Envelop(m)e ~reader insert, GIRLS ONLY~ Fruit Basket Fanfic PART3

This is chapter three of a Fruitsbasket fanfiction. (Fruits Basket is an anime);1

It does NOT matter whether or not your familiar with the anime, but since there may or may not be romance, you'll want to be a girl if your reading this.2

storywrite.com/Story/1446440 Chapter One3

storywrite.com/Story/1448354 Chapter Two4

3. Hallow Insight     5

***~~~Last Time~~~***6

Hair washed and skin cleaned of the dried blood, you changed into a crisp clean pair of clothes and stepped outdoors with the idiotic idea that you might be able to enjoy the clear summer day like any other person would.7

But oh, you were so wrong; 8

...Because tucked partially beneath the welcome mat of your door... 9

Was another white envelope. 10

...11

..12

.13

***~~~This Time~~~*** 14

What might have been considered a laugh escaped your lungs, like an eflated bagpipe that had been stepped on; you squeaked out in alarm, then blinked, a now familiar anxiety filling your conscious awareness, colorful behind widened, now jaded eyes.15

You sucked in a breath through your mouth, exhaling through your nose, and thought long and hard as you stared at the familiar paper with the meanings behind it only you could unlock with merely a glance of familiarity. 16

‘I can have a choice this time’ this hit you like a massive truck, and you bite your lip hard, letting ketchup-like currents of blod slie wetly down your chin, drip-dripping onto your front; you were a little surprised at the fresh ideal in your mind. How unlike you... to walk away from something you knew full well would end you if you did. 17

You didn’t... care?18

Did you? Did you care or didn’t you? 19

Now this you couldn’t answer without a nagging uncertainty to screw around with your head, and you sensed there was no safe answer to the question, each singular answer meant an end by some means, and 'neither' was not an option.20

‘I will not answer.’ 21

You nod slightly to yourself at this. Don't answer. This was the safest way to go and you knew this full well, you can easily just pretend the problem isn’t there, and eventually it will give up– up and leave, in correlation with your troubled mind long gone.22

Taking in another breath, you rip your gaze from the paper on the porch; your back stiffens slightly at this, though you choose to ignore it, letting a faint but trained smile touch your lips.23

Your heavy footsteps guide you away from your lonely mansion and into what you’d always referred as ‘The Real World’; a troubling place, but no less than your own and a decent change to the deteriorated life more dreamlike then real you came to expect 'Here'.24

Or maybe it was just a mind set to protect yourself from truths and untruths you yourself wove with bleeding fingertips; staining the threads crimson, you felt yourself steeped into a terrible sort of fascination and would stare hours on end into the distance, as if marvelling at the beauty of a view no one else but you could appreciate.25

‘Kill Sohma Akito’?26

‘No...’27

Not anymore, though the urge, then need; to kill the name in itself was a reaction you could not kill. The man was... evl, even by your standards, which were quite lenient with murders and rapes alike. But this man... he may not have squashed a fly;28

It didn't matter, he still needed to be aquainted with the harsh judgement found only in death, you felt with certainty that he deserved no less than you did, and an Eternity was something you promised yourself you were not to look forward to.29

Though accept quietly docile, deserving of damnation and knowing full well; you'd lay in your death bed, peacable, at this idealism; self-assured you'd get yours and the guilt could go away on some level.30

Closed to many levels of emotions, you let the mind numbing 'religion' of sorts get you by, though...31

Inwardly;32

your dark soul wilted slightly, but you neglected to realize this purposefully, still intent on protecting yourself from your own mind and heart set on self-destruction. What part of you acted was where the uncertainty weathered, but you didn’t mind this, too troubled as It was to bother to lather on another work to ponder.33

You held your head rather high and as lightly as you could descended down the narrow and empty streets, it was a Wednesday and everyone was at work near this time. You knew you should have been as well, but couldn’t trouble yourself that day, knowing with your current appearance you were more than suspicious, people would ask questions.34

And at this point, you weren’t sure on whether you could hold a lie ship shape.35

You hummed lightly, going to a homely looking café where you oftentimes bought a hot, sticky scone and some light coffee; you selected a glazed orange pastry and ordered your usual beverage before selecting your favorite spot, vacant as it always came to be.36

Why this spot? 37

Here was a question you felt it safe to answer; the painted support beams that held the building together were located in four areas; each one held lovely design and didn’t take away at all from the atmosphere;38

But that wasn’t the point in an exactitude; the table you found most cozy was in a secluded corner, and if you sat just right, you found you could be blocked from the view of other people due to the support beam atthe bottom left of the arrangement, it was like being invisible;39

You could listen in on the world, and they would be none the wiser. You felt sly and intelligent, like a spy, and not at all like the mess you truly were; and it was nice to get away from it all, it was nothing short of vacation to you though it was a twisted and sad kind of truth, you were open to it.40

No one could see to laugh and point, and you could forget the blood-emblazoned tattoo ‘Killer’ on your forehead in light of this. They did not know, it was still your secret and you had no intent on being remembered in this place.41

You pressed your lips to the styrofoam mug and took a good swig, burning your tongue immediately but silent and uncaring, your fingers habitually pulling apart bits of sweet pastry and nibbling them without taking the time to recall there was a sense of taste. It was all flavorless, as the food and drink had no point.42

It was only the matter of selected seating you troubled yourself over; time curled at your feet like pencil shavings for some time before you left your garbage abandoned at the table and skulked out the door, looking to the ground so those who saw you wold not notice the bruises highlighting your ideally demonic features.43

Before your small frame made its way from the floor, you and someone else fell onto your back at an accidental collision you both partook in.44

“Sorry..” you mumbled out, feeling rather dazed now, still on your back and observing the ceiling, which came in and out of focus a few moments.45

You sensed whoever you’d bumped into stand up slowly, and sensed their gaze un threatened by them, not yet glancing at them as you watched your vision gradually revert to its normal way;46

“Miss...?” you hear now that it was a male that had broken your train of thought, and slowly get up from the comfortable tiled floors, eyes sliding to the side to lock in with his; he was slightly older than you, with brown eyes and red hair with a demeanor you accepted as charming but shy, docile, as you took in the view of him as it came to be.47

“I’m fine.” you say slowly, almost hollowly as you found yourself back on your feet, rejecting any help this man had to give you, your bruises and cuts hidden by a long sleeve would feel pain at any contact, the wounds tender and fresh had he taken ahold of your wrist to pull you upward..48

“Are you hurt?” you ask this unfamiliar man, who seemed nice enough and dressed in a clean and attractive suit, though you hardly regarded anyone with attraction and felt any indication of acting on it.49

You were a loner at heart and couldn’t allow those to discover your dirtiest secrets. Besides, beauty was a matter of treachery, especially your own, you were beautiful and found it disgusting and even ironic...50

“No, I’m fine...” his answer trailed slightly as he gazed into your face with a kind of recognition gracing his features rather then the first apologetic monotony you'd observed before;51

“It’s you.” he says softly, taking a slow, cautious step forward., towards you who was standing a good comfortable distance apart, spaces you found he was trying to close.52

“Huh?” your response is as you step away from him lightly, not letting him near. 53

“What do you mean by ‘It’s you’?” this demand mercury-laced leaves your lips, and he looks taken aback by the sudden show of hostility towards you, supposedly unprovoked.54

He stopped, and stood still, regarding you quietly, silent a moment as he observed your wary form located apart from him still, in a detirmined kind of way, not allowing any form of closeness, physical or emotional.55

“I’m sorry.” he says softly, but does not elaborate as to why an apology was necessary. Maybe he knew his attempt of being close was taboo in your eyes, and was offering his apology as means of breaking away the discomfort.56

It didn't.57

You bite your tongue slightly, your eyes moving from his and then to the door located inconveniently behind this man, though you couldn’t say for sure what made him so threatening, he just was.58

“I’m sorry.” he repeats, “You didn’t take it.”59

“Didn’t take what?” you ask, your eyes still not locked on his as you begin to move with reckless abandon towards the door, gripping the handle and escaping back into Real World without pausing to hear his answer.60

Turning back, now half a block away, you were relieved to note the stranger hand not cared to follow, and you released the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding within your lungs; they deflated with a squeak, and you tried not to laugh at the absurdity of the idea you had feared such a harmless man, especially after Sohma Akito.61

Now alone as you stood, your mind traveled back to memories of the night before; your body shuddered involuntarily, though it was not unexpected.62

But...63

‘Didn’t take what?’64

You closed your eyes, letting increments of unconcern filter through you, and relaxed into it, before allowing your eyes opened once more.65

‘It’s all better now...’ you tell yourself, allowing another smile to guide your way back onto pale, nearly trembling lips, then turned in the direction of home. You’d had enough excitement for one day, and were intent on retreating back to your comfortable solitude.66

You counted each footstep as you moved across the streets, still mostly deserted save a few scattered pedestrians and an occasional car; you stopped at Left 90 only to crouch against the cracked pavement and throw away some litter you’d discovered poking out from beneath a clump of brown autumn leaves that had blown in from an untended yard;67

You then proceeded to walk on, still mentally keeping check of each step as if it held a kind of significance to you, though it didn’t and you knew full well; it was just a way to pass the time pleasantly, and it kept you distracted from troublesome thoughts unwanted at the time, already having haunted to the hearts ill content.68

Your hilltop manor came into view soon enough, and you pressed in through the main gate, bothered only briefly by security and then without turning wary eyes to the envelope, you unlocked the front door to soon close it behind you, taking in the view of the clean but chaotically unorganized home you found yourself thrown into.69

‘Hire a maid?’ was a brief consideration soon banished, as it could not be allowed that anyone discover the blood-stained wordings on the wall of your attic, where you felt your footsteps take you now, creaking up the ladder to the cool area, and snuggling among moth eaten quilts and down; 70

Your body warmed, and the dull light clicked on as you reached and pulled the cord before closing access, shutting out Real World for the time being, and letting your eyes adjust to the comfy silence you’d craved since the ideal of home crept into your mind.71

The painted wording was quite visible against the whitewash, your own personally diary a little more permanent than most-- inked in blood on the walls; your favorite sayings and entries regarding murders and insanity-rocked thoughts quite clear and certain;72

Today was a lucky one for new entry you decided in a delirious manner, your teeth sinking incisor-deep into your arm to watch mini droplets form on your arm, and stream like dark vines from the wounds, trailing down sticky and wet from your elbow to your fingertips;73

Your unwounded hand felt blindly beneath the covers, finding an old paintbrush you’d gotten for less then a dime used in cheap kindergarten watercolor sets, and dabbed up the blood with the thin tip before words flew out underneath its soaked read bristles.74

‘Another full moon and a realization hungering mind sets prolong the end of others besides oneself.’75

You write this calmly, it clicking in the mind another recognition of a Full moon... Sohma... Akito...? You shook your head slightly, though whether you meant yes or no was uncertain even to you. Especially to you, you reiterate mutely, then your tongue seals over the wound to taste the fresh of blood, only a moment, before you settle in once more still, to watch the ‘ink’ dry.76

Once assured of its permanency after puzzling over the fresh words, you abandon the attic and go back to a normal ones tendencies; it was now dark and evening outdoors, and the hunger from your stomach proved troublesome.77

You ate sparingly, caesar salad in your dining room before taking the necessary action of showering and changing into clothes for a comfortable enough sleep, even if only to ease the discomfort of the nightmare you already knew you would be having as it repeated most nights almost for certain. 78

Soon ready, you curled beneath the sheets and your eyes closed for anticipated rest your body ached for, having exhausted yourself primarily through the intensity of thought.79

Time slunk by catlike and was unrecognized in the hours of sleep, same with any other changes or interferences in the darkness of the mansion, creaking not only because of the restless winds wailing warnings outside to not only you, but those who might think to approach the house haunted underneath insanity; an heirloom to the controlling gods, was the eery place with the stench of evil and residence.80

You woke in the morning well rested from a sleep uninterrupted much later; your eyes slightly achy from the abundance of tears from a nightmare you could not help but predict; once more the reality of a full moon, though now in greater supply; doubled and different though no less demanding.81

You slid your legs over the side of the bed, a soft groan rising from your lips as you got to your feet and ambled on to have breakfast unconcerned for the most part with the hunger you found as you came to, ravenous.82

Gorging yourself with sugary cereals and oatmeal, eyes landed to the clock where you discovered you’d once more slept in past noon, and past the arrival time required from work; finally taking the time to dial in to your employer, you called in sick and apologized with little conviction, your voice scratchy but hollow.83

Your manager did not disbelieve you, so you hung up and set your dishes into the sink quietly, rinsing them and leaving them there to bother with later as you made your way with slow lethargic steps to the bathroom to brush your teeth.84

Applying the necessary glob of mint toothpaste to the brush to care for neglected teeth, your eyes glide up and lock in with your reflection; something seemed different... off. 85

The toothbrush worked along your teeth as you examined yourself, a free hand gingerly tracing along the discoloration of your bruising along your face; it was the same as the night before, still rather tender, so you pulled back your fingertips before preceding to rinsing out your mouth with fresh water and finishing up quickly enough.86

Still... even in your usual morning... or more likely, noon, routine; you felt your appearance was different, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. Sighing in resignation, you’d find it later, you combed your hair as you left the bathroom, changing into a long sleeved blouse and some casual jeans, by no means intent on your appearance.87

Going to check your mailbox for the necessary bills, you leave the porch, not seeing the trace of white envelope by the doormat at the corner of your eye, this unnerved you, but you said nothing, retrieving the bills before lifting your head up from the ground to avoid spotting the envelope that was apparently no longer there; 88

You find yourself facing a bright red envelope taped to the door, in plain view as it was directly at eye level.89

Troubled at this break in your day, you peel away the tape holding it to the door and place it at the bottom of your stack of bills, stomach churning slightly as you close the door behind you once more, locking it, then going to the coffee table in the living room, setting the stack of fresh mail and sitting on the middle cushion.90

You can see the brand new, red-colored envelope on the bottom, peeking out in its vibrancy of color, and its eyed with suspicion seeping from your gaze; 91

‘A ... red envelope?’92

It was so different you felt sick at the change and felt reluctance towards opening, but then also an acute curiosity.93

‘What is in there?’ but did you really feel certain an answer was in order here? It was probably nothing, a notice from security or a bunch of coupons from a local restaurant having just opened up; but like the familiar white ones, it was unmarked and you had no way of knowing where it might have come unless you opened it.94

You sort through your other bills, writing out checks and responses painfully slow, sensing yourself procrastinating the retrieval of the crimson letter, but you knew as the stack grew thinner it was approaching until finally, finally, it was between your sweaty fingertips;95

You pulled open the flap, and closed your eyes tightly closed, and tipped the contents of the envelope onto the table.96

Soon mustering the courage to open your eyes, you stare blankly at what was inside; Then, your hand flies up as another scream rips through your body —97

~~~~~~To be Continued~~~~~~!!!!98