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Akito sat with her back pressed against the door. The sounds of fervent scuttling by sock-footed maids came through the walls in waves. Akito felt the irritation exasperate her already throbbing headache.
“Is Akito-sama alright?”
“I believe the head is feeling very fitful today.”
“Should we do something?”
“I would rather not disturb her…”
Akito gave a harsh click of her tongue.
They’re frightened of me enough to prance around like scared mice, but not so much to keep their shrill voices to themselves.
Another knock came, startling Akito and caused her to jostle the paper door. The sound of it elicited a small, frightened noise from the young maid on the other side. Akito felt her temperament thin all the more. Even so, she noted bitterly to herself, it’s not as if her voice was rising. It’s not as if she was throwing anything.
“What?” Akito croaked out.
“Akito-sama…” The maid started. “Hatori-sama is wondering when you might be ready to depart.”
Akito looked to the mess at her feet. Clothes and fabrics cluttered on the floor like puddles left in sunken sand from a high tide. She gave a harsh sigh, but the rise and fall of her chest was the only movement her body would allow.
“I don’t want to go anymore,” Akito said. “Tell him I’m not coming.”
The maid shuffled outside the door. “Hatori-sama was quite insistent…”
“Hatori isn’t head of the household.” Akito stopped herself from raising her voice. “I’m not going.”
Another hesitant second. “Akito-sama…”
“How many times do I need to repeat myself? Leave me alone!”
Akito heard the maid shuffle away immediately. Whispers would follow this exchange, surely. The violence of Akito’s reputation would grow, too. The anger and rage and hateful nature of her character would expand.
Who cared? It didn’t matter anymore.
She didn’t want to go. How many times was she supposed to repeat herself?
Akito was wrapped in a loose, masculine yukata. It was only barely keeping grip on her shoulders, and the loose knot threatened to come undone at any moment, but Akito didn’t make any move to pull the clothes tighter around her lithe frame.
She rested her head against the door and sighed again. The strange thought of I want to go home entered her mind, which was ridiculous because she was home. She was tucked away inside the walls of the main house. Nestled in the inner most quarters where she’d lived out most of her life.
Another soft knock came at the door, and a growl bloomed out of Akito’s throat.
“I said go away!” She snapped, banging her fist against the door for good measure. Only this time, the frightened footsteps of scattering maids didn’t follow.
“Akito…?” The gentle, familiar voice sunk into Akito’s gut like a stone. “It’s me… Can I come in?”
“Tohru?” The surge of her presence caused Akito to stand immediately, flushing embarrassment flowed hot under her skin as she tightened her yukata in a tight, improper knot around her waist.
“What are you doing here? Go away!” But because she immediately regretted the command, and because Tohru had been so patient with her in these past years already, she added: “Please.”
Tohru didn’t budge from outside the door.
“Shigure called me,” Tohru said, softly. “He said you might need my help.”
Akito’s hands curled into fists. Meddling bastard.
How was it that Shigure already knew the state of Akito’s mood? How was it that news traveled this quickly around the mansion? Akito lived the majority of her life in the private pockets of a secret curse, and it felt like now more than ever that that had been ripped away from her.
“I don’t need any help,” Akito said through the shoji doors.
“Okay,” Tohru said, unsurely. And for a moment, Akito was truly terrified that she’d leave. “Could I visit with you anyway?”
Akito let out a long contemplating breath. As she opened the door, she wondered when she had become so weak.
Somehow, as always, Tohru looked incomprehensibly soft.
From the shiny brown hair that stopped just above her shoulders, to the creamy pallor of her hands, and even expanding to the sweater dress that looked fluffy and feminine. There wasn’t a hard edge to her. She seemed so unobtainable in that way. One of many.
“Come in if you have to,” Akito mumbled. Tohru smiled and stepped inside the room, taking in the state of it.
“Is… everything alright?” Tohru asked, eyebrows creasing when she looked Akito up and down. “Aren’t you cold?”
Akito reflexively wrapped the yukata tighter around her. “I’m fine.”
Tohru turned back to the room, before giving Akito a comforting smile. “Your clothes are so nice, they’ll wrinkle.”
Tohru made quick work of picking up each piece of clothing on the floor, carefully draping it over her arm as she went. Akito held out a hand to stop her.
“It’s alright, a maid can deal with that.”
“You shouldn’t leave everything to them. …And you said you wouldn’t talk to them like that anymore,” Tohru lightly admonished, but her expression was sympathetic and imploring.
“They were annoying me,” Akito said. Then grumbled, “I’ll apologize later.”
Tohru smiled and returned to her task of picking up piece after piece of clothing on the floor until the tatami was visible again. Akito watched lamely from the edge of the room while Tohru carefully draped the collection on the back of an ornate chair. Before long, she was making work of folding them, too.
Akito stepped forward, placing a hand over Tohru’s wrist to stop her. Tohru turned to look at her, and their eyes met in a tender waltz. As they always seemed to do now. But Akito thought nothing of it. That was probably just how Tohru looked at everyone. Kind people were hard to come by in this world. Akito would be a fool to confuse the natural habits of good people with direct affection.
“Stop it,” Akito insisted. “Unless you came here just to mother me.”
“No,” Tohru said, still looking straight at Akito. “I came because I heard something was wrong.”
“Shigure doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Then I’m happy to see you anyway.” Tohru smiled. She placed a hand over Akito’s that was still lightly gripped around Tohru’s wrist, and pushed the contact away.
Akito rolled her eyes but sighed.
“It’s not a big deal. It’s stupid.”
Tohru stayed quiet, but looked to Akito to signify she was listening as she finished folding a pair of dress pants. Tohru must have long since learned that Akito did better with distance and patience (endless, endless patience) than with the insistent, intense questioning that Tohru first bulldozed her with at the beginning of their unlikely friendship.
“There’s a dinner today with all the Sohma heads. We’re talking about business decisions for the New Year. There’s been a lot of changes in the past couple of years, and other board members have been breathing down my neck to ask how I’ll maintain the future of our family.” Akito sighed. “Obviously, I’m expected to be there.”
Tohru nodded. “It sounds really important. It’s no wonder you would be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” Akito lied. Tohru turned to look at her again. That familiar patience staining her feminine face. Akito looked away. She admired those features so much it sometimes hurt.
“Akito?”
“I don’t know what to wear.”
Tohru looked down at the clothes draped over the chair.
“I told you it was stupid,” Akito said, when Tohru spent a moment too long assessing the room.
“No! It’s not! That’s very normal! When I came to Sohma House for the first time I was so nervous about to wear, I didn’t sleep at all! I mean, I was also nervous about meeting Hatori, or anyone from such a prestigious family! Ah—but, that’s okay! We can figure it out together!”
Tohru immediately went to rummaging through the pile, frantically undoing the folding she had just meticulous taken to. Akito couldn’t help but watch in a constant, nagging awe. The same feeling that filled her chest when she went to visit Tohru in the hospital had only evolved from that day.
Akito smiled at the frantic display—something small and private. Something she hadn’t learned to share with others quite yet. Something she wished she could give as easily as Tohru one day. But for now, she let the slightly longer locks of her own hair fall over her face in an attempt to hide her gratefulness.
“It’s not that simple,” Akito finally said, forcing her voice into something soft and gentle. “The board members haven’t seen me since… since I…” Akito motioned to herself. “I’ve done my best to stay out of sight.”
“They don’t know you’re a woman?” Tohru asked.
“They do,” Akito said. “But women’s clothing…” the sentence died on her tongue.
It won’t look like it would on you.
“I think you look beautiful in women’s clothing,” Tohru said softly.
It felt like a lie, even though Akito knew Tohru never lied.
If there was one thing she absolutely loathed about all of this, was being able to see the reasoning of that woman. The woman who told her no one would treat her seriously as a woman. The woman that told her that only a man could control and command the zodiac. That only a man could be head of this family.
The only woman Akito could see fearlessly standing before all of them was Tohru.
But Akito wasn’t anywhere close to capturing the grace and effeminate traits of Tohru. She was nowhere close to harnessing the steadfast confidence that Tohru didn’t even seem to notice in herself. It showed whenever Akito wore more feminine clothes. They looked awkward and bunched on her. As if they knew she was only poorly imitating something unreachable.
It felt humiliating.
“I’m no woman,” Akito spat, feeling her chest ache. Tohru only looked at her sympathetically. “I can’t be in front of them.”
“…Do you have any men’s clothing? If you’re not comfortable dressing as a woman—”
“No!” Akito said just as fiercely—or maybe it was desperately. Akito was facing the floor, fists clenched like a child, panic rising at having to fall into this endless torturous decision over what felt like nothing. How was she supposed to speak with confidence about all the changes she had brought to this family when she couldn’t even decide what clothes to put on her back?
The anxious swell in her brain was abruptly cut short when she felt a hand on her cheek.
Tohru was close, eyes soft and empathetic. Her careful, considerate nature was bursting from each of her fingers that was seeping into the cold skin of Akito’s cheek.
Akito felt her angry expression crinkle into nothing as she looked back at Tohru. “I don’t like that man. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
“You’re not,” Tohru assured, voice hushed to match Akito’s fragility. “You’re not. You’re someone very, very kind. You’ve fought to be that way.”
“That’s not how they’ll see it.” Akito pushed Tohru’s hand away. “And I don’t blame them! Women… Women… You can’t trust them! They’re cruel and manipulative. They cheat to get whatever they want!” Akito turned away from Tohru to look at herself in the mirror. She glared at the figure there—robes dripping down her frame, frame lithe and unthreatening. She hated it. She hated this. She hated herself. “And what’s worse, they’re dishonest about their own feelings. Everything rots inside them like an untreated disease.”
That’s right, she was no woman.
Because how long had she been in love with Tohru now?
Too long.
What a silly, horrible thing to do to someone—to force her love onto someone. To allow them into her slowly crumbling world and feed off their energy, time, compassion.
Akito could look back on her past as if some stranger was controlling her body all she wanted. She could pretend the cruelty she brought to the family and to the zodiac was imposed on her by some male puppeteer.
But she knew that wasn’t true.
She acted in a way she was completely capable of. She played the part of a man with two-heads, with the one beating heart of a woman. She was no different from her mother. She was no different than the maids who raised her.
Because this must be how women were.
And what did that make Tohru? An alien? An amalgamation? An exception? She didn’t know. She wanted to be that, though.
She wanted to be that exception.
“I’m sorry!” Tohru near-shouted, bowing deeply at the waist, and surprising Akito into turning around to face her with surprise.
“Sorry…?”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel as though you were being manipulated by me! I promise, I never expected anything more from you!”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Akito asked, taken completely off-guard by Tohru’s sudden fervor.
When Tohru straightened herself, her eyes were watery, but her expression was tough as stone. She looked stronger than Akito ever did as a power-hungry man.
“I like you very, very much! I mean that in every sense! Including ro—romantically!” Tohru started. “I didn’t mean to hide my true feelings for you, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you! I promise, I didn’t become your friend expecting more!”
“You what?!”
“Please don’t let me become a poor example! I swear to you that so many women are beautiful, kind, passionate, loving people! Just like you!” Tohru said, frantically, making heat rise to Akito’s face. “B-But I can see I’ve imposed too much and I should—”
“Stop rambling! I wasn’t talking about you!” Akito shouted at Tohru, just as flustered. “Who would ever use any of those words to describe you?!”
“B-But—!”
“I was talking about me, you idiot!”
“I thought… you might have figured out my feelings! Or—or because you said you weren’t a woman!”
“I don’t know what I am!” Akito let out a frustrated groan.
“Oh my gosh.” Tohru blanched. She used her hands to cover her paling face. “Then what I just said—”
Awkward silence fell in the room, Akito felt her heart racing as the two stood in her room—clothing still scattered at their feet as they stood stock still. The silence was enough for Akito to properly process the conversation.
What did she just say?
Akito peered up, taking in Tohru. who was now completely covering her face with her hands. She let out a slight whine in embarrassment. Akito couldn’t help but smile again.
“Did you… Do you mean that?”
Tohru looked up from her hands, face bright red but eyes just as fierce as when she first began. “Yes!”
Akito was the one who flushed this time.
She approached Tohru slowly, reaching a hand out hesitantly to run through Tohru’s hair. Tohru squeezed her eyes closed at the contact, but leaned into the touch. Akito sighed.
“I’m sorry,” Akito said. “I like you, too. Very much.”
Akito went to retract her hand, but Tohru urgently wrapped her hand around Akito’s wrist, making sure her fingers stayed tangled in her hair. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I feel like I tricked you,” Akito said. “There’s nothing to like about me.”
Tohru’s face turned serious, and Akito felt as though Tohru might scold her. “Do you really believe all those things about yourself?”
“Anyone truly kind wouldn’t be capable of the things I’ve done in the first place.”
“Anyone truly cruel wouldn’t be trying this hard to change!” Tohru glared at Akito. “Man or woman.”
Akito felt her chest ache again, that painfully pleasant feeling that made it feel as though she might burst. As if something was trying to emerge in her. As if she was shedding a weighty skin off her shoulders. Akito’s fingers continued to comb through Tohru’s hair gently. When their eyes met again it was heated and expectant.
Akito felt herself leaning in just as Tohru did and—
Knock knock.
“Akito-sama? I’m sorry to disturb you again, but Hatori-sama is insisting on your attendance at the meeting…”
“Akito-san will be out in just a moment!” Tohru called politely through the door. “Please tell Hatori-san that I’m sorry for being such a distraction.”
The maid confirmed as much and retreated from the door. Akito realized her hand was still in Tohru’s hair when she looked back to her and this time was successful in pulling her hand free.
“I think distraction is the perfect word.” Akito sighed. Tohru gave an embarrassed smile and looked away back the clothes.
“I said I wanted to help, and I will!”
Akito watched again, this time with a racing heart, as Tohru sorted through the clothes one by one. Somewhat lamely, Akito accepted each article of clothing that Tohru draped over her arm after she had thoroughly assessed it, nodding to herself in approval.
“Try this. If you don’t like it, we can start again,” Tohru finally said, placing a gentle hand over Akito’s arm where the clothes hung.
Akito nodded, face still somewhat red, before retreating behind the changing panel in the room. Finally there, she undid the tie on her yukata, letting it fall to the floor. Naked in a body she was still getting to know, she dressed herself.
“Akito…?”
“Hm?” Akito slid the pants up her legs and buttoned them closed.
Akito could hear Tohru shift from the other side of the panel.
“There was a time that I did think you were someone cruel. I was afraid of you for a very long time,” she said. Akito stopped, mid-button of her shirt and hung her head, a heavy weight sliding through her body.
“Most people were,” Akito said.
“But I want you to know that I understand now! I’ve never loved something as much as you loved the zodiac. And even now… Shigure told me how you’ve been running the family and the decisions you’ve made… it’s clear that you still love everyone very, very much. And I know you’re trying to make your love become something beautiful. And it is. It’s so beautiful. I caught myself wondering if I might ever love something that beautifully, myself.”
Akito slid on a dress jacket as she listened, standing on the other side of the panel as she listened to Tohru speak. The words were hard to take in. Everything was hard to take in. In these past couple years, Akito felt as though she could only feel two emotions: self-loathing and regret.
And, maybe, when Tohru was around, hope.
“My mom did a lot of terrible things when she was younger, too. She told me some, and others I got the impression were too painful to talk about. But she fought with all her heart to be a good person. She said she wasn’t born that way, that very few people are born kind. It’s something we have to choose for ourselves as we grow up. The more we reject that decision, the harder it is to be kind when we’re older. I didn’t really understand that until I got to know you.”
Akito felt her eyes well from where she stood, quickly using the back of her hand to rub the tears away.
“Please let me get to know you more,” Tohru quietly finished.
Akito took in a deep, stabilizing breath before she stepped out from behind the panel. Tohru looked up at her from where she sat on her knees on the other side. She smiled up at Akito as if she hadn’t said anything at all.
“You look wonderful!”
Akito looked away, somewhat shyly. Tohru had chosen a good balance for her. Dress pants that fit her well, but didn’t attempt to accentuate any curves she had. The blouse was loose and off-white with feminine ruffles, but its subtly was all the more accentuated by the professional dress jacket.
Akito looked in the mirror, relieved when she found it didn’t spike her anxiety all over again.
“Do you wear make-up?” Tohru asked.
“Sometimes,” Akito mumbled.
“May I?” She asked. Akito nodded and sat at her vanity. Tohru stood behind her, gently running her fingers through Akito’s hair and tying it back. Akito took in a deep breath at the sensation.
“I thought I would finally be a proper woman when I was like you,” Akito quietly admitted.
“Oh, I’m not very proper!” Tohru said, immediately. “Most of my tights have holes in them. And I’ve been told I can be very blunt! And I still don’t know how to act in fancy places,” she bemoaned.
“And you can be very loud,” Akito said, with a small smirk. “That’s hardly ladylike.”
“Kyo-kun said the same thing to me,” Tohru complained. “Yuki-kun said it’s because we spend too much time together.”
Akito’s smile maintained, small as it was, until Tohru was kneeling beside her. She grabbed a tube of nude lipstick from the vanity and carefully placed a hand on Akito’s cheek to stabilize herself. Akito swallowed but pursed her lips slightly as Tohru spread the color on her lips.
Akito watched as she did, how Tohru’s concentration was unwavering even as her cheeks maintained a soft pink at their proximity. Tohru finally looked up and pressed her lips together to signal Akito should do the same.
She did, looking in the mirror again. Akito’s hair was combed back into a low ponytail, hiding the length and framing her more masculine features. The lipstick was a soft pinkish brown, almost the color of her own lips. Combined with her bare eyes and face, it was the touch of femininity that kept her face from looking too familiar to her past self.
“Is this okay?” Tohru asked. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do anything too complicated. Hana-chan and Uo-chan always said I still have a lot to learn past the basics.”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you.”
Tohru smiled. “Please allow me to help you again, if you need it.”
Akito stared at herself for a long moment. She still wasn’t sure who she was, she still wasn’t sure what was looking back at her in the mirror. But perhaps, day by day, she was learning a little more about who she wanted to be.
“Tohru,” Akito said, turning towards her. They were just as close as when Tohru was applying her lipstick. “I’m nervous.”
Tohru stared back at her, eyes creasing into worry.
“Will you help me?” Akito asked.
When Tohru nodded, Akito simply placed a hand on Tohru’s shoulder and led her forward.
Akito’s lips met Tohru’s, and the other girl kissed back immediately. Akito’s chest swelled again as Tohru placed a gentle hand on Akito’s neck allowing tentative lips to dance against hers. The kiss was soft, curious, reassuring, and burned at its edges with a passion neither were too certain they could express yet.
When Akito leaned back, Tohru was bright red but smiling through her lack of breath.
Akito brought her thumb to Tohru’s lip with a smile. “This color looks good on you, too.”
Tohru’s face immediately fell. “Your lipstick! I’m so sorry, I’ll do it again! You’re going to be late!”
“I’m already late. Hatori is probably going to yell at me when I get there,” Akito huffed.
“Let me do it again real quick—” She was cut off by Akito’s hand on hers.
“One more. Or I’m afraid I’ll ruin it again.”
Tohru flushed even harder. “Oh. Okay!”
Akito felt Tohru’s smile against her lips and sighed.
Man or woman—she would figure all that out later. For now, Tohru still felt like that beautiful exception. It was nice to know that maybe one day, Akito could be that for Tohru, too.