Tohru has accepted Kyo's "original form" and all seems well at the home of Shigure Sohma, until Kyo comes across a rather disturbing realization. Based from the anime and manga. Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket nor am I using it for gain. Previously published on fanfiction.net

He never knew life could be this way, but truly if he did, he wouldn't have cared. He cared about nothing, not even himself until her. Before her, he was empty/ Before her he knew nothing of joy or completion, and this is his journey to his life After her.

It's hard to know what to do when your faced with something that disappeared from you life ten years ago. I don't know what happened to us, we were like fire, a passionate flame that had burst forth from the embers of our hearts and yet somehow he had just been able to leave, like it hadn't happened. It's ten years in the future and I moved on, I'm...happy right? What am I supposed to do with him? And even if I did choose him...I know there is no fairy tale guarantee with that prospect.

This is the story of a revolution. Happy endings in the real world are more of a fairy tale then the wives tales told around campfires. People don't live long enough to find the felicity that this world can bring when all around there is death and destruction. However, lights can be lit and hope can be instilled no matter how desolate the situation may seem. A raised fist can cause a population to follow in the footsteps of a great man in hopes of being lead to some paradise. This haven can only be won through the blood and woes of war, one with a story forged in the vermillion gore. When love is caught up in the midst of an uprising such as this, there comes a choice. The choice is obvious but... There is no path but to win...even if it means losing everything you hold dear to you.

We all have a story to tell, a closet full of skeletons that beckon us with devilish claws. They taunt and terrorize those who are helpless to overcome them, who do not have the strength to fight against it. Hell, I'm one of those people. I let the past get to me, drag me into an oblivion of loneliness and distance from other humans. I may not seem like it; in fact, I'm probably the friendliest person you'll ever meet, but try to get close and I'll only push you away. That is...until I met him. The man who was just as messed up as me inside, who I suddenly became desperate to be near even if his presence was a toxicity. Somehow, he seemed to feel the same. But I knew that it had to end at some point. If I let you in, you'd just want out. If I tell you the truth, you'd fight for a lie. If I spilt my guts, it would make a mess we can't clean up. If you follow me, you will only get lost. If you try to get closer, we'll only lose touch. But you already know too much, and you're not going anywhere.