8 | Strength

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Warning: Self loathing.

By the time (Y/N) arrived at Shigure Sohma's house, her condition had worsened

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By the time (Y/N) arrived at Shigure Sohma's house, her condition had worsened.

Still, she tried her hardest to just breathe and calm down and keep herself in check. She just had to rewrite the whole book and make it better.

That was all she had to do.

No one seemed to be home. Luckily, Shigure gave her a key for the front door and a key to his study a few months back, for when she had to grab things from the study while he was out.

She wasted no time opening the door and dashing inside, heading straight to Shigure's study.

Once there, she cleared a part of his desk and dumped out the tea-soaked draft from her bag, now dry and wrinkly. It was unsalvageable. Her carefully written lines were all mixed together into a streaky mess by the tea, rendering the crinkled paper unreadable.

(Y/N) drew a shaky breath. All of my hard work, gone.

She felt her throat tense up, signaling an incoming wave of tears, which now started to gather up by the corners of her eyes.

She exhaled slowly, taking a seat as she mulled over her next options, trying not to break down in tears by steadying her breathing.

So, the last draft I wrote was now gone and unreadable. Well, according to Akito it was garbage anyway, so it probably wouldn't be usuable even if it wasn't ruined by the tea.

She swallowed thickly, feeling a stab of anguish at calling her work garbage.

That was the one draft I poured my everything into... But that wasn't the only draft! Shigure-sensei must have a copy of the older ones here.

She lifted the corners of her lips, trying to smile.

There we go. Now there's somewhere to start.

(Y/N) worked quickly, shoving back Shigure's books and papers into tidy piles as she searched for the draft, clearing away his messes. It took her some time to find it, and by the time she did, she had already calmed down and was no longer on the verge of crying.

She ran to get a glass of water from the kitchen and got to work.

Hours ticked by, yet she refused to stop, even as her hand cramped and back ached. In her three weeks at Akito's home, she barely got any sleep, as she was plagued by nightmares, his sharp remarks, and she worked late at night to finish the draft she gave him.

Exhaustion was taking its toll. As (Y/N) wrote, the beginnings of a headache were already forming behind her eyes, prompting her to drink more water.

I will not disappoint Akito again. I am the Fox. I am not a disappointment.

She grit her teeth, trying to force herself to believe it.

Even Akito says I'm the least remarkable of the Foxes. That must mean I disappointed them, right? a small voice inside her asked.

𝐀 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 | FRUITS BASKETWhere stories live. Discover now