where seams had torn and been re-stitched with care and precision, but certainly not the factory-made stitches that came with the clothes. On other pieces of his clothing, however, there were the same tiny patches. 

A pair of jeans with a tiny hole on the thigh had a tiny square sewn around it, the thread the same color as the denim. One of his favorite red hoodies that had garnered a small hole in the sleeve, had an embroidered triangle. His yellow v-neck that hardly fit anymore, but stayed in his wardrobe out of protest (he really didn’t think it was that ugly) had a tiny sun stitched around a hole in the hem. A pair of his most comfortable boxers had a tiny, orange cat sewn in the seat.

Quickly, a pile of mended clothes ended up at his feet until all that was left in his wardrobe were four white undershirts, a dearth of rarely-worn pants, and some of his less-preferred socks and underwear. Scattered around the floor were all of his most favorite, most comfortable clothing, somehow altered in an attempt to preserve their life.

The sound of a key turning in the door caught his attention and he listened as she called out in a sing-song tone, “I’m home!” The sound of rustling grocery bags, cabinets opening and closing, and water running from the sink brought him back down to Earth and, as Tohru’s footsteps neared their bedroom, he felt a blush creep to his cheeks. 

“I didn’t realize you would beat me home!” She said as she walked down the hallway towards the door. “Did you have...an early…” her voice trailed off as she entered the room. She scanned the floor and the bed, no doubt trying to process exactly what he was doing. 

“Hi,” Kyo said, holding an unscathed white undershirt in his hand as if he’d been caught committing a crime. 

“Hi,” Tohru breathed in response. She didn’t ask a question, but the curiosity in her eyes indicated she would like to know the answer.

“My gi had a hole in it,” Kyo answered.

She frowned. “Another one?” She carefully stepped over the pile of clothes on the floor to grab the top off of the bed. Holding the garment up to inspect it, she asked “Where?”

Kyo shook his head. “Had,” he emphasized.

Tohru nodded. “The one in the shoulder? Yeah, I noticed it a few nights ago. Is it holding up okay?”

“Did you fix it?”

“Of course!”

“When?”

“Last night when I couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

“Did you fix all of these?”

Tohru blinked, confused by the line of questioning. She nodded. Of course she had mended them. Who else would have? “Are you upset that I fixed them?” She asked. Her face remained neutral, but the slight wavering in her voice displayed her nerves.

Kyo’s initial response was automatic. “N-no, I’m not…” he lowered the white undershirt back into the dresser. “I just didn’t…” he couldn’t finish the thought.

Was he upset that she fixed them? No. Actually, he was rather touched by the gesture. She knew how much he valued comfort and how well-loved his clothes were that she went out her way to preserve them. It was, at its core, the most kind gesture. The purest display of love that could possibly exist. Of course he wasn’t upset that she fixed them, no. The emotion was much more complicated than that.

It was the same feeling he had when she’d confessed to him two years prior, albeit on a much smaller scale. It was such a clear, irrefutable declaration of love that he was not expecting. He had spent so much of his life feeling not only undeserving of love, but turned off to the idea completely. He wasn’t the kind of person who could be loved. He didn’t deserve it. He was a terrible person, a monster. Whenever someone close to him tried to offer him love, he immediately became defensive.

That feeling, the feeling of being undeserving, had gotten better since he had met Tohru and especially since they had moved away together nearly a year ago. But it crept in occasionally. He was still plagued by negative thoughts sometimes. That small voice inside his head piped up every so often to tell him he didn’t deserve any of this. However, in her actions and with her words, she reminded him every day you do deserve this. She didn’t have to say it verbatim; it was evident in all that she did for him.

He wasn’t upset, he was disarmed. There he had been, minding his own business, when the reminder of just how much she loved him and cared for him slapped him across the face. He needn’t ask the question why, especially because he knew the answer. But knowing the answer didn’t make the display any less surprising. 

Tohru carefully side-stepped the piles of clothes, moving lightly on her tiptoes towards him, and wrapped her arms around his middle. He, in turn, wrapped his around her shoulders and brushed her hair with his lips. He couldn’t help it, he asked the question anyway.

“Why did you fix my gi?”

She pressed her chin against his chest, looking up at him with her wide, earnest eyes. “Because it’s your favorite one.” She answered simply, as if it had been obvious the whole time.

“I never said that,” he responded and she smiled at him.

“It was pretty obvious,” she mused. He raised his eyebrows waiting for her to continue. “You always reach for that one first,” she explained. “It’s certainly the softest and most broken in. Plus, it was a gift from Kunimitsu-san before our move. It’s special to you.”

And there it was. She was right, it was his favorite. It was the most comfortable. He didn’t attribute much to the fact that it was a gift, but her logic was sound.  He was disarmed because, without saying a word, she told him ‘I get it. You love this. And because you love it and I love you, it’s precious to me. I’ll preserve it for you.’

She’d never have to speak the words ‘I love you’ if she didn’t want to. She said it to him in her gestures alone. She saw who he was at his core, appreciated it, and nurtured it so that it wouldn’t change. And as she did so, she reminded him you deserve this.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tucking a hand under her chin and tilting her head to meet her lips softly with his own. She beamed at him.

She returned her head to his chest, pressing her cheek against him until she could hear his heartbeat. “It’s a mess in here.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I had to come in here and see what other girly patches you put all over my stuff.” 

She pinched his back. “They’re not girly,” she insisted. “Besides, if you really never noticed until today that I’ve been fixing your clothes for four years, then you should be a little embarrassed,” she teased back.

“Lucky for you, your careful craftsmanship has made it so I never noticed.” He stepped back, retrieving the gi top from the bed and held it out for her. “But you’ve gotten sloppy. Damn heart was bothering me all day.”

She pinched the heart between her fingers, confirming that it was a bit more pronounced than some of her other patches. “You’re right,” she nodded, her face taking on a grave (although clearly exaggerated) expression. “Certainly a manly patch would not be so itchy.”

“Exactly,” he confirmed. He reached down and gathered the pile of clothes in his arms, sitting on the bed with them so he could refold them and put them away. 

She planted a kiss on the top of his head before she turned to leave. “I’ll go make a very manly dinner to make up for it,” she said, grinning, and he rolled his eyes. 

*  *  *

The following morning, he left for work, his bag already packed with his other favorite karategi and lunch he’d prepared the night before. He changed at the dojo, and, when met with the sound of snickers, quirked his eyebrows at the teen class before him.

“Nice heart, shihan,” one of the girls said, her palm covering her mouth.

Kyo craned his neck to look at his shoulder in the mirror and, sure enough, he was wearing the gi from yesterday, no doubt slipped into his bag by Tohru when he wasn’t looking. There, on his shoulder, was the hole with a new patch covering it. A small, pink heart in contrast with the black cotton. 

He shook his head, the smile on his face betraying the annoyance he was trying to convey. “God dammit.”

[liquorisce]

... i’ll protect you from your dreams

written for @kyoruweekofficial day 2 prompt: dream

fandom: fruits basket

rating: t

summary: some nights when kyo is fragile, he seeks comfort in tohru’s arms.                                                          OR  

“I dreamt I couldn’t be with you,” he murmurs, quietly, unsure if Tohru was still awake. “… that you would choose someone else.”

Everything feels different. 

“… Well, I hope it fits you. I have to admit, you are a bit, uhm, thinner than I accounted for.” 

“It’s fine,” he says, and it comes out as a rasp, and his voice sounds different to his own ears, different without the echo of the small, dark room. It feels strange almost, the faint chill of the breeze against his arm, the burn of the sun on his face. 

“Here, got you lunch… in case you were hungry.”

Kyo squints at the paper bag, daylight far too bright for his ill-adjusted eyes as he carefully unwraps the burger he was presented with. When was the last time he’d eaten food that wasn’t prepared in the Sohma kitchen? 

“… Maybe we should just sit in my room?” 

Kyo nods, looking over at the soft voice that was speaking to him. Never had he imagined that 5 years into isolation, the first person he would greet in the fresh, open air… would be Yuki. 

Yuki gestures for Kyo to sit on the bed and he does, sinking into the mattress, the plush type that the rat boy had always had a taste for. 

He’s silent and the only noise in the room is the crunch of the burger in Kyo’s mouth. “I asked them to leave out the onions,” Yuki says with a grin. 

Kyo offers one in return, but it’s feeble. Everything feels feeble about him, now that he’s stepped into the outside world.  

There’s more silence, and Kyo finishes his meal, grateful to have eaten something different. “… I guess I should probably try that on, huh,” he mumbles, eyeing the black suit that Yuki had laid out for him. 

Yuki eyes him hesitantly. “… A shower, first. And a shave. It’s a wedding, not a funeral.” 

He cringes visibly, not that he needed reminding of the occasion. He’d had months, weeks and days to prepare for this, with little else to do in his chamber of darkness, except sit with his thoughts. 

It seemed simple in theory, he thinks, as the warm jet of water hits him. It wasn’t a shocking revelation that they would come to this day. He’d been preparing for it since his final year of high school. 

He takes in his reflection, and realizes that Yuki is right. He had grown thinner. His cheekbones showed so clearly, you couldn’t just call them defined anymore, it was definitely jutting. Sighing, he lifted the razor to his cheeks. 

“The new look suits you, Kyo-kun,” she’d said with a shy smile when she’d first seen his beard. 

How long ago was that? A year after his confinement? She was probably just being nice, he thinks bitterly as he shaves it off completely. 

(He doesn’t want to think of her bitterly. He has no right.)

“Some people are just blessed,” Yuki quips, as he walks out of the bathroom, towel at his hips. “… even at your worst, you still have more ab definition than I do.” 

Kyo smiles weakly. “… Still couldn’t beat you if I tried.” 

Their interactions had changed so much, he wonders what his young self would think if he’d see them today. If only he knew that the boy who he’d spent his whole life hating would be the one visiting him every other weekend, sneaking in treats, bringing him word from the others… arguing with Akito to make sure he was allowed outside, just for today.

He slips on the white shirt, thankful that he doesn’t drown in it. Yet. 

“… Hey, Kyo.” Yuki’s tone betrays his worry, and Kyo isn’t ready for it yet. He isn’t ready to talk about these feelings that haven’t left him since he first heard the news. 

“… Are you sure you want to do this?” 

“I promised her,” he mutters, so many years ago, on the rooftop, a precious memory that she’s probably forgotten, but he just can’t seem to. 

“I know, but she’ll understand. This must be… difficult for you. You don’t have to put yourself through this,” - 

“… I said I’d support her!” 

He’s taken aback by his own outburst, but that’s the truth of it. It’s a promise he’d made to her, the love of his life, when they were young and seventeen and he’d already realized that this was all he could do. He’d support her love no matter what. No matter who. 

But it was also a promise he’d made to himself, the last precious memory he is holding on to before he truly gives up. 

But no amount of preparation or self pep talks comes to his aid when he sees her walk in, long flowing dress in peach pink, veiled, with Hanajima and Uotani by her side. His mind is blank first because the immensity of what he is witnessing is too much for him. 

When he said goodbye to her 5 years ago and she cried for him, embraced him in the only way that was awkwardly possible, it was him walking away. It was a future he’d spent his whole life running away from, but when he went inside, it was still him who left. 

But when he sees her, sees Tohru, beautiful and radiant, just like he remembered her, but somehow so much more, it’s brutal because this time it’s her walking, only walking down the aisle. Towards someone else. 

He’d never thought his heart could break a second time, but it did and it’s worse because he’d never paid attention to this ugly, painful, thing called hope that had tried desperately to glue the pieces together - and it crushes him. 

Kyo is standing on the corner of the aisle, and as Tohru comes closer, he can feel himself splintering inside. 

“… Kyo-kun,” she says, her voice quivering. It takes a moment for him to realize that she’s stopped in front of him, that she’s standing barely two steps away from him, and she hasn’t been this close in years… 

When he looks up to see her, he’s shocked to see a stricken look on her beautiful features. “Kyo-kun,” she gasps, worried, “what are you doing here?” 

“… Why aren’t you up there?” 

“Hana-chan, Uo-chan, who is that?” She asks, frantic, pointing to the man in the black suit at the altar. “Why is Kyo-kun not standing at the altar like we practiced?”

“Tohru…” 

“Kyo-kun,” she cries, reaching for his face, “What happened to you? You look so different… so sad…” 

Tears are streaming down his face, and the feeling in his chest tightens as she throws her arms around him whispering, “Kyo-kun, come back to me…”

“Tohru, no,” he rasps, afraid because there’s so many people around - he can’t afford to transform, but he can’t shake her off. “Please, I,” - 

He wakes up heaving, sweat and tears running down his face. The sadness, the pain… it’s visceral, gripping at his chest. 

And Tohru - God, she was crying too, scared, worried tears, holding on to him, like she’d never let go. 

It’s then that he takes note of the arm entwined with his, on the futon.

He curses softly when he sees her, relief overwhelming him, when he sees her brown hair spread across the sheets, her mouth parted blissfully in her slumber. 

He is overcome with the urge to hold her, and so he does, loosening his arm from her hold and wrapping himself around her, so close that her smell drives away the remnants of his nightmare. 

“Mmm,” she mumbles, stirring, “… Kyo..?”

“Sorry,” he whispers into her hair, “… I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“… You’re so warm,” she giggles, but she stops short when she feels something wet on her neck. 

She stiffens, alarmed. “… Kyo-kun?” 

His hold tightens and she sinks into it, clutching his arm tightly. “You’re trembling… what’s wrong?” 

She can hear his breathing, rough, panicked. “Tohru… Please…” 

“Kyo-kun, what is it? Did you have a bad dream?” She turns towards him, cradling his face. 

“… Hold me, please,” he whispers, and she does tightly, letting him burrow his face into her chest, caressing his back softly.

When his breathing calms, and his sobs have quietened, he realises how shaken he was by the picture in his head. 

“I dreamt I couldn’t be with you,” he murmurs, quietly, unsure if Tohru was still awake. “… that I would be locked up… that you would choose someone else,” - 

“Never.” Her grip tightens around him. 

She kisses his forehead softly, wiping away the dampness on his cheeks, trying her best to stop her own tears from falling. Things have changed now, and mistakes have been forgiven, but the damage it’s done could never be undone. 

And with Kyo fragile in her arms tonight, she’s not sure that it’s something she’ll ever forgive. 

So she vows to protect it, the fragility of his heart, the wounds he desperately tries to hide, the love he so freely showers upon her. 

“Don’t you know, Kyo-kun,” she whispers gently against his mouth, “… I’d never have let them take you away from me.”

- fin - 

day 1 submission

@kyoruweekofficial

[riceballcatfb]

My Wildest Dreams

Song used for inspiration: “Wildest Dreams” by Ron Pope Rating: K+ ***WARNING: major, major manga spoilers! Read at your own risk!***

"I've been waiting all my life

for some reason that I never could describe.

You're not quite what I pictured you would be;

you're better than my wildest dreams."

According to her grandfather, when Tohru was little, she told everyone she wanted to be a veterinarian when she grew up. She wanted to save lots of animals, particularly cats. She dreamed of marrying a Prince Charming and having a house full of kids. She said her mom would be the best grandmother.

As she grew, those dreams shrank.

When she was old enough to truly understand the impact her father's death had had on the household finances, she quickly realized that college would not be an option. She and her mother were comfortable enough, but guilt ate away at Tohru whenever she thought about how hard Kyoko worked to keep them afloat. So she decided she would start working right after high school graduation, and take care of her mom for a change. Marriage and kids someday would be nice, yes, but they weren't a priority like they seemed to be when she was a little girl daydreaming about the future.

Then her mom died.

The dream of working hard after high school, buying her mom a nice house and taking care of her for the rest of her life crumbled away.

And she was left with nothing.

Not only did Tohru have no particular dreams or goals for the future anymore, but she also realized she had no sense of identity. She had lived her entire life up to that point doing whatever she thought would make her mother happy. Whatever would keep her mom alive in the years following her father's death.

She started to question everything.

Was she actually extremely polite? Or was it just because she'd adopted her father's personality in a desperate attempt to keep some part of him alive? How would she talk if she hadn't done that in the first place?

Was her favorite color actually pink? Or did she just say that because her mother used to say that "pink was for Tohru"?

Did she still actually want to work right after high school?

Did she actually want to even keep going to high school at all?

Did she actually want to keep living?

And then there was him.

Kyo didn't change everything overnight, of course. He wasn't capable of something like that. He wasn't a superhero. Really, he wasn't even a Prince Charming, exactly (though he was incredibly attractive, it was hard to refer to him as a prince when he had been screaming at her constantly in the months following their first meeting).

But something about him felt like home. When he was around, something inside her started to thaw. She figured out eventually that it was her heart. He made her feel again.

At some point, she started seeking him out when she entered a crowded room. She started getting goosebumps whenever he said her name. An indescribable fire was lit within her belly whenever he touched her or got near her. Thoughts that he was "conventionally attractive" changed to an almost-obsession; she loved everything about him. His rough hands, his broad and toned shoulders, his sharp jawline and the slight orange stubble that would sit on it when he hadn't shaved for a couple days. And God forbid he ever walked around the house without a shirt on.

It was terrifying. Absolutely, positively horrifying.

So, naturally, Tohru tried to deny it.

She didn't love him. She couldn't.

But she did. She knew that.

So she pushed the blame off on her mother. Falling in love with Kyo, with anyone would mean taking attention from her mother. It simply wasn't worth it. It would be a dishonor to her mom's memory. That excuse worked for a while.

But one day, Shigure had asked her a peculiar question. It was only a few words. He never even finished it.

"Do you want to save Kyo? Do you love…?"

The feeling that washed over her in that moment was devastating. A sense of realization had never hit her so hard before. Yes, she did want to save Kyo. Yes, she did love Kyo. There was nothing she could do about it. There was no way to deny it anymore--if other people were noticing, she was doing a lousy job hiding it, anyway, and was clearly in too deep.

She knew, then, that she needed to tell him. It was a burning desire, one that was so intense it left her knees weak and with stars in her vision when Kyo had approached her later that day.

Brave. She needed to be brave.

But she couldn't. The words sat on her tongue, heavy and made bitter by her fear of rejection, her fear of losing him.

So she stayed quiet. Staying quiet was always the safer option.

Nothing gained, but nothing lost, either.

She'd stayed quiet until that night in the rain, when he confessed. When he told her he fell in love with her by accident, that he was there when her mom passed, that he wished he had died that day instead of Kyoko.

That was when she finally let her words pour out. Her voice was wobbly, almost drowned out by the thrum of the rain on the ground. But she said it. She said everything she had been bottling up.

She loved him. She wanted to be with him.

And then he left.

***

Tohru gasped for air, springing up in bed.

Dream. It was just a dream.

But that realization didn't stop her palms from sweating or her entire body from trembling in distress.

She ran her fingers over the bandages she still wore from the hospital. Even though those disjointed thoughts had only been a dream...just hours ago, she hadn't known whether or not Kyo really loved her in return. Just hours ago, that dream had been her reality.

Tohru drew her legs up to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees. She took deep breaths in an attempt to calm her heartbeat. But after a moment, she felt her shoulders tremble, and she released her breath in a sob. She hugged her legs tightly, mentally scolding herself for being so childish, so weak.

It was just a dream.

Before she really even knew what was happening, her feet were carrying her out of her room and down the hall. Her knuckles were rapping against his door.

"Tohru?" he whispered once he saw her. "It's late. Wait, wh-what's wrong?!"

Tohru rubbed at her damp cheeks, desperately trying to pull herself together as she whimpered. Kyo glanced nervously toward Yuki's door before pulling her into his room. There, she sobbed and cried freely. She couldn't help it. She needed him.

He held her. He stroked her hair, pressed kisses to her temples. He didn't even know what was wrong, but he let her cling to him anyway.

Once she'd settled down, she nuzzled her face against his chest and stammered, voice hoarse, "I dreamt...you were...you left again."

She felt him tense for a moment before sighing and tightening his grip on her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back.

"Promise me…please..." she trailed off, a fresh sob hitching in her throat. He knew what she meant.

"Never again. I promise, Tohru. Never."

She nodded, her anxiety quelled a bit by his response.

"Come lie with me," Kyo told her, tugging her hand until they were positioned on his futon, facing each other. He played with her hair as she started to doze off.

No, he hadn't started out as a Prince Charming. He'd started out crude and harsh. Somewhere along the line, that deceptive anger had turned into endless affection for her. Soft touches and glances, kind words. And now, tight cuddles and languid kisses.

He was her knight in shining armor now. He was kind, smart, handsome, and so very in love with her. He was her biggest supporter, the person she could run to when she was scared. He was her best friend, the love of her life.

He was everything.

He was better than anything she could have dreamt up. 

***

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26872003

@kyoruweekofficial

[ashtheshortstack]

Eyes like the Sun

Rating: G Ship: Kyo/Tohru Prompt: Day 6: Sunset For: @kyoruweekofficial​

Tags: Kyo x Tohru, Kyoru Week 2020, Fluff, Post-Canon, Manga Spoilers

Read on Ao3

There were times in his life where Kyo genuinely couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Never had he thought there would be a day he could get married, have children, and live his life to the fullest. When he was growing up all he was ever told was how he was a monster, how he was horrible and everything was his fault, how he’d be locked away forever. Kyo had been everyone’s scapegoat. The one everyone pushed the blame onto to make themselves feel better. 

Tohru never saw him like that. She saw him as a person. As someone to bond with, to love, to cherish. She was the first person aside from his master to care for him like that. Tohru ran after him, cared for him, cried for him… There was no one else he could want by his side. 

He and Tohru hadn’t been an “official” couple for very long. They were still learning how the “relationship” thing worked considering neither of them had really been in one before. Kyo had gotten the idea of how relationships shouldn’t work from watching the horrible relationships in the Sohma family. They were still a bit awkward about physical affection. The rat called them “suffocating” on multiple occasions. It had gotten easier once they realized that most people were genuinely happy about their relationship and didn’t mind them occasionally holding hands or when he’d tug her in for a hug. Still, the more intimate things like small pecks on the cheek or lips were kept private. Kyo had come to be shy about touching feely actions in front of people because of Kagura constantly clinging to him. 

Although… he didn’t mind Tohru’s clinginess. In fact, he was kind of clingy himself. He never longed for someone’s touch like he did hers. Maybe he was a bit touch starved, but he’d never admit that aloud. Or to Tohru. 

Kyo waited in the hall, sitting against the wall as he was lost in thought. It was so easy to give into his mindseye while thinking about her. She consumed his brain almost all hours of the day.  

Tohru still had extra work to catch up on since being in the hospital, and he would gladly wait for her to finish so they could walk home together. It was something he’d come to love. Something they got to do together privately. Sure, Yuki would walk with them occasionally, but not like he once did. The rat was preoccupied with his own relationship and the responsibilities of being student council president. 

“Kyo!” 

Looking up immediately at the sound of her voice, Kyo couldn’t help the fond smile that etched along his lips at the sight of her. Standing, he picked up his bag as she approached him. “Hey, you. Are you done for the day?” 

Tohru smiled, reaching for his hands. “Mmhm! I have a bit of a headache though,” she replied with a giggle. 

“Are you feeling sick?” he asked, concerned. The last thing he wanted was for her to overwork herself again. She had such a habit of doing that. 

“Not really. I think it’s just from all the numbers.” 

Chuckling, he nodded. “Yeah, alright. Why don’t we order in tonight?” he suggested, intertwining their fingers together. 

Tohru followed along happily as he tugged her along down the hall. 

Man, he loved her. He loved her more than he thought his heart would ever be capable of loving someone. The small smiles she made, how the littlest things made her happy… he adored all of it. Adored every second he got to spend with her. And wanted that to be for the rest of his life. 

“Kyo, look! The sun is setting,” she cheered with a smile, pointing out over the fence lookout. 

He paused with her, keeping his palm firmly against her own. “Yeah, it is.” 

She giggled next to him, leaning her head onto his shoulder. “You know… I always loved sunsets. Even more now than I used to.”

“Hm? Why’s that?” 

“Cause it’s the same color as your eyes.” 

Kyo flinched, gritting his teeth as his face flushed. Blinking down at her, he caught her gaze as she smiled up at her. 

“Don’t say cute things like that, you idiot.” 

Tohru merely laughed in response.

[riceballinthebasket]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Honda Tohru/Sohma Kyou Characters: Honda Tohru, Sohma Kyou Additional Tags: Kyoru Week 2020, day five: precious, Day 5: Precious, Introspection, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love Series: Part 4 of Kyoru Week 2020 Summary:

A poetic drabble alternating between Tohru and Kyo's feelings for one another. Part of Kyoru Week Day 5: Precious

@kyoruweekofficial