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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years

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Glass Swords

Summary: Tovar knew he had bad luck–it came with the curse the witch gave him on his thirteenth birthday. Trapped in a contract by a band of bloodthirsty noblemen who use Tovar for his skill with a sword, he has all but resigned himself to a life of servitude. But then a job shoves him into the path of a princess who almost makes him smile. (Cinderella!AU)

Pairing: Pero Tovar/F!Reader

Warnings: None really. I make an allusion to the events of the movie but you don’t have to have seen it to understand this.

Word Count: 4.8k

(Banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites)

Or you can read on Ao3!

Once upon a time, there was a boy who seemed to have remarkably good luck. He was born to a wealthy, aristocratic family, and being the firstborn and a son guaranteed him a title of his own. His horse always came first in races, his opponents were always making simple mistakes in duels. He always had the keen eye to find a forgotten bit of coin on the ground. His first shot always hit its make when he was hunting.

Yes, Pero Tovar was lucky.

Until his luck soured at the hands of a woods witch.

On his thirteenth birthday, on a hunt with his band of friends and loyal servants, he darted into the forest to call for the hunting dog that had gone after gods-knows-what instead of the fowl they’d been hoping for when they set out. Again and again he called for the hound with no luck.

“Your dog has ruined my garden,” came a sudden voice behind him.

Pero turned to see a woman, old and shrouded in tattered grey robes, emerging from the forest shadows. An answering howl soon followed and a muddied hound bounded up to him, remnants of flowers and trampled vegetables hanging from his panting mouth.

And Pero laughed. What else was he supposed to do?

“For too long I have been held at the whim of your family. They have forgotten the treaty they signed when they came here, building your castle on my land and promising that you would provide. That you would never forget. But you have. And then you laugh when my little source of happiness was trampled by a hound.” Words tumbled from her chapped lips in a language he did not recognize and soon felt as if a bucket of icy river water had been dropped over his head.

“What did you do?” He hissed, feeling himself shake like a scared deer.

“I have made sure the world treats you as it treats me.” Her weathered mouth stretched into a smile he could see beneath the cowl. “But I am not cruel. I only want you to learn a lesson. But your lot seem stubborn so I would not be surprised if it took you the rest of your life.” She stepped forward and pulled a blade from the folds of her robes and Pero took an instinctive step back.

Almost instantly, his heel caught on a root and he tumbled to the moss-covered ground, pain zig-zagging up his spine as he landed.

The witch only laughed and continued forward. She twisted the blade in her hand and she held it out to him. And it was not as if he could say no. Not now. The short sword was clear—like glass. As soon as his hand wrapped around the handle, he felt the cold stone form to his grip, imprinting itself to his touch.

“When you’ve pierced the heart of a princess with your glass sword, then and only then will the curse lift.”

“A-a-a princess?” Pero parroted, feeling his stomach drop.

But the witch was gone and all he had was the glass sword.

His bad luck made itself known when he collided with his sister as they both rounded corners and she tumbled down the stone stairs of their home. Sancha was fine, thankfully but Pero would never forget how the blood pooled around her head or the scream she let out as she fell.

That was his fault. He knew it would only get worse as time progressed. He would not endanger his family. And so, Pero left a short note for his mother and father, telling them that he would return once he’d earned his honor on his own. The note he left for his sister told the truth, apologize for her injuring asking for her forgiveness even though he knew he already had it. Sancha was too pure of heart to ever hold any anger.

He set out. At first, trying to find another witch to counteract the curse. Then, to healers who promised anything and everything for the right price. And then, little by little, his hope faded. For a moment, he did consider driving the short blade through the heart of a princess—any princess—to just be rid of the curse. So he could see his family again. So he could live without worrying about bridges, loose bricks, or roots—or the millions of other things that the witch had made unlucky.

But he couldn’t. And in desperation to stay fed, he took up work as a mercenary. Another unlucky decision. It had led him to far flung lands that would have been an adventure to rival any explorer—he had fought creatures from another world!—but he did not enjoy any of it (aside from a few fleeting moments). And he could kill people who were trying to kill him all the time. Pero was good at it, he found. But it did not necessarily give him much opportunity to even know any princesses or be able to pick them out of a crowd so he could…stab them.

His bad luck continued.

When he failed to return to his employers, a group of nefarious noblemen from some country he didn’t care to remember, with the Black Powder they had requested, there were consequences. And now he was stuck in a contract, unable to leave his ‘employment’ because a bottle of ink had spilled across the contract and blotted out a very telling bit of information. He could not leave unless they were all dead. And if he broke that contract, his life would be forfeit.

He never would have signed—obviously—if he had been able to read that line.

But it was done. He was trapped. His bad luck mostly did not endanger his life—and he was sure the witch made sure of that. It would be no fun if it killed him and he was able to rest in death. The closest he had come to death because of his luck was when an ornamental sword fell from its hold on the wall and nearly took his eye.

One of the noblemen who benefitted from his terrible contract said the scar made him look fearsome. But he said it with a curdled milk smirk that rolled Pero’s stomach. It wasn’t a compliment, he knew.

And now he was called in by his ‘employers’ to settle another job. He vaguely listened—something about needing the little kingdom’s valuable port for some trivial reason and the easiest way to acquire the port was for Pero to kill at least the king and his eldest son so the second-born son could become king. Apparently, the noblemen who were employing him had an agreement with the power hungry prince. Pero was sure there were more details but he did not care to commit them to memory. He knew how to kill and his timeline.

That was all that really mattered.

But first, he needed to scout through the dense forest surrounding the castle to find a way in.

He weaved between trees as he started toward the castle. The outer perimeter walls had been easily climbed without drawing attention and while the surrounding grounds were vast, they were not heavily patrolled. As he continued to close the distance to the dark stone of the castle, Pero started to believe that this might the easiest job his contract had ever permitted him. The one solace he had was still being able to learn languages easily so he was able to learn of this mostly-unattended part of the perimeter wall by listening at the nearest market.

The sound of a horse’s hooves on the drying leaves drew his attention, his head whipping to the side, to one of the few bits of sunlight that slipped through the thick trees overhead.

It was a woman—one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, if he was being truthful—sitting atop a horse. She was smiling up at the birds as they sang in the branches. She was dressed in a simple smock and her horse was unsaddled. She was probably a maid from the castle.

But that did not detract from how his throat tightened as he looked at her. She was, after all, beautiful. It was almost embarrassing how he didn’t even realize she had spotted him until it was too late.

“Hello, sir.” Her voice was kind on his ears and he was instantly wondering if she would speak again.

“Hello, my lady.”

“Are you lost? It is not often I see strangers in the kingswood.” She nudged her horse toward him, uncaring of the danger strangers often present. Or maybe she was unknowing. There was a certain sweetness to her that Pero knew could not be feigned.

“I am hunting, my lady. I hope I did not disturb you.”

She shook her head. “I was not aware the king was having a hunting party today. I hope I did not scare away your prey.”

“No, my lady. I have just lost the rest of our party. Do you work at the castle?”

“Yes.” Her smile seemed to be hiding something but Pero thought little of it, instead focusing on how the light made her eyes sparkle.

“Do they treat you well? I am sure I could put in a good word for you,” he said, knowing his roguish smile was starting to cut across his face. He might have the worst luck but he still knew how to make a pretty woman smile.

And it worked because she demurely averted her eyes before biting her lip for a moment. “They treat me much better than they should,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I thank you for the offer.” She cleared her throat before looking at him again. “I can fetch you a bit of water or ale from the kitchens, if you would like? You must be parched.”

“No, no, my lady. But you are kind to offer.”

The sound of someone calling out in the distance had her turning her head with a frown. “I’ve lost track of the hour. I must go.”

And then her dark horse was setting off, galloping between the black-barked trees, and disappearing from sight before he could even ask for her name.

Pero did not find a way into the castle that day. He could have, but he didn’t. His employers allowed him another day of scouting in the woods and he happily took advantage of it and hoped his curse would subside just for a day, or even a few hours, so he might happen upon the maid again.

And his silent plea was heard as he found her at the base of a large tree, a well-worn book settled on her lap.

“Hello again,” she said as she spotted him.

“Hello, my lady.”

She patted the bit of grass beside her and Pero wavered for a moment before taking the offered seat. “Hunting again today?”

“No. I must confess that I was hoping to see you.”

Her answering giggle had something squeezing in the deep recesses of his chest. “Well, you have found me.” She closed the book carefully and turned to face him a little more. “What is your name? I have tried to guess it but I do not think any name I might have conjured would suit you.”

He could have told her his true name. It was not as if she would be able to stop him in his quest. But he knew to never think he could outsmart his curse. “I am Tovar.” And then he quickly added his title that he had not used in decades: “Marquess Tovar.” As if that would somehow make his lie about hunting with the royals more believable.

She gave him her name in return and then started to gently, simply pull him into conversation about anything and everything—from the animals he was unfamiliar with in the forest, to learning how the she grew up inside the castle and still got lost in its twisting, turning halls and rooms.

He knew he should be committing the hints she was giving to him about the castle’s layout to memory but didn’t want to. He only want to continue to hear her speak. She would ask him questions too, about how he was finding her homeland and if he still “did not require a bit of drink to slake his thirst from the kitchens.”

She was…sunlight. And such a sharp contrast to the darkness of the kingdom she resided in with its masses of dark stone, fog, and black wood trees. She did not deserve such darkness. Sunlight. She should have been bathed in sunlight, in warmth, in all things light and lovely. Not here. Not in the dark and cold. Even if it was her home—even if she called it home with a tilt of her beautiful lips.

“Tell me, Tovar. Are you coming to the Masque tomorrow night? I would like to see you again.”

“There is a Masque tomorrow?”

She nodded with another smile and stood, brushing the moss and dirt from her little dress and apron. “The King is celebrating his birthday and his daughter has finally returned from her time abroad.”

“A princess?”

She laughed and held out a hand toward him, helping him to his feet. “Yes. I thought the king would have told you about her when you were hunting.”

“I’ve only heard of his sons,” he said, not entirely lying.

“Either way, will you come to the Masque tomorrow?” She looked so hopeful, so happy. He could not tell her no. And it was with a soft kiss to his cheek that she bid him goodbye and he was left in the dark of the forest, watching her disappear again.

A Royal Masque. And a princess. Perhaps his luck was turning on its own.

This would provide the perfect opportunity for him—kill the princess and be able to dance with the woman whose lips pleasantly burned his skin.

It had been easy to procure an invitation to the Masque. It had been harder to find an outfit that would not gain him unwanted attention. The shops were nearly all too busy or too empty but he did eventually find a decent enough ensemble and matching mask without emptying his coffers too much. His employers had been pleased to know he had found a way into the castle without too much fanfare and seemed to approve of his plan to carry out their plot at the masque. (And if another royal died that night, who would think that it was not part of a larger plan instead of a desperate man trying to break a curse?)

Pero handed over his invitation to the major-domo standing in front of the black and gold doors and was finally ushered inside—even after a few of the knights eyed the short sword sheathed at his hip. The halls were filled with more shining dark stone and gilded suits of armor from centuries past. Paintings and tapestries were hung along the walls, depicting the kingdom’s fabled rise to power. Blooms of white flowers were littered about, a sharp contrast to the darkness that seemed to permeate each corner of this little kingdom.

No couples had already to the floor to dance yet but he did spot a few practicing an almost-familiar set of measured steps away from onlookers. The raised dais filled with a few ornately carved chairs—thrones, he supposed—was empty. His targets were not here yet.

But perhaps she was.

He scanned the crowd but did not spot her—even with everyone wearing masks, he was sure he would recognize her from leagues away.

Music suddenly blared, announcing the arrival of someone important. He turned with the rest of the crowd and listened as the royals were announced. There was the youngest son, the next, and then the eldest. The king was escorted by his daughter, but the answering applause and cheer drowned out her name and Pero could only crane his neck too much to try and get a look before he started to look suspicious.

The first official song was called and the heir apparent took the dance with his betrothed before other couples were allowed to join them on the gleaming wooden floor.

Pero continued to scan the crowd, briefly touching the small vials he’d hidden within his doublet, and found the servant in charge of bringing goblets of wine to the king without much trouble.

It was easy.

But then a woman dressed in fine clothes of the kingdom’s sigil was striding toward him, uncaring of the masses of people bowing and curtseying in her wake and she only slowed to a stop when she was right in front of him. This must be the princess. A mask of gold covered most of her features but her eyes sparkled in such a way that Pero could have sworn he had seen them before. They were alight with recognition and mischief.

“Dance with me,” she whispered.

“Your highness, I-”

The princess tilted her mask up and…

And that was when he realized, the girl from the forest and the princess…were the same person.

His fleeting moment of happiness had actually been another stroke of bad luck. How cruel.

She looked just as beautiful in her finery and jewels as she did in the smock she had donned in the forest. Her grip was gentle as she carefully started to lead him in the dance and didn’t laugh when he stumbled over her gilded shoes. Eventually, thankfully, he righted himself and was able to properly dance with her, letting the music guide his steps with her gentle corrections whenever he missed one or two.

“You’re a princess,” he said, hating the moment they left his lips.

“I am. Very astute of you, Tovar.” She laughed and stepped back from him as the song ended with a flourish and clapped for the minstrels. But then she turned back to him “Come with me,” she murmured, just low enough for him to hear. The princess didn’t wait for his answer and grasped his hands, quickly leading him through the crowd, some of whom tried to stop them, asking for his name, for a moment of the princess’ time, on and on it went. But she did not falter. Her grip did not loosen.

Not until they were out of the humid air of the ballroom and in the beautiful, cooled night air did she finally stop. Her smile was still wide and his face hurt as he felt himself trying to, unconsciously, mirror her expression. His face was not used to the movement. “What are you up to, princess?”

“I have something to show you.” She squeezed his hands once. “Do you have somewhere else you’d rather be? I don’t mean to steal you away if you have someone else waiting for you.”

Pero shook his head. “No. No, princess. I am happy to know you want my time as much as I desire yours.”

She bit her lip with a soft giggle. “Well, I do hope you like it.” She stepped back to link her arm through his, and continued to guide him down the shining palace steps and into the lush, green gardens. It was as easy for her to pull little bits of information from him as she tossed her golden mask into a bush without a care.

“Tell me of your homeland.”

“It is beautiful, your highness. Filled with sunlight and…” he drifted off, finally allowing himself to think of his home and family for the first time in years. “I miss it very much.”

She was quiet as he thought and did not seem to mind as he came back to himself—a familiar, gentle smile on her lips as she looked at him. “You do not strike me as a man who would leave someone or someplace you love so fiercely without cause. What pushed you to do so, if I may be so bold?”

“Bad luck,” he answered simply. “But tell me, why were you in the forest? Not once, but twice and without an escort or lady’s maid.”

Her face twisted into a pout for a moment. “I must admit that I do not care for every bit of royal life. It can all be so…tedious.”

“So, you snuck away?”

She nodded. “Donned my maid’s dress and took my horse from the stables while the hand was busy tending to my brother’s mare. It took hours for them to even notice I’d missed luncheon.”

“Did you not just return from abroad? I would have assumed that they would scarcely let you out of their sights.”

She shook her head with a laugh as they slowed to a stop in front of rusted gate she opened and waved him through. A secret garden greeted them, filled with all the color that the rest of the kingdom seemed to lack. Even in the moonlight, he could see the vibrant yellow, pink, red, and orange hues of the flowers that were growing haphazardly and unkempt by practiced hands. It reminded him, achingly, of the gardens his mother and Sancha would tend to on their own at home. They had always liked the free-roaming blooms over the careful structure of the manicured grounds.

“They like having me close, true. But underfoot is nothing but annoyance for everyone involved.”

“What is this place?” He asked, letting her pull him onto a simply carved bench in the center of the garden.

She turned to him with another smile—she seemed so fond of smiling. “This was my mother’s secret place. Free from the confines of my father’s kingdom and his advisor’s disapproving eyes. She would bring me here when I was little and teach me the names of all the flowers and how to care for them.”

It did not take long for Tovar to recognize the hurt in her tone.

He wondered if she heard it in his voice when he spoke of home. Of his beautiful family in Spain. Perhaps that was why he rarely spoke of them. But he wanted to tell her. Wanted to tell her everything. So, he tried. He told her of the gardens his mother grew and refused to let their servants touch. Told her of how the fields around his home smelled sweet in the spring. Told her of all the colors he had seen on his adventures—even if he had to omit some bits of information to not reveal his true profession. And she listened keenly, asking questions and always seeming to think whatever he had said was interesting. In turn, she told him of her brief time in her mother’s ancestral kingdom, learning all she could and feeling torn when she knew she had to return to her home kingdom.

He was hardly aware of time passing, or how close they had grown on the bench until he heard a crier announcing the time—it was nearing midnight. He turned at the sudden noise and his hand slid across the bench—and quickly earned himself a handful of thorns to the webbing between his fingers. He hissed but hurriedly stopped himself as her gentle, soft hands cradled his and started to remove the thorns one by one. “Bad luck indeed,” she said, teasing. “I had trimmed those blooms back.”

Bad luck.

The sword at his hip grew heavier.

He could do it. He could run the blade through her chest and pierce her heart and be done with this wretched curse. But her eyes were shining in the moonlight and she smiled at him and he…couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Seeming to sense his distress, her smile faded. “Tovar? What ails you?” She reached out toward him and the moment her soft hand touched his cheek…he fled.

Decades of running toward dangers left him in an instant and he ran like a coward. Out of the garden, through the crowded ballroom where people shouted for him to stop, and out into the courtyard.

He fled. He ran until his legs gave out.

And it was only then that he noticed his sword was missing.

Hiding in the woods was not the most comfortable of living quarters but it was not the worst he had used since he had run from home.

He would not face his employers’ wrath. Another job left unfinished would cost him his head, he knew it. To survive, he hunted and forged, only moving into the outskirts of the market when he truly needed to buy something—like healing herbs for when he cut open his arm on a low hanging branch, or new boots after his toe caught on a sharp stone and tore the sole clean off.

Perhaps it was his need to survive and not be noticed, but it took Pero weeks to realize that the kingdom was in a tizzy.

The King had nearly been murdered as the masque and his second son was implicated in the plot. A band of foreign nobles had been arrested and their heads now sat on spikes outside the castle.

But that was not all.

Apparently, the princess had been scouring the kingdom looking for the man she had danced with at the masque—who had left behind a very peculiar short sword; its handle seeming to fit only one man’s hand.

It felt silly to let himself hope.

Could he? Should he let her find him? The curse still loomed. He would not subject her to the danger that seemed to follow him. He could not-

“There you are.”

Apparently he had been ruminating too long and had not noticed the small band of people approaching him at the edge of the market. The princess—and he was loathed to admit that he had momentarily let himself refer to her as His Princess—was standing in front of him with her familiar, beautiful smile on her lips and his sword in her hand. She turned it over, holding the hilt toward him as he hastily bowed.

“This is yours, yes?”

He nodded and reached out for it, feeling the familiar hand fit into his hand like it had for decades. But soon a gentle warmth bloomed up his hand until he could feel it burrowing in his chest. Something had changed.

When the king learned of Tovar’s true identity, he was able to grant his daughter’s wish of allowing their betrothal. A son of duke of a wealthy kingdom was a worthy match—and the king liked to make his daughter smile, too, even if it was at the side of a foreign duke who came into palace looking slovenly.

But Pero was still nervous. Even if he no longer tripped on stairs, bricks did not fall and nearly crush his skull, animals did not dart in front of his feet. He wanted to be sure—after all, he had not delivered a heart to the woods witch.

But, on the eve of their wedding, as Pero paced in his ornate and comfortable bedchamber, a sudden blast of cold air had him turning. In front of him stood a familiar woman. Her robes were still tattered but she was…glowing. Near ethereal. The woods witch had come again.

“I could feel your worries from leagues away, little duke.” Her smile was all teeth and he knew to keep quiet. “While I would have preferred the actual heart of that beautiful princess, the curse has been lifted. That little glass sword led her heart to you. You are free. I promise you that.”

“I am sorry,” Pero said, feeling the words rush out as he looked at her. “I am so sorry, my lady.”

“I know,” she hummed before she glanced around the room. “She will like Spain more, little duke. I promise you that.”

Before Pero could ask for specifics, the witch was gone in another gust of cold wind.

Pero watched his wife’s smile grow broader and broader as their carriage drew closer to his castle.

The sun was shining. The air was sweet with the scent of springtime flowers and green grasses. It was filled with the colors he had promised her that night in the garden.

His family greeted them warmly and his sweet mother and sister cried in joy at finally having him back home while his father did look quiet near tears, too. Pero just watched it all with a smile on his face, so large and persistent it hurt his face.

“It is beautiful here,” she whispered to him that night in their bedchamber. “But, of course, I would expect nothing more from the land who gave me you.”

Pero kissed her, smiling against her mouth.

His glass sword was forgotten on their bedside table.

He had all he needed, all the good luck in the world, right here in his arms.

And they lived happily ever after.

The end.

A/N: please let me know what you think!

#pero tovar x reader #pero tovar imagine #the great wall #pero tovar

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yuusa · 4 years

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𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟑

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒𝟕𝟑𝟖

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟑

You slurped on the small carton of strawberry milk you had recently bought from the vending machine, your back was against the tree as you stared up at the sky. Some of the leaves were brushing against the wind and falling towards the grassy floor.

You knew that Tohru had invited you to sit with her during lunch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forcefully put yourself into her life after one dinner meeting. The family was odd. They seemed dysfunctional yet connected in some way, you questioned the reasoning behind your thoughts. It didn’t seem like Tohru or Yuki lived with their parents, and you highly doubt Shigure is one either. You gnawed at the tip of the straw, Tohru looked like she was the only one keeping them together.

You were a bit envious. She seemed so happy and carefree, almost as if her problems were solved by simply being nice to others. You couldn’t understand her. Perhaps she didn’t want to bring up her own problems so she could stay happy. You tapped your pen against the paper as you heard the sound of your straw sucking up nothing but small droplets at the bottom of the carton.

“The eagle would think that if they tried their hardest to convince God, they could unite the other zodiacs,“ you bit your tongue at the memory. What a joke.

“Why are you looking at me with those eyes. . . You. . .” She gripped onto your hair tightly as she brought you up to her face, “Who the hell do you think you are? I hate the look in your eyes.”

“Bring my daughter back to me!” She screamed.

You wondered if it was possible to rid yourself of those memories. It seemed like so long ago that you left the household and chased after a part-time job. You were lucky to have attended the middle school of Kaibara in order to transfer into the high school section.

You dropped the carton onto your side and pushed your knees towards your chest. You wanted to know what your family is doing at this moment, would they still be mad at you? Was it worth finding them again? Did they want you now? You leaned your forehead against your knees, your face covered by your body as you clutched your hair, your sharp nails digging into your scalp.

“My poor wife, she’s been suffering every since that spirit came to the house after the death of our daughter.” He pulled at parts of his hair as he spoke with the businessman, “we had to lock up that room because it was haunted. My wife still opens it once in a while to pray though.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. . . Have you contacted a shaman to take care of the spirit?”

“Not yet, my wife is insisting that God can take care of the spirit. The first week she wouldn’t stop crying, I feel bad for her, I’ve been trying to comfort her every single night but she keeps wailing.”

You pressed your nails against the wooden door, your teeth gritting in annoyance and frustration. Your throat was coarse and you were in desperate need of water. You breathed heavily before sliding down the door and falling to the ground.

Why are you talking about me when I’m right here?

Why are you lying to him? Father?

You gasped as you snapped back into reality. You gripped your chest tightly as you tried to stabilize your breathing. Underneath your nails were smears of blood while you quickly packed your things. You lifted your hand to see the wretched color staining your hands. Your breathing becomes heavy again and your stomach clenches itself.

“Damn it!” You punched the tree roughly, the coarse bark ripping the outer layer of your skin. The pain sparked a sense of adrenaline, while the feeling of disgust was still coursing through your body. You huffed before quickly leaving to attend your next class.

“I hate their voices.” You mumbled, kicking a medium-sized rock towards the other side of the concrete as you stared at the ground. No matter where you go to hide, memories resurface like the sick feeling in your stomach.

“Is something wrong (L/n)-san?” You halted your steps and turned around, seeing the same grey-haired friend accompanying you by your side to class. From afar you spotted the micro-banged student glaring at you but you decided to ignore her.

“Not really.”

“You were glaring at the floor pretty intensely.” You flinched before pulling your eyes away from him to focus on somewhere else but him.

“Sorry then.” You scoffed, clearly displeased as your mood has been spoiled. The two of you silently tread through the school to your next class. What luck, you had the same schedule.

Yuki eyed you quietly before speaking up.“Would you like to exchange numbers?”

The air seems a bit tense and awkward, “what for?”

“We’re friends aren’t we?”

“W-Wha? O-Oh, mhm. . .” You fumbled around in your bag and took out your cell phone. A small charm was dangling off of the side, it was a small white rat keychain with a single sakura flower. When Yuki took out his phone he had the exact same keychain.

“What a coincidence,” he smiled “we have matching keychains.” Your cheeks felt hot as you quickly unlocked your phone, “they didn’t sell any bird ones. . .”

“Hm. . . I got mine from Honda-san, I’ll be sure to find you a bird one too then.”

“Y-You don’t have to! It’s really embarrassing.” You held out your phone screen which displayed your number, “hurry and put it in already.”

He raised an eyebrow at your statement to which you quickly pulled your phone back as your cheeks felt even hotter. “I-I-I didn’t m-mean it like that! Quickly! Put my number in your phone!”

“Yes yes. . .” He sent you a text to notify you. You opened up his contact and started to fill out his name, from above you, Yuki noticed that he was the only contact in your phone. He wondered why your phone seemed so blank despite you saying you had a job, did you simply answer any calls you were given or did you not use your phone?

“Do you not have anyone else on your phone?” He asked.

You clutched your phone to your chest as you flinched, “I-Is that bad?”

“No no no, I’ll just give you Honda-san’s number too so you can talk to us anytime.”

“I-Is that fine? She wouldn’t mind right?” He shook his head.

“I’m pretty sure Honda-san would be more than happy to talk to you more.”

You turned your eyes away from him in order to type in her number. “Why are you guys being so nice to me?”

“Hmm. . .” Yuki stared at the ceiling in thought.

After he had come home that night, Tohru asked him about whether or not you had a phone to talk to her with. She seemed really insistent on gaining your friendship after you had talked to her during the after school clean up session.

She mentioned how you would silently help her during class like picking up her fallen items, which Kyo only described as being generally nice, but Tohru seemed to have other thoughts. Yuki didn’t know whether or not Tohru saw something within you which sparked her interest in you, but part of the reason why he wanted your phone number was to talk to you outside of school without having Akito finding out about other people coming into the Sohma family’s home.

“She was happy to have another friend.” You parted your lips to say something only for them to close momentarily.

“I-I see. . . Thank you then.” You typed in her number and also changed her contact.

“Now you have two people in your contact.” He smiled. “Are you feeling better?”

You realized that the whole reason for him asking you about your phone was to distract you from your sour mood. He continued to smile at you, almost as if he was trying to communicate some sort of idea to you. He really was quite kind-hearted.

“Yes. . . You wanted my number to cheer me up didn’t you?”

“Mhm,” Yuki slid the door open to the classroom for you, “it seemed like you needed a distraction.”

“Oh, thank you Sohma-san.” You held your cell phone close to you before making your way to your desk.

“Ah! (Y/n)-kun!” Tohru waved at you from her desk as you hooked your bag onto the side. “How was your day?”

Perhaps there is something more underneath the surface, Yuki thought. He watched as you interacted with Tohru, slightly hesitant as you tried your best to keep the conversation going. With the way you talk to Tohru, it seemed like you were genuinely trying to make friends.

You threw your bag across the room and flopped onto your bed. You felt the poking sensation from one of the loose pens and you tossed it behind you. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you smothered your face against the soft, cool pillows. You flipped yourself over so that you laid on your back.

You felt so tired after school and your shift ended. Physical Education did a number on you when it came to running laps. After the experience you had during lunch, you needed to blow off some steam during PE. You found that it was a bad choice considering the fact you had to work at the cafe for the rest of the day. You were quite drowsy when it came to serving customers today. You made a mental note to write in your journal but for now, you will rest in bed until you regain your strength and energy.

The sound of a ding interrupted your moment of peace. You groggily picked up your phone and saw that you had two new texts from Tohru and Yuki. You swiped in order to view the full messages.

“(Y/n)-kun!! You should join us for dinner!” Tohru sent you a photo of the table full of food, you wondered how they obtained so many ingredients to cook so many dishes. Did they have a party?

“(L/n)-san, Honda-san is begging me to text you to join us for dinner, will you be coming? Our cousin came over.” You typed a response to Yuki first.

“Sorry, I’m just feeling exhausted tonight. Please Tell Tohru-kun I can try to come over the weekends.” He starts to type a response, the three dots appearing on your screen.

“That’s fine, are you doing okay after PE?” He types quite fast actually, it feels weird having someone to text with and you were glad knowing that Yuki has always tried to make some sort of conversation with you.

“Just a bit tired.”

“Just a bit? I heard you ran a bunch of laps and tripped halfway.” He sent a cute rat emoticon.

You fumbled around with your phone, “really? You remember that part? Whats with the emoticons?”

“It was funny. Honda-san uses a lot of emoticons, I thought it would be fun to try it out.

“Oh, I see. I thought you were going to eat dinner with everyone else?

“Our cousin accidentally broke the table and we’re waiting for Honda-san to come back for another dinner.” You stifled a chuckle. “We spent a lot of time cleaning up and she hasn’t come back yet. Kyo is thinking about getting take out.”

“Does Shigure-san know you’re texting someone?”

“Nope, I’m texting you behind a book.”

“You’re quite sneaky for someone who is suppose to be a good student.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Another rat emoticon. “For someone whose quite fast at running, you sure do trip a lot.”

“Shut up,” you sighed, “just a little clumsy.”

“Right,” he sent a rat emoticon with a question mark. “Are you feeling better though? You seemed down during lunch.”

“I’m fine.” You continued to tap against the screen, your eyes slowly drooping downwards in exhaustion, “you shouldn’t have to worry about me, we just met.”

“It feels as if you’re still bothered by something, but I won’t press on it too much. Since Honda-san isn’t back yet, what is your favorite animal?”

“. . . An eagle? I guess a white-tailed eagle is interesting.”

“I heard that the Crowned Eagle is strong. They’re also a bit clumsy when it comes to flying, reminds me of you.” You pressed your lips together.

“What is yours then?”

He sends another cute rat emoticon. “I think it would be a bit obvious.”

“Cute.” His texting paused for a moment after your text and you think Tohru-kun came back home. “Did Tohru-kun come home?”

“Oh, yes she just did. Our cousin is cooking again and she says it would be hamburger.”

“I see, that’s nice.” You sighed before sitting up from your bed.

“Have you eaten?”

“No, not yet.”

“I can bring you food in a bit if you would like, our cousin made extra.”

Your eyes widened before you furiously started typing, “You really don’t need to visit me you know.”

“It would be a good way to escape this chaotic family for a bit, it’s also nice to talk to you.”

“Then. . . If you don’t mind.”

From the Sohma household, Yuki smiled and hurriedly finished his meal. He was slightly pleased to know that he was able to come over to your house. Although you had recently met barely a day ago, he was curious about you. Tohru looked over at him and grinned.

“Are you going over to (Y/n)-kun’s house?”

“Yes I am, she says she didn’t have anything to eat but is tired, do you want me to give her something from you?” He responded.

She only waved her arms around to dismiss the idea, “no no, just tell her I said hi!”

“Then I will.” He packed up the food and waved the rest of the family a quick goodbye as he made his way to your apartment.

Kyo turned to the door in annoyance before scoffing, “don’t you think it’s weird he’s interacting with that other girl?”

“What do you mean Kyo-kun?” Tohru asked.

“Think about it, they just barely met and he’s coming to her house already? Sheesh.” He flipped himself onto the floor, “don’t you think it’s strange?”

Tohru stared at the closed door, her hand up to her lips as she thought about your interactions with Yuki.

She didn’t know much about you other than the fact you sat next to her in class, but there were moments when she could see the look in your eyes that she sees every day when Yuki is there with her.

Your eyes looked so sad.

When she sees you in class, you always fidget with your fingers underneath the desk, or how you would tap your pen against paper whenever you encountered a puzzling thought. When you talk to her, you sound like you’re forcing yourself to come up with a conversation. She couldn’t forget the look in your eyes when she saw you. You would tighten your fists like the way Yuki clutched his left arm, the two of you would divert your attention away and space out at times as well.

That day, when you both stayed after school, she felt something towards you. A desperate cry for some sort of love underneath the facade you held, yearning for something that was never there for you, reaching out for a distant dream in hopes of a cure.

Tohru gripped the edge of her shorts as she wonders if you had a similar past to Yuki. Your eyes looked as if you were constantly on watch and anxious, yet it held a hint of loneliness and sadness hidden behind your sharp irises.

Maybe the reason why you got along so well was because of something in the past.

“I know that, Kyo-kun.” She mumbled. “But she looks like she really wanted friends.”

“You came here quite fast.” You peered from behind the door, seeing Yuki hold up a bag of food.

“You should know that we’re both fast runners in the class.” You reached out to unlock the chain and opened the door.

“S-Sorry, my room is a bit messy right now, we can eat over here.”

He looked around the room, seeing a lack of photographs or any sort of decorations hanging on the wall. When you opened the door to the rest of your apartment, he was greeted with the scent of lavender and camellias. Interesting choice of flowers. Your bed was still quite messy despite your efforts to bring yourself to clean up, there were some books spread across the ground and he noticed the piling laundry basket in the corner of the room. You were wearing a simple white button-up and one of your favorite pants.

“My room is gross, sorry.” You apologized again, trying to stack the books onto your shelf as he sat down on the wooden floor.

“No no, my room is like this too.” He continued to admire the interior of the room, despite it being a small apartment it seemed very cozy. “Does it always smell like lavender in here?” He commented.

“O-Oh, yes. My coworker said it’s supposed to help with sleep and relaxation.” Once the books were neatly stacked you walked over to the miniature kitchen. “I only have green tea with me, will you be okay with that?”

“That would be fine, thank you for having me over.” He smiled while you turned away from him, your cheeks becoming warm as you turned on the stove with a filled kettle. You struggled with tying the back of your apron, your arms extremely sore from overworking yourself earlier. You groaned in frustration as you continued to try to tie a knot behind you while exerting yourself.

“I can get that for you.” You flinched as you felt his hands tightening the strings and pulling them together, looping them into a bow before stepping back. “Are you normally this tired after work?”

“Customers can be hard.” You huffed, pulling out a separate bowl and your wooden whisk. “They ask for a lot from us and it’s difficult when you’re just a student.” When the kettle was getting to the boiling point, you poured the water into the bowl and set your whisk inside. “It’s the only job I currently have which pays enough for rent.”

You pulled out a packet of ground matcha and sifted it into the bowl. Your fingers were delicately working at the tea while Yuki admired you from the side. As you vigorously stirred the mixture in a zig-zag motion, you looked over your shoulder to see him still smiling at you.

“W-Why are you smiling?” You poured the matcha tea into two cups and set them down onto your wooden tray.

“No, I was just impressed by your skills. Did you learn that at your workplace?”

“O-Oh, I did. I learned quite a bit from working there.” You carried the tray towards the table and set them down while Yuki sat across from you. “Is your family going to be okay with you being here?”

He shook his head, “I’m pretty sure our cat is happy knowing I’m out of the house for a while.” By cat, you assumed he meant Kyo.

“I see, do you dislike him?” You awkwardly avoided using his last name considering the fact that he and Kyo came from the same family, and you weren’t quite ready to even say his first name.

“Dislike is far, it’s more like I hate him.” He brought up the cup to his lips and took a small sip, “everything he does makes me angry.”

You unwrapped the food and admired the careful packeting of it before digging in with your chopsticks, “is there a reason why you hate him?”

He set the cup down, “hmm. . . It runs quite deep.” He peered down at the small air bubbles which sat at the top of the tea. “You could say that I’m a bit envious of him.”

“It must be hard constantly comparing yourself with him then.” You bluntly said, cutting a piece of the hamburger and chewing on it, “but, don’t you have good qualities as well?”

“Well, it’s hard to say.”

You hummed. “You’re kind and mature Sohma-san,” you picked up your own cup and brought it to your lips to drink, “I don’t think anyone would simply come over to your house and give you food.”

“Other than Honda-san of course.” You giggled slightly but coughed to drive his attention away from the sound. He continued to drink his tea while you ate.

You silently eyed him, realizing now that he had long eyelashes. You could see how some could mistake him for the wrong gender, but you wondered how a boy such as him is blessed with so many great qualities. You stopped chewing, instead, biting on your inner cheek when you realized how attractive he was. Even his eyes were much prettier than yours. They were the right shade of grey and they held kindness and innocence within them.

You frowned as you thought about your own reflection. Your heart sinks to the ground as you felt yourself wanting to leave this place. The cold air of your room sunk into your bones as the chills ran down your spine.

“I hate the look in your eyes.” She sneered.

Yuki quickly set his cup down and reached over to you, “are you okay? You’ve gone pale.”

You instinctively retreated back slightly, your eyes widening as you stared at him. His hand twitched before he pulled himself back. His eyes reflected your own while you cowered in fear. You could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form on your neck as you adjusted yourself.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You peered up at the clock on the wall, “it’s getting late. You should start going home.”

There was an awkward pause of silence growing between the two of you.

“Sorry, if I offended you.” Yuki pulled himself off of the floor. You bit your lip as you watched him pack his own things to leave, feeling guilty for your own actions. As he was beginning to turn towards the door, you quickly stood up and grabbed onto his wrist.

“A-Ah, umm. . .” He stared at you while you struggled to form coherent words, “I-It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean to drive you away, I-It’s fine if you want to stay a little longer if you want to though.” You mumbled.

You looked up at him with your (e/c) eyes, “I’m sorry.”

He reached out to pat the top of your head, “then, I’ll stay for a bit longer. Let me call Shigure-san about this.” He excused himself from the room and went out to the hall to phone Shigure.

You breathed out a sigh of relief before cleaning up the table and going to wash the empty cups. As you scrubbed the surface with soap and water, you wondered if you had driven him away from you. Your heart felt heavy seeing his hurt expression pull away from you.

You knew all along that you weren’t the best at making friends.

This encounter was starting to make you feel paranoid, your hands starting to freeze up while the burning sensation of the water unfazed you. You were starting to worry that Yuki might not want to be your friend anymore after this. The way he stared back at you with those hurt eyes made you want to crawl into your nest and bury yourself into it. You blinked away the small formations of tears at the corner of your eyes.

You winced when you realized you have been running your hand under boiling hot water for too long, the skin turning a bright red color. You gasped when you stared down at your hands, your stomach feeling sick as your body began to tremble, your eyes focusing on the darkening color.

Her nails dug into the surface of your hand as you began to feel your skin split, the crimson liquid oozing from your skin. You tried to grab onto her hand to pull her away with the little strength you had. You could feel yourself being roughly thrown back into the room, the thick fluid smearing onto the cold floor as the door slammed shut.

You tightly shut your eyes as you blindly ran past Yuki towards the bathroom. His worried glances followed your figure as you made your escape.

“(L/n)-san, are you okay?” You fumbled with the cabinet trying to unlock it but to no prevail, your breathing became heavy as your body almost collapsed onto the ground. Your hand couldn’t find the lock at all and you were starting to feel woozy.

You felt the feeling of his hand grasping onto your shoulder gently, “(L/n)-san, you burned your hand, is your medical kit in here?” He gently knocked on the material and you nodded in response, your eyes still closed as you tried to calm your breathing.

You should hear him unlock the cabinet, his hand reaching out to pull on the medical tape and wrap the material around your fingers as you breathed a sigh of relief. Although it was dark, you felt comfortable at the moment. Your fingers twitched as he carefully wrapped it around your hand.

“Did you burn yourself while I was gone?” You frowned as you nodded again. You felt him rip the end of the tape with his nails before tapping on the back of your hand.

“You can open your eyes now (L/n)-san.” You cracked open one of your eyes and saw the slightly clumsy wrapping made by Yuki. Slowly, you brought your hands to your chest, feeling your heartbeat beginning to calm down.

“I’m sorry for troubling you tonight Sohma-san.” You said.

He only responded with his gentler voices, “you don’t need to apologize. Are you scared of something?” He asked.

“The color. . . Red.” You whispered, almost inaudible as Yuki had to take time to process your response.

“Does closing your eyes help you?” You mumbled a short yes.

You thought he would judge you based on this childish fear, but he seemed to stare at you with those kind grey eyes of his. It seemed unrealistic to have someone as caring as he was. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to see if you were simply dreaming.

“Would you like to go back to your room? I can stay for a bit longer here.” You gave him a short nod and he held onto your hands, careful not to apply pressure onto the surface as he guided you back into your room.

“Do you need help with that?” He pointed at your still tied apron.

“No, I’ll try to do it myself, I’ve troubled you enough.” You tried to reach the knot but with every single movement from your joints sparked a burning sensation. You hissed at it but Yuki grabbed onto your hand and pulled it away.

“It’s okay to ask for help (L/n)-san.” He tugged onto the end of the knot and slowly pulled off your apron before you could even protest.

“Don’t you feel bothered?” You mumbled. “I’m causing you so much trouble and it's a hassle to do these things don’t you think? We barely know each other and here you are at my house.”

“Not really.” He started to fold the material, “it’s not really a problem at all.”

“You don’t seem to want to ask for help either, Sohma-san.” He grew silent before he guided you towards your bed, forcing you to sit down on the sheets as he stood over you.

He brushed the side of his hair back, his eyes avoiding yours. “Did you know all this time?”

You reached out to his hands with your bandaged ones, pulling on them as you leaned forward, feeling the cold sensation on top of your forehead as you closed your eyes. Yuki could feel the heat trailing to his cheeks as he felt you brush yourself against his hand.

“We’re similar, Sohma-san.” You could only hear the small audible hum coming from above.

#fruits basket #fruits basket x reader #x reader #yuki sohma #yuki sohma x reader #yuki soma #yuki soma x reader

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