[FIC] "Everything But the Sea" Part 1 (of 3) (30 Kisses theme #5)
I've posted all of my other 30_kisses entries over at the community, but since this is three posts at once I'm just putting them all here on my journal and linking from there, rather than the usual way 'round.
And this completes my claim. Now I get to go fall down.
Title: "Everything But the Sea" (Part 1 of 3)
Author: Ysabet MacFarlane (
umadoshi)
Pairing: Sohma Hatsuharu and Sohma Isuzu (Rin)
Fandom: Fruits Basket
Theme #5 ("ano sa"/"hey, you know...")
Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Takaya Natsuki and Hakusensha; English-language versions by FUNimation (anime) and Tokyopop (manga). This piece of fiction is in no way endorsed by or affiliated with any of the copyright holders. Please support the original work!
Notes:
Late July 2001
**********
There were precisely three ways to deal with Ayame when he'd set his mind on something: cave immediately; smile and nod and trust that something else would catch his fancy before he expected you to follow through; or resist on the odd chance that he'd notice.
Sometimes nothing worked.
Fortunately for Haru, Ayame's attention was entirely fixated on Rin, and so far she hadn't so much as glanced at him for support. Inch by painstaking inch, she was allowing herself to ask him for help when she needed it, testing her own willingness to take it, but Haru had yet to convince her that she didn't need to hold her ground about their marriage plans alone.
The irony didn't escape him.
Ayame had come armed with weapons that he clearly thought were irresistible: lavish design sketches and a willingness to describe, in ebullient, merciless detail, exactly how Rin would look if she would only let him create her wedding dress. Air-headed he might be, but there was no doubt that he knew his business. If he had his way, Rin wouldn't be wearing any of the frothy, frilly, layered concoctions that were the pride of his store; it would be an Ayame Creation as suited to the woman as to the occasion.
Trouble was, the occasion Ayame was swooning over wasn't going to happen.
"I don't need a wedding dress," Rin was saying, in the grimmest approximation of a patient tone Haru had heard in a long time. "No dress. No wedding kimono. None of it. We're not having a wedding."
"Yes, yes," Ayame replied, almost as if he were listening, "but you're hardly about to be married naked. You must wear something."
Rin had two reasons for vetoing anything beyond legally registering their marriage. The one she explained to the few people who pressed for details was that she had no use for a gaudy Western display, and never mind that the family could afford it a thousand times over.
The other, which she only shared with Haru, was that the idea of going to a shrine and letting a priest invoke blessings and bind them to each other, even symbolically, made her break out in a cold sweat. "I've already had a god. One was enough."
Ayame, however, had long since perfected the art of ignoring anything that inconvenienced him. "If you do not allow me to design that something for you, my devastation will be absolute. It may be my only opportunity to make something for you."
Something in the air changed; Haru looked up and was met with the rare sight of Ayame being utterly serious. "I had the most exquisite notions of how to dress you for our next dance together, and now the chance will never come."
"You did not just say that." The look on Rin's face was one that had been known to send servants and not a few family members hurrying out of her way.
Ayame didn't so much as blink. "As glorious as my dance with Tori-san would have been this year, he and I were nearing adulthood during our last turn together. The golden memory of it will blaze forever in my heart! You, however... No, fondly as I remember the dance we once shared, you were too young for it, and I had only scarcely begun to realize my own genius. You would have been extraordinary had we been able to dance together next year, and I would have dressed you accordingly.
"So!" He dismissed the subject as quickly as he'd brought it up. "I should have liked to surprise you with this, but I shall, of course, require your precise measurements closer to the date--a week or two ahead, perhaps?"
"You mean you can't tell by looking?"
The icy edge to the question rolled off Ayame, who looked her over from head to toe in one brisk glance. The tiniest of creases marred his brow and disappeared again as he tossed his hair back over one shoulder. "You've dropped half a size since I saw you last."
"Why does Tori-nii have a scale in his office when he has you?"
"Goodness, yes, one does wonder. Now, I'll leave these sketches with you, and we'll be in touch. À bientôt!" He stepped into his shoes as he spoke, and was out the door with a jaunty wave.
Rin stared after him. "Did he hear a word I said?"
Haru closed the textbook he'd been pretending to read. "Nope."
She slumped to the floor beside him, covering her eyes with a hand. "He's really serious about this."
"Well...at least he kinda noticed the 'no wedding dress' part?"
Her fingers parted to allow a suspicious gaze. "You're on his side."
"Are you planning to be naked?" Brittle silence. "He had me at 'corset'."
"I have corsets. I don't need him to make me one."
"You don't have anything like he was talking about." He picked up a sketch and examined it wistfully.
"I guess I don't." A strained smile accompanied the concession. "But I don't really need to decide what to wear now, do I? We've still got a little while to worry about that stuff."
"Sure." Rin's hand was still pressed to her face, so Haru kissed the back of her wrist instead of her cheek. "Wear whatever you want. As long as I walk out of there married to you, I don't care about any of it. I just think Aya-nii's right that you'd look hot in something like that."
Her expression softened as she straightened up. "'Hot' isn't usually the idea, is it?"
"But you do it so well," he said, and she laughed.
"I promise to wear something you like, okay?"
It might have passed for lighthearted if he hadn't seen her eyes. She leaned closer and kissed him, cupping her hands around his cheeks as she got to her feet. "You're supposed to be studying," she said, and he let her leave.
**********
The word "wedding" was fraught for another reason, too, and it wasn't entirely avoidable. In just over a week Tohru and Kyo would be home for their first visit since moving away, and what Tohru had said, tentatively, was that she hoped she and Rin could spend some of the time catching up. It was Kyo and Haru who made arrangements for the four of them to visit the family's beach property--Kyo who admitted that Tohru would like it, and Haru who was willing to sort things out with the family.
It was also Kyo who'd told Rin flat-out what Tohru wouldn't: she was scared to ask because of the reason they were coming home.
"If I can deal with Gure-nii marrying her--" she never said Akito's name if she could help it "--I can deal with Tohru going to watch," Rin had snapped, and Haru prudently hadn't pointed out until later that she was "dealing with" Shigure's choice of bride by treating Shigure like a vaguely unpleasant stranger. "Of course I want to see her. Tell her not to be so damn ridiculous."
"Are you guys even going?" Kyo had asked, a hint of static crackling on the line as a summer storm moved in, and Haru had had to admit he didn't know.
**********
"Kyo and Tohru'll probably hate it," Rin said from where she stood by the window a few mornings later, "it" being her shorthand for the event being planned for the day after Shigure and Akito's wedding. The wedding itself was supposed to be a fairly private affair, but the subsequent reception was nothing of the sort. Shigure, Haru gathered, had cheerfully declined to take part in the blistering argument Akito had had over it with the family retainers. Her new sense of responsibility to the family was all well and good, they insisted, but maintaining good relations with other prominent families was part of the package. Akito had reportedly countered that if she and Shigure had to have a celebration to invite business associates to, then every member of the family who could be tracked down would be on the guest list as well. Rumor had it that some unlucky assistant-to-an-assistant had spent a mind-numbing amount of time on that sole task.
The idea of being surrounded by such a press of people rubbed Haru's nerves raw enough that, family issues aside, he sympathized more than he wanted to admit with Rin's desire to avoid the whole thing.
"Kyo never got dragged to anything formal," Rin continued, "and Tohru's family was...was..."
"Poor," Haru filled in when she trailed off uncomfortably. "Yeah, but Honda-san's more polite than all of us put together. She'll be fine if she doesn't get flustered." He wandered over to where Rin was standing and followed her gaze, fixed on the view below. "Sensei'll miss you if you don't go."
"I don't care."
"Because of him or Akito?" Rin stayed silent, forehead pressed against the window. "Rin. The head of the family's getting married. We've got to at least think about going."
"I'm not telling you not to go, so stop pushing me!" She shoved herself away from the glass, rounding on him. "I don't owe the family a thing."
"But if I go, I want you to come with me," he said, unflinching. A year earlier it would have been panic creeping across her face if he'd pressed her so hard. Six months earlier, she would have left the room. Anger was cleaner, easier to deal with. "All the family's political friends are gonna be there, and plenty of them have daughters. You know we're both still getting marriage offers, since half the family's hoping we'll change our minds."
"As long as no one tries to force us, so what? I don't care about the stupid letters and phone calls! It's not like we're the ones who have to reject the offers."
"They can still make things harder for us if they think we've made them lose face. Anyway, that's not the only reason I want you to think about it."
She visibly bit back whatever her first reaction was. "I didn't think it was."
"How long has it been since you actually saw Akito?"
"I don't know. Months."
"Well, I want her to see you. I want her to have to see you. No matter how much she's changed, she still has to live with what she did to you. I want her to see that you're alive, and I want you to see that she's just human and she can't ever hurt you again." His voice thickened as he spoke, weighed down by the unnameable feeling that still made his chest hurt whenever he thought about Akito. The rage he'd felt when he'd confronted her the day Kureno had saved Rin hadn't been enough to make him take the revenge he'd wanted; instead, when it had burned away, he'd been left with both the gut-churning memory of how it felt to truly want to kill someone and the shame of having done nothing.
"I didn't hurt her then," he'd told Rin later, not long after the curse had released them. "If I didn't hurt her when I found out she'd almost killed you, how can I do it now?"
"I'm glad you couldn't," she'd replied.
"But do you wish I had?"
That question had gone unanswered. Then, as now, Rin had walked away.
**********
Knowing that Haru was leaving her alone to pull herself together in private if she wanted to was maddening, but Rin made herself take advantage of it. She spent the next ten minutes circling the small room Haru insisted on referring to as her "studio", tidying things that didn't need it and trying to calm down.
"I'm not angry," she said when he finally came to the door. "I just needed a minute."
"I know. I didn't want to go to school without saying goodbye." Haru took it as an invitation to come in, and met her at the window, laying his hand over hers. His fingers stroked lightly between her tendons, his thumb slipping down against her wrist to feel her pulse. "Either way, things'll be better after all this is over. I know you need a break." His voice hitched, enough to make her glance up. Enough to make her look. The weariness on his face hit her like a slap.
How long has it been since I looked him in the eye?
"Getting out of the city sounds nice." Breathe, she told herself. "It'll be good to see Tohru. And Kyo," she added as an afterthought, still unused to the idea of willingly spending time with him. "Away from here."
"Yeah."
"What about Yuki? Will you get to see him before we leave? Or is he staying for a while?"
"He's gonna be spending a lot of time with Kuragi, but we'll figure something out."
Rin leaned back against the window, resisting the urge to rub her eyes. Closing them was all it took to bring on waves of exhaustion, and Haru was watching, always watching... "That's good. I know you've been missing him." Guilt knotted in her stomach, crept up into her throat. "You really feel like you have to go?"
His eyes lost focus, made it a little easier to breathe. "I think it'd be good for all of us to be together sometimes."
"And you want me and Akito to see each other."
"I won't let her touch you," Haru said. "But it's...I don't know, you've seemed more...more scared lately, even though you haven't seen her. You were saying her name when I woke you up from a nightmare the other night." He hesitated, gathering his thoughts. "I don't know. I know you've pretty much stopped going out again. I know you've barely let me touch you in weeks. I know I'll do anything to make you feel safe again, but lately I don't know what you need."
"I always let you touch me," she protested.
"Rin, come on. I can tell when you don't want me to touch you."
"I want you to." He let her pull him against her, resting his head on her shoulder. "I want to touch you." The familiar smell of his skin was soothing, and his hair was soft under her cheek; she buried her fingers in it, holding him tightly. "Things'll be better soon."
He nodded without relaxing, and slowly straightened up. "I'll be late if I don't get going."
"I know." Rin put her hands on his shoulders for balance, and he bent far enough for her to kiss him; the way he responded--not hesitant, but passive--made her sick with anger at herself. She channeled the heat of it back into the kiss, irrationally wishing she could ask him to skip class, that she could find a way to touch him that didn't offer more than felt safe to give. "See you when you get home."
**********
The alarm she had made sure to set before she gave in and went back to bed almost didn't wake her in time for her afternoon appointment. Only having already chosen what she was going to wear let her get out the door quickly; picking outfits had started taking more effort than she liked, but going near the family estate meant dressing carefully. Not for the first time that week, Rin wished fervently that her destination were anywhere else in the city.
Running late and already worn out from the heat and the not-quite-argument with Haru, she made the mistake of wondering if the day could possibly get any worse.
Coming across Akito and Shigure on a street half a kilometer from the Main House--when they were accompanied by four strangers who saw Akito notice her and abruptly stop talking, so that Rin couldn't quite pretend not to know them--was proof enough that the day wasn't through with her.
If Shigure's wave had been an overt summons, she might have simply run. As it was, she found herself frozen, watching their approach.
She didn't register the strangers' names as Shigure introduced them, his voice affable in the way that meant he was enjoying...something. Rin couldn't imagine what. But she didn't have to listen to know they were from families tied to the Sohmas by business and favors and all the other infinite chains of social obligation that made the family powerful.
More than anything, it was that power that made her bow slowly, keeping a wary eye on their reaction through demurely lowered lashes. Some of the freedoms Akito had promised all of the once-Jyuunishi could still be taken away.
Her body knew precisely how far to bend, how to maintain the smooth line of her neck while she dipped her head in greeting; she left it to its own devices and concentrated only on not letting them see her teeth grit with anger and terror.
"Honored guests. Akito," she acknowledged, voice perfectly empty, letting the strangers make their own judgment on whether Akito's unadorned name bespoke intimacy or contempt. She ignored Shigure.
"My second cousin," Akito said, and Rin lifted her head in time to see the speculative looks the strange men were giving her. "Sohma Isuzu."
"We're having quite the year for weddings," Shigure said, all pleasantness. "She's also getting married this summer."
"Congratulations," one of the men said, and Rin nodded, not at all sure what the results would be if she tried to force a smile. Possibly vomiting, if the way her stomach hurt was any indication. "We'll look forward to seeing you again," he continued, for all the world as if he intended to stand there and carry on a conversation.
"Excuse me," she said, not quite interrupting. "I have to be going." Aware of Akito's eyes on her, she dug deep into the reserve of willpower that had, more than once, been all that kept her on her feet. It held her still for long enough for the man to nod understandingly, and kept her from running instead of walking as she left.
It didn't keep her from jerking away when Shigure fell in step beside her, pacing her casually as she turned a corner to escape Akito's line of sight. "Get away from me!" she hissed, stopping dead.
He studied her as if she hadn't spoken. "No one said you had to play nice, you know."
"The second Haru and I are married, this stupid game is over."
"No one's going to interfere with you."
"I'm not taking that chance." She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking at him. "Why the hell should I trust you?"
"Because I've never lied to you?"
"Shigure." If he reacted to her use of his full name, she didn't see it. "I mean it. Get away from me."
The flicker of movement she glimpsed from the corner of her eye was the only sign that he'd left; Kyo wasn't the only one of them who could move soundlessly. When she was sure he was gone, Rin fished out her cell phone and called ahead to say she was running late.
It was another ten minutes before she trusted herself enough to step away from the wall she'd been leaning against and carry on her way.
**********
Rin drummed her fingers on her thigh, the only fidgeting she was willing to allow herself while she waited. One thing usually led to another, and she didn't have the energy to pace. "The doctor's a bit behind schedule," the receptionist had said apologetically, gesturing down the hall. "Go make yourself comfortable."
The room wasn't quite as plush as most doctors' offices Rin had been in--and she had no illusions about where the money for that comfort usually came from--but there were small touches that kept it from being austere: flowers on the windowsill, paintings on the walls, crayon scribblings from small children. Kana didn't seem to be drawing on the family resources for her practice, but it was as close to cozy and welcoming as possible. Tori-nii could take a few notes from her, Rin thought, wishing her fingers weren't so set on betraying her nerves.
On the other hand, Hatori was never late.
A sound on the other side of the door made her clasp her hands on her lap, squeezing them to stillness as Kana came in. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting," Kana said, taking a clipboard from the desk and glancing at it. "I was--oh!"
"I was late anyway," Rin said, wondering whether the fact that Kana had married out of the family meant they might skip the usual pleasantries that came up when Sohmas met for the first time.
"Sohma Isuzu?" Kana said as she sat, only half questioning. "I was a Sohma before I got married."
"I'm aware of that, yes." Clearly the odds of forestalling that discussion were slim.
"Well, then, I'm pleased to meet you," Kana said brightly. "I don't think I've ever had a relation for a patient, actually. My first practice was up north, and we're still getting established here." She set the clipboard down again. "May I use your given name? Saying 'Sohma-san' to relatives I haven't met before always strikes me as odd."
"I usually go to Hatori. And you can call me whatever you want."
"Hatori-san, of course!" Kana's smile widened. "I was actually his assistant when I first started out, but I haven't run into him since I moved back here." Rin winced, dreading the inevitable rush of nostalgia, but Kana surprised her: she paused for a moment, took a closer look at the form Rin had filled out, and switched gears without batting an eye. "So what brings you to me, Isuzu-san? Is it just that you feel more comfortable talking to a woman? I'm sure Hatori-san--"
Rin shook her head. "He's known me my whole life. It felt too weird." The explanation was entirely true, and entirely beside the point. "Are there a bunch of questions you need to ask?"
If Kana took offense, she didn't show it. "Some," she said, and got down to business. "How old are you?"
"I'll be twenty next month."
Kana wrote it down without comment, and Rin lowered her eyes, waiting for the next question. Her impression of Hatori's former fiancée had been colored so strongly by the stories of a nervous breakdown that it was disconcerting to be met with such cheerful competence. She inhaled deeply, glad that the scent of the flowers on the sill smothered any more medicinal smells.
The next few answers were straightforward: that it had been four months since she'd had a checkup; that she hadn't had any unusual results from blood work or other tests; that she had never been pregnant before; that she thought she was six and a half weeks pregnant now.
Kana stopped writing. "That's a very precise estimate."
"Six weeks and five days," Rin clarified, saying aloud what she had barely allowed herself to think for most of those weeks.
Kana made a note. "You aren't sexually active very often, then?" Rin stared at her. "I'm sorry, I thought--for you to know so specifically--"
"Not very often lately." Not at all.
"I see. Well, I should take a look at you. Have you had an ultrasound before?"
Rin let herself be walked through the preparation, and it wasn't until she was leaning back and waiting that Kana said, "If everything seems fine and you feel up to it, it's perfectly safe for you to have a normal sex life."
"I understand," Rin said, when an answer seemed to be expected; she closed her eyes against the fluorescent glare of the lights, and said nothing else.
After what seemed like an interminable round of minor discomfort, she heard Kana ask, "Do you want to look?"
"Look...?" There was a faint glow through her eyelids when she turned her head towards Kana's voice.
"At the screen."
Her mouth went dry. "No. Just tell me when you're done."
Afterwards, when she'd carefully put her clothes back in order and taken a seat, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor. "Everything looks fine," Kana said gently. "I think you're right about how far along you are. Do you know what you want to do?"
"You mean, do I want to have it?"
"Yes."
"I promised him I wouldn't keep secrets anymore." She barely heard herself speaking, saying more than she'd intended. "He...the father doesn't know. And I promised."
"I see." That was all Kana said for a few moments, long enough for Rin to realize that she had no idea how Hatori would have responded to the same information. She was sure it would have been quite different. Kana's silence was thoughtful and unobtrusive, and too short to let Rin get entirely lost in her own thoughts. "I gather you're planning to tell him?"
"Yes."
"All right." Kana produced a blank piece of paper and began writing. "The sooner you decide what you're going to do, the better, no matter what you choose." The page was filling quickly. "I want you to make a follow-up appointment and follow these instructions. They'll be good for you regardless."
Rin took the paper without trying to read it. "Is that all?"
Kana sat back. "If I may be frank, Isuzu-san, you don't look as if you'd absorb a single thing I told you right now."
Without thinking, Rin said, "Tori-nii would make me listen."
"I'm sure he would. But all I want you to do right now is go home and try to get yourself into a place where you can think clearly, all right? Read what I wrote down and call me if you have any questions. At this stage it boils down to doing your best to take care of yourself."
But what if I don't know how? Instead of saying it aloud, she got to her feet with a nod. "I'll try."
**********
It took her two more days of the truth sticking in her throat, crushing her chest when she imagined telling him. Two full days; it was well past midnight when she realized she'd been staring at the same moonlit patch of wall for nearly an hour, curled on her side. Not unusual, but Haru's unmistakable wakefulness behind her was.
She asked anyway. "Are you asleep?"
"No."
"Will you hold me for a little while?"
"Sure."
He came to her when she didn't move, wrapping his arms loosely around her. Rin shivered and leaned back into his embrace, trying to time her breathing with the soft beat of his heart against her spine. And the words came. "I'm pregnant, you know."
"You're--" His grip on her tightened. "Are you sure?"
"Very sure."
Haru's hands found hers in the dark. "Do you know how far along you are?"
"Kana-san said about seven weeks."
"You already saw her?" If her choice of doctor struck him as unusual, he didn't comment.
"I wanted to be sure before I told you," she said--too sharp, too quick.
"Pregnant," he whispered, lifting his head to press his cheek against her temple. "I didn't know."
"How were you supposed to know?" Her voice sounded too loud; even the traffic seemed to have died down. "I haven't been getting sick, just tired. And my cycles are still all messed up--"
"We got careless." His thumb circled the sharp bone of her wrist. "And you're still too thin..."
Rin sucked in a breath, torn between trying to pull away and rolling over to cling to him. "Please don't talk around this."
"This has been happening for almost two months, and I didn't even notice...?"
"Haru--"
"Are you asking how I feel about it?" She nodded, shutting her eyes at the feel of his mouth touching the nape of her neck, wishing she could pretend it was desire making him tremble against her. "I feel like I always notice little things about you and miss the big things. And I feel like an idiot because we've been sleeping together for years and never talked about this."
"You know there was never anything to talk about before."
His reply came slowly, as if he were weighing each word. "Because I didn't want to think about it." His side of their unspoken bargain: Tell me the truth, and I'll never look away from it again. "Because I didn't want to admit I knew you'd have an abortion if this happened."
"You were only fifteen."
"Yeah. Well. Now I'm older than you were then, and I--" He shifted, kissed the top of her head. "--I think I'm scared."
"I can still--"
"I'm scared," he repeated. "And part of me is happy, and I'm afraid to be happy about it if you don't want to keep it."
Rin kept her eyes fixed on the patch of moonlight, on the soft edges where it melted into the shadows. "Kana-san said the sooner we decide, the better."
"Okay. It's okay, we'll figure it out." Unbearably gentle hands turned her onto her back. "Come here, love," he said, as if she weren't already reaching for him, aching for the comfort of his arms. "What're you feeling?"
"I don't know," she said. "The things I'm thinking don't make any sense."
"Like what?"
"Like..." Finding the right words to explain was a different problem than forcing simple facts out of her mouth. "You know how Mama--my parents used to lock me in my room." His pulse quickened; she rested her forehead against his throat, obscurely comforted. "Sometimes Daddy hurt me first if he was mad enough, but they never came into my room with me. I hated it in there, but at least I was safe. I was alone.
"Except I wasn't. All of you were there with me somewhere." Haru's lips moved against her head, breathing her name into her hair. "And then it was the same when Akito...when I was supposed to be all alone in my mind and I wasn't. That's how this feels. My body's the only place where I've always been alone, and now I'm not." Please understand.
"You can feel it?" Awe tinged his voice.
"I told myself I was imagining it." She pulled away from him, taking his hand as she sat up. "And I didn't know what to tell you. I don't think I'm ready for this."
The stillness of the night almost swallowed his reply. "To talk about it, or..."
"Either." She found herself resting her free hand over her stomach and moved it away, digging her fingers into the futon. "But what if I never am?"
"I don't know."
"I can't even convince myself it's safe to be in a room with Akito," she whispered.
Behind her, Haru sat up too. "She doesn't have anything to do with us."
"That's not what you've been saying all summer." Before he could answer, she shook her head. "Maybe you were right. I don't know. We can't just stop being who we are. We'll be wearing our name for the rest of our lives."
"We don't get to take Kyo's way out and ditch it when we get married, huh?" Calmer now, he kissed her neck soothingly. "Rin, it's the middle of the night. We don't have to decide anything right this minute."
She let him draw her back down, not commenting on how carefully he arranged himself around her. "I'm glad you told me," he said quietly, just as she closed her eyes. "Thank you for that."
**********
Three days later, no decisions had been made. Rin wasn't sure whether she was leaving Haru time to think or whether he was giving it to her, but neither of them uttered a word about anything more significant than what to have for breakfast.
Whenever Rin had looked at Haru during those days, she saw him through a familiar double vision. No matter what he was doing--studying, watching the television dramas he got absorbed in, sitting beside her on the low wall near their apartment complex, where she liked to people-watch--he was also unnaturally still. It reminded her of the first month or two when they'd been rebuilding their relationship, the way he'd tried so hard not to push against the new boundaries she was shaping for herself, his desperate trust that she wouldn't go out of his reach.
It had been hard for him then, and she knew it was hard for him now. It showed in the absent way he touched his jewelry, in the way he held unformed metal and stared at it as if he was waiting for it to show him what shape it was meant to take.
Or maybe that was how he'd always approached crafting things; she'd rarely seen his process before they lived together, only the final results when he'd slipped them around her wrists or throat or into his own earlobes.
**********
The day of Tohru and Kyo's arrival was blisteringly hot, overwhelming enough that Rin grudgingly admitted she didn't have the energy to go with Kazuma to meet their train. Instead, she'd opted--sensibly, Haru thought--to call Kazuma and ask if she and Haru could go to his house and wait there.
The truth was that it wasn't much cooler there than in their apartment, but there was enough of a breeze in the back garden to make it more than worth arriving early to avoid traveling across town in the day's full heat.
Rin hadn't intended to fall asleep, but her body rarely gave her much choice anymore. Kazuma merely raised an eyebrow when she started nodding off over lunch and reminded her that there was still a bed in the room she'd lived in until only four months ago.
She kept sleep at bay a little while longer, long enough for Haru and Kazuma to decide that an impromptu lesson was just the thing to spend the hour until Kazuma had to leave for the station. "Of course," she said, in feigned disbelief. "How else could you possibly want to spend a disgustingly hot day like this?"
Haru was unfazed. "If I'm gonna get all sweaty anyway, I might as well work for it.”
After a moment's thought, Rin decided it was a better idea to go with them to the dojo rather than napping in her old room. She'd never felt inclined to study with Kazuma beyond the basic self-defense he'd taught her, moves carefully chosen to minimize the risk of upper body contact between a Jyuunishi and an attacker--"If someone jumps me and makes me transform they'll regret it anyway," she'd said, ruthlessly practical at thirteen and aware of the damage hooves could do--but the atmosphere in the dojo was comforting when it wasn't packed full of eager students.
She made herself comfortable in a corner, and when she asked, Haru gave her the necklace and bracelets and shirt he'd taken off. She put the jewelry on and folded the shirt under her head, and was asleep almost before she'd leaned all the way back against the walls.
**********
The dream was a dream. She knew because it told her so.
"You're dreaming, of course, child," said the Horse, standing stock-still perhaps two meters away, staring at her through the swirl of tastefully but richly-dressed people who were mingling, cutting business deals in languages she didn't understand. "Have some wine."
"I'm still nineteen," Rin said, and the Horse laughed at her.
"What do a few weeks matter?" It was beside her, impossibly fleet, offering her a glass it wasn't holding. "Better a little taste now than too much of one later." Chestnut flanks heaved and steamed as if it had run a long, long way, and Rin accepted the wine, staring at the warm, ruddy sheen of the Horse's neck. "Drink it, but not too deeply."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Take care not to waste your life trying to forget." Something like invisible hands spun her around so she was facing the crowd, the low whispers and sidelong stares of people judging her for the hunger they felt when they saw her. The dress Ayame had created for her was exactly what she would have asked for if she'd had the words: red so dark it bordered on black; the neckline higher than she'd worn since leaving school. Nearly all the detail work was in the sleeves, in the bits of fabric coiling around her arms.
Behind her, the Horse nickered and nuzzled her spine, a velvet caress along her scar; the intimate, careless touch of something that had worn her body like a mask. It was excruciating, made more so by the obvious fondness of the gesture. She stared back at the assembled mass of people, too on edge to protest.
Will you also fear your son's touch once he no longer inhabits your flesh? This time the voice was in her mind, not her ears; she flinched at how familiar, how comfortable, it felt.
The touch changed with a palpable sigh when she didn't respond, became Haru's hand on the back of her neck. "How many of them want to put a ring on your finger?" he asked, following her gaze. "They want all of us. We're the ones the family didn't put on display. They've never seen us up close and they've never dreamed of touching us." He took the glass of wine from her and drank one slow sip. "That guy thinks he wants me for his daughter." Rin followed his gaze to a middle-aged man, hair graying at the temples, who averted his eyes when he saw them looking. "Really he just wants me."
"I know." She did. They all knew the look of someone who'd been captivated by the too-perfect beauty the curse had given them. She reclaimed the wine and took a single mouthful. Garnet-red in the glass, it turned to sake in her mouth.
She set the glass down on the table she knew was behind her. "Tell him you don't want her. Or him."
"Okay."
Her knees buckled when he kissed her; she grabbed for the edge of the table with both hands, clinging to it until she regained her balance, and because it was a dream she kissed him back, mouth and cheek and ear, tasting the salt of his skin and the metal of his earrings, not caring who saw. Wanting them to see. He made a sound she hadn't heard in far too long, shaped it into words and defiance. "I'm yours. They can't have me."
The fabric of her dress had become something like ribbons. They parted under his touch, letting his hands find bare skin. His fingers were almost uncomfortably hot on her spine, or maybe the heat was under her skin; when she inhaled her lungs burned, making her gasp--
--as if she had run a long, long way--
--and Haru lifted his head, looked past her, and said, "You can't have me."
Akito's voice sent an entirely different tremor through her. "I know."
"And you can't have her." His hands pulled the ribbons of the dress apart where they'd woven together over her back, exposing the mark Akito had left on her for all the assembled guests to see. "Look at her," he whispered in Rin's ear, impossibly tender fury. He kissed her again, filling her mouth with the taste of the sake they'd shared in the presence of the only god they'd ever known. "Make her see you."
Rin turned to look, and light filled her eyes.
**********
"Bad dream?" Haru asked. Rin opened her eyes to see him sitting beside her and immediately closed them against the diffuse sunlight that was setting the dojo walls aglow.
"I--" She moved closer, resting her forehead against his collarbone, blinking until her eyes adjusted. "I'm not sure. Did you wake me up?"
"Huh?" Haru traced the part in her hair with his fingertips. "No. Shihan left a little while ago, so I've been catching my breath." His hand settled against her cheek, nudging her head so he could see her face. "Are you all right?"
"I can't go." Her lips felt frozen and heavy, making her shiver in the heat. "I can't do it, Haru." It was his turn to shut his eyes, his face going still while he thought. "I promise I won't be angry if you go," she added.
"Not without you."
"If you feel like you ought to--"
"Rin." He cut her off gently. "I won't choose anyone over you. Not the others, and especially not Akito."
A smile and a frown warred for control of her mouth. "You're taking 'no' for an answer because I'm pregnant, aren't you?" It was the first time either of them had said the words since she'd first told him. Haru took her hands and squeezed, half-lifting her to her feet as he stood up.
"That's part of it. I mean, that's not why, but it explains why." Baffled, she waited for clarification. "I knew things had been hard for you lately, but I didn't know how, so..." He trailed off and regrouped his thoughts. "I still think you should see her. But right now it seems like it'd make things harder for you, not easier."
She freed her hands and slipped an arm through his, leading him to the door and the fresh, if thick, air. "I should have told you sooner."
"Maybe." Bright sun hit their faces; Haru tilted his head back with a sigh. "I don't have an answer for that."
His lack of jewelry made him look more naked to her than the absence of the shirt they'd left inside. "Sit down," Rin said, nodding at the highest of the three steps leading up to the doorway. When he obeyed, she knelt on the middle stair, reaching behind her head to undo the necklace she'd borrowed. Haru leaned forward to let her secure it around his throat before he retrieved the too-loose bracelets from her wrists.
"We have to talk about this, lovely girl," he said.
"I know." She took a slow, aching breath and sat down on the step below him, leaning back between his thighs. "Remember how we used to come here all the time when Kazuma was away?"
"Yeah. We were practically kids."
"It was nice." She could hardly hear her own voice. "You want to keep him, don't you?"
"I think so," he said, and if the words were uncertain, his tone wasn't.
"You'd barely be out of school."
"Does that matter? I'm not going to college anyway, and money's the one thing we don't have to worry about."
"Sohma blood money," Rin said bitterly.
"We haven't been turning it down. Are we gonna start saying no? We can. But I can't think of a better use for it." His hands settled on her shoulders, rubbing at the knots that inevitably tried to form there. "What do you want to do?"
"I don't know." Her throat hurt, as if the tension Haru was trying to alleviate was making a new home there. "I can't even think about it. It's really messing with my head, and I know we have to decide soon, but that's the only thing I'm sure about."
"Want to know what I know?" He reached down to take her hand, waiting until she nodded. "I know I think we can do this. I know I'll love you just as much if you decide we can't. And I know I'm scared, too." He slipped his other arm around her, holding her loosely against him. "You wouldn't be so freaked out if you flat-out didn't want to keep it, would you?" he asked. "What part's scaring you so badly?"
"What if I hurt him?"
"What?" He straightened up in astonishment; Rin tightened her grip convulsively on his hand.
"What if I hurt him?" she repeated, her voice strengthening. "Why wouldn't I? It's the only thing I know how to do. I know how to scream and hit and walk away and that's all, I don't..."
"Oh, god," he murmured when she faltered. "Rin. No." She didn't answer. "There's no way. You're not like your parents."
"We don't know what they were like before I was born."
"No, and I don't care. I know you."
"There's nothing about me that would make a good mother."
"Rin." He tried to turn her to face him, and she went rigid, shaking her head. "I wouldn't love you like this if you had that in you." Her grip had loosened; he slid his hand free and stroked her face, touching the expression she wouldn't show him. His hand came to rest over her closed eyes. "Do you know why I love you?"
"No." In that moment, it was unfathomable. She sat perfectly still while Haru's arms went around her, holding her as if he thought she might fall apart.
"I don't even know how to make you understand," he said. "I love everything about you, and I know you, and I promise you're not like your mother. Trust me on that, if you won't trust yourself." His forehead was hot against the back of her neck. "Don't cry."
She hadn't realized she was, and it was a long time before she was able to stop. Haru held her without saying anything else. Years of practice made her cry almost silently--a mixed blessing. The effort of it made her muscles seize and cramp, but her own silence let her hear and slowly focus on something outside herself. She latched onto the sound of the garden's sun-drunk insects, the ragged sound of Haru breathing as if he wanted to cry too and didn't dare. Bit by bit, she dragged herself under control.
"This is up to you," Haru said finally, loosening his hold on her so she could rest her head on his thigh. "You know that, right?"
"But you want him--" she began, swiping her knuckles angrily at her eyes.
"Yeah, I do. But if you don't, it's not fair to anybody."
Her arms shook when she pushed herself upright, turning to face him. "Haru--"
"I can't do it." His eyes were clear and unwavering. "I'm glad your parents had you--I'm so glad--but our family's done enough damage, having kids they don't want. I won't do it to ours."
"He's ours," she said, tasting the words as much as saying them to him.
"Yeah. Exactly."
"You'd stop me, right?"
"Stop you from--" He broke off, realizing what she meant. "I'm not like your mother either." The look he gave her spoke volumes. "Do you really think I'd want this if I thought you were capable of hurting a kid?"
"No," she said, unable to keep a quiver out of her voice.
"Good." A fraction of the strain around his eyes eased. "I'd never, ever want you to think that. But yes, I'd stop you."
She leaned closer, close enough that they were breathing together. "I'm strong enough to carry you now," he'd said, what seemed like a lifetime ago. "Let me carry you when you can't walk any further." He'd already changed by then, when she hadn't been looking; the whimsical, distracted boy she'd fallen in love with had grown into a man, however young, who'd stared into the heart of his own weakness and chosen to leave it behind.
"Okay," she said.
It took him a moment to realize what she meant, and longer to believe it. "Are you sure?"
"You really think we can do it?"
"Yeah." Relief flooded his voice. "I do."
"You've thought about this, haven't you?" She hitched herself up to sit beside him on the top step. "Not just this week, I mean."
"Of course." He put an arm around her shoulders, obviously unwilling to break contact, and Rin tucked herself against his side. "I just didn't think we could, until the curse broke."
"Well, Akito would've killed us," she said, and for once didn't flinch as she said the name.
Haru flinched instead. "It wasn't only that. I didn't want to have a kid we couldn't both pick up and hug." He shook his head disbelievingly. "I still can't believe we never talked about this at all."
"And after it broke? Why didn't you say anything?"
He took a while to answer. "I guess I didn't think you'd want to. I knew I wanted to, but I want you more, so it...didn't matter, you know?" He lay down slowly, wincing at the heat of the wooden planks. Rin settled beside him, using his hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "Are you sure?" he asked, staring up at the sky.
"I'm scared out of my mind." She felt him start to answer, and stopped him with a touch. "But this is already happening. I know I can stop it, but I..." Fresh tears welled up, stinging where her skin was raw from rubbing. "But you started loving him as soon as I told you, and you'll be so good--" She couldn't quite suppress an angry snarl at herself when the tears spilled over. "I don't think I'll be able to help loving anyone you love so much, but I suck at it."
Haru laughed. "You don't love Yuki."
"That's different," she muttered.
"I know. And I know you love so hard it hurts, sweetheart. You'll do great."
She hid her face against him without answering until she was reasonably sure the urge to cry had passed. She could hardly remember what it had been like before she woke up in Kazuma's house, before the understanding that she was safe had sunk into her bones and left her prone to crying at what seemed to her to be the least provocation. I need to stop.
"I need to be stronger," she said. "I have to be strong again."
"You never stopped being strong," Haru replied, sounding as drowsy as the insects buzzing in the flowers. "You just need to stop thinking you're not."
**********
Kazuma returned nearly an hour later with Kyo and Tohru in tow, and the three of them found Rin and Haru in the kitchen, hiding from the sun that had finally gotten too intense and driven them indoors. While Haru showered, Rin had rinsed her face and set about rearranging things. The first few times they'd visited after she'd moved out, she'd avoided offering an opinion on the increased state of chaos--impeccably clean chaos, she had to give Kunimitsu that--that the kitchen had fallen into. After two months it had become abundantly clear that there was no new system evolving to replace hers, and she'd rolled her eyes and put everything back where she'd kept it when she'd lived there.
She heard them come in, but didn't turn until she'd finished with the drawer she was organizing. "Thank you, Isuzu," Kazuma said. Rin nodded acknowledgement, but her attention was on Tohru, who was staring as if it had been years since they'd seen each other.
"I'm not going to give you an invitation." Rin tucked her hair firmly behind her ears and crossed her arms. "And I'm not about to throw myself at you like Kisa does. So you might as well come over."
"That was an invitation," Haru pointed out, watching from the other doorway as Tohru stopped staring and closed in for a hug. Rin didn't answer, too distracted by the way Tohru latched onto her and held on for dear life.
"Hey," she said, when Tohru showed no sign of letting go. "You can have more than one hug. Cut it out."
There was a nervous edge to Tohru's laugh, but all in all she was much more relaxed than Rin had expected. "Hello, Isuzu-san. I'm so glad to see you!"
"Where's your stuff?"
"What?" Tohru looked around, confused, and waved at the small suitcase at Kyo's feet. "There!"
"That's all you brought? Both of you?"
"Um...yes?"
"But you're here for over a week!"
Kyo rolled his eyes in uncanny mimicry of the way Rin did when someone was being dense. "Isuzu, you 'n' Haru have more coats than we have clothing. And we know how to do laundry." Tohru and Kazuma both gave him pointed looks, and he relented under the combination. "Plus Tohru's gonna live in her bathing suit when we get to the beach anyway."
"I ought to hang some things up," Tohru said, quickly returning to practical details.
"You decided to stay here instead of at the old place?" Haru asked.
Tohru frowned thoughtfully. "We might like to stay there sometime. But it wouldn't be like going home. Not with just the two of us."
"And here you're closer to everyone," Rin noted.
"Are we? I don't even know where you live!"
Kyo exchanged a glance with Kazuma and carried the suitcase down the hall while Tohru had Rin sketch a quick map showing how to get to their apartment. She watched intently while Rin worked, but as soon as she'd pocketed the map she made a quick apology and headed for the doorway just as Kyo returned. They didn't touch at all as they passed each other, but Rin's heart twinged at the still-shy smile they exchanged.
She didn't hesitate long before following Tohru, stopping to say, "At least you're not still blushing at each other" to Kyo. He did blush at that, but the accompanying glare lacked much heat.
Tohru looked surprised when Rin came into the room and perched on the bed, but she didn't stop moving. Open, the suitcase was no bigger than Rin had thought. It was, however, packed with meticulous efficiency. "Kyo did the packing?"
"Yes, how did you--ah. Shishou-san taught both of you?"
"When we were kids. How soon do you have to head over to the Main House?"
"Fairly soon." Tohru was facing into the closet as she spoke, smoothing creases out of a sun dress, but Rin saw her wilt. "You and Hatsuharu-san aren't coming."
"No. And please don't tell me that Gure-nii's going to be sad. He won't be surprised, and if it bothers him, he'll get over it."
"I thought maybe you two were here because you'd decided to go," Tohru said quietly. "I told Shigure-san I'd help with some things, or I'd--"
Rin interrupted before it became an apology. "We came to see you. Even if we were going to the wedding, we wouldn't be going over today. So go see everyone there and don't worry. Momiji's already been whining to Haru about us hogging you afterwards." Tohru looked profoundly unconvinced. "We'll see you soon, okay? You can live in your bathing suit and we'll..." Rin floundered, unsure what came next. "We'll do friend-stuff. All right?"
She threw the magic word out deliberately, and Tohru's face lit. "All right."
Soon we'll see each other for more than half an hour and I'll have to pretend nothing's changed since they left, Rin thought, almost grateful for the reprieve.
Or maybe we won't pretend.
Go to part 2 (DW link) or the interlude ("Every Bridge We Build", for 30_kisses theme #19).
Originally posted at http://umadoshi.dreamwidth.org/371244.html. Comment here if you like, or comment there using OpenID. Comments at DW:
(Need a Dreamwidth invite? I can probably hook you up.)
And this completes my claim. Now I get to go fall down.
Title: "Everything But the Sea" (Part 1 of 3)
Author: Ysabet MacFarlane (
umadoshi)
Pairing: Sohma Hatsuharu and Sohma Isuzu (Rin)
Fandom: Fruits Basket
Theme #5 ("ano sa"/"hey, you know...")
Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Takaya Natsuki and Hakusensha; English-language versions by FUNimation (anime) and Tokyopop (manga). This piece of fiction is in no way endorsed by or affiliated with any of the copyright holders. Please support the original work!
Notes:
- Set approximately four months post-series, and lines up with my other post-series work, but stands alone. For a few reasons, writing these has taken longer than I originally expected, and would possibly be rather different if I weren't writing to make sure things line up fairly well with things I've released over the last couple of years. (How long has it taken? Well, there was a point where I'd been working on it for a while and realized I'd have to finish it soon if I wanted my usual editor to be able to look at it before she had a baby. That "baby" is now a few months shy of her third birthday.)
- Content notes: Please consult my warnings policy if you have any concerns about potentially triggery content.
- Just to complicate things, my entry for theme #19, "Every Bridge We Build", is technically an interlude set a few pages into part 2 (DW link), but isn't required reading.
Late July 2001
**********
There were precisely three ways to deal with Ayame when he'd set his mind on something: cave immediately; smile and nod and trust that something else would catch his fancy before he expected you to follow through; or resist on the odd chance that he'd notice.
Sometimes nothing worked.
Fortunately for Haru, Ayame's attention was entirely fixated on Rin, and so far she hadn't so much as glanced at him for support. Inch by painstaking inch, she was allowing herself to ask him for help when she needed it, testing her own willingness to take it, but Haru had yet to convince her that she didn't need to hold her ground about their marriage plans alone.
The irony didn't escape him.
Ayame had come armed with weapons that he clearly thought were irresistible: lavish design sketches and a willingness to describe, in ebullient, merciless detail, exactly how Rin would look if she would only let him create her wedding dress. Air-headed he might be, but there was no doubt that he knew his business. If he had his way, Rin wouldn't be wearing any of the frothy, frilly, layered concoctions that were the pride of his store; it would be an Ayame Creation as suited to the woman as to the occasion.
Trouble was, the occasion Ayame was swooning over wasn't going to happen.
"I don't need a wedding dress," Rin was saying, in the grimmest approximation of a patient tone Haru had heard in a long time. "No dress. No wedding kimono. None of it. We're not having a wedding."
"Yes, yes," Ayame replied, almost as if he were listening, "but you're hardly about to be married naked. You must wear something."
Rin had two reasons for vetoing anything beyond legally registering their marriage. The one she explained to the few people who pressed for details was that she had no use for a gaudy Western display, and never mind that the family could afford it a thousand times over.
The other, which she only shared with Haru, was that the idea of going to a shrine and letting a priest invoke blessings and bind them to each other, even symbolically, made her break out in a cold sweat. "I've already had a god. One was enough."
Ayame, however, had long since perfected the art of ignoring anything that inconvenienced him. "If you do not allow me to design that something for you, my devastation will be absolute. It may be my only opportunity to make something for you."
Something in the air changed; Haru looked up and was met with the rare sight of Ayame being utterly serious. "I had the most exquisite notions of how to dress you for our next dance together, and now the chance will never come."
"You did not just say that." The look on Rin's face was one that had been known to send servants and not a few family members hurrying out of her way.
Ayame didn't so much as blink. "As glorious as my dance with Tori-san would have been this year, he and I were nearing adulthood during our last turn together. The golden memory of it will blaze forever in my heart! You, however... No, fondly as I remember the dance we once shared, you were too young for it, and I had only scarcely begun to realize my own genius. You would have been extraordinary had we been able to dance together next year, and I would have dressed you accordingly.
"So!" He dismissed the subject as quickly as he'd brought it up. "I should have liked to surprise you with this, but I shall, of course, require your precise measurements closer to the date--a week or two ahead, perhaps?"
"You mean you can't tell by looking?"
The icy edge to the question rolled off Ayame, who looked her over from head to toe in one brisk glance. The tiniest of creases marred his brow and disappeared again as he tossed his hair back over one shoulder. "You've dropped half a size since I saw you last."
"Why does Tori-nii have a scale in his office when he has you?"
"Goodness, yes, one does wonder. Now, I'll leave these sketches with you, and we'll be in touch. À bientôt!" He stepped into his shoes as he spoke, and was out the door with a jaunty wave.
Rin stared after him. "Did he hear a word I said?"
Haru closed the textbook he'd been pretending to read. "Nope."
She slumped to the floor beside him, covering her eyes with a hand. "He's really serious about this."
"Well...at least he kinda noticed the 'no wedding dress' part?"
Her fingers parted to allow a suspicious gaze. "You're on his side."
"Are you planning to be naked?" Brittle silence. "He had me at 'corset'."
"I have corsets. I don't need him to make me one."
"You don't have anything like he was talking about." He picked up a sketch and examined it wistfully.
"I guess I don't." A strained smile accompanied the concession. "But I don't really need to decide what to wear now, do I? We've still got a little while to worry about that stuff."
"Sure." Rin's hand was still pressed to her face, so Haru kissed the back of her wrist instead of her cheek. "Wear whatever you want. As long as I walk out of there married to you, I don't care about any of it. I just think Aya-nii's right that you'd look hot in something like that."
Her expression softened as she straightened up. "'Hot' isn't usually the idea, is it?"
"But you do it so well," he said, and she laughed.
"I promise to wear something you like, okay?"
It might have passed for lighthearted if he hadn't seen her eyes. She leaned closer and kissed him, cupping her hands around his cheeks as she got to her feet. "You're supposed to be studying," she said, and he let her leave.
**********
The word "wedding" was fraught for another reason, too, and it wasn't entirely avoidable. In just over a week Tohru and Kyo would be home for their first visit since moving away, and what Tohru had said, tentatively, was that she hoped she and Rin could spend some of the time catching up. It was Kyo and Haru who made arrangements for the four of them to visit the family's beach property--Kyo who admitted that Tohru would like it, and Haru who was willing to sort things out with the family.
It was also Kyo who'd told Rin flat-out what Tohru wouldn't: she was scared to ask because of the reason they were coming home.
"If I can deal with Gure-nii marrying her--" she never said Akito's name if she could help it "--I can deal with Tohru going to watch," Rin had snapped, and Haru prudently hadn't pointed out until later that she was "dealing with" Shigure's choice of bride by treating Shigure like a vaguely unpleasant stranger. "Of course I want to see her. Tell her not to be so damn ridiculous."
"Are you guys even going?" Kyo had asked, a hint of static crackling on the line as a summer storm moved in, and Haru had had to admit he didn't know.
**********
"Kyo and Tohru'll probably hate it," Rin said from where she stood by the window a few mornings later, "it" being her shorthand for the event being planned for the day after Shigure and Akito's wedding. The wedding itself was supposed to be a fairly private affair, but the subsequent reception was nothing of the sort. Shigure, Haru gathered, had cheerfully declined to take part in the blistering argument Akito had had over it with the family retainers. Her new sense of responsibility to the family was all well and good, they insisted, but maintaining good relations with other prominent families was part of the package. Akito had reportedly countered that if she and Shigure had to have a celebration to invite business associates to, then every member of the family who could be tracked down would be on the guest list as well. Rumor had it that some unlucky assistant-to-an-assistant had spent a mind-numbing amount of time on that sole task.
The idea of being surrounded by such a press of people rubbed Haru's nerves raw enough that, family issues aside, he sympathized more than he wanted to admit with Rin's desire to avoid the whole thing.
"Kyo never got dragged to anything formal," Rin continued, "and Tohru's family was...was..."
"Poor," Haru filled in when she trailed off uncomfortably. "Yeah, but Honda-san's more polite than all of us put together. She'll be fine if she doesn't get flustered." He wandered over to where Rin was standing and followed her gaze, fixed on the view below. "Sensei'll miss you if you don't go."
"I don't care."
"Because of him or Akito?" Rin stayed silent, forehead pressed against the window. "Rin. The head of the family's getting married. We've got to at least think about going."
"I'm not telling you not to go, so stop pushing me!" She shoved herself away from the glass, rounding on him. "I don't owe the family a thing."
"But if I go, I want you to come with me," he said, unflinching. A year earlier it would have been panic creeping across her face if he'd pressed her so hard. Six months earlier, she would have left the room. Anger was cleaner, easier to deal with. "All the family's political friends are gonna be there, and plenty of them have daughters. You know we're both still getting marriage offers, since half the family's hoping we'll change our minds."
"As long as no one tries to force us, so what? I don't care about the stupid letters and phone calls! It's not like we're the ones who have to reject the offers."
"They can still make things harder for us if they think we've made them lose face. Anyway, that's not the only reason I want you to think about it."
She visibly bit back whatever her first reaction was. "I didn't think it was."
"How long has it been since you actually saw Akito?"
"I don't know. Months."
"Well, I want her to see you. I want her to have to see you. No matter how much she's changed, she still has to live with what she did to you. I want her to see that you're alive, and I want you to see that she's just human and she can't ever hurt you again." His voice thickened as he spoke, weighed down by the unnameable feeling that still made his chest hurt whenever he thought about Akito. The rage he'd felt when he'd confronted her the day Kureno had saved Rin hadn't been enough to make him take the revenge he'd wanted; instead, when it had burned away, he'd been left with both the gut-churning memory of how it felt to truly want to kill someone and the shame of having done nothing.
"I didn't hurt her then," he'd told Rin later, not long after the curse had released them. "If I didn't hurt her when I found out she'd almost killed you, how can I do it now?"
"I'm glad you couldn't," she'd replied.
"But do you wish I had?"
That question had gone unanswered. Then, as now, Rin had walked away.
**********
Knowing that Haru was leaving her alone to pull herself together in private if she wanted to was maddening, but Rin made herself take advantage of it. She spent the next ten minutes circling the small room Haru insisted on referring to as her "studio", tidying things that didn't need it and trying to calm down.
"I'm not angry," she said when he finally came to the door. "I just needed a minute."
"I know. I didn't want to go to school without saying goodbye." Haru took it as an invitation to come in, and met her at the window, laying his hand over hers. His fingers stroked lightly between her tendons, his thumb slipping down against her wrist to feel her pulse. "Either way, things'll be better after all this is over. I know you need a break." His voice hitched, enough to make her glance up. Enough to make her look. The weariness on his face hit her like a slap.
How long has it been since I looked him in the eye?
"Getting out of the city sounds nice." Breathe, she told herself. "It'll be good to see Tohru. And Kyo," she added as an afterthought, still unused to the idea of willingly spending time with him. "Away from here."
"Yeah."
"What about Yuki? Will you get to see him before we leave? Or is he staying for a while?"
"He's gonna be spending a lot of time with Kuragi, but we'll figure something out."
Rin leaned back against the window, resisting the urge to rub her eyes. Closing them was all it took to bring on waves of exhaustion, and Haru was watching, always watching... "That's good. I know you've been missing him." Guilt knotted in her stomach, crept up into her throat. "You really feel like you have to go?"
His eyes lost focus, made it a little easier to breathe. "I think it'd be good for all of us to be together sometimes."
"And you want me and Akito to see each other."
"I won't let her touch you," Haru said. "But it's...I don't know, you've seemed more...more scared lately, even though you haven't seen her. You were saying her name when I woke you up from a nightmare the other night." He hesitated, gathering his thoughts. "I don't know. I know you've pretty much stopped going out again. I know you've barely let me touch you in weeks. I know I'll do anything to make you feel safe again, but lately I don't know what you need."
"I always let you touch me," she protested.
"Rin, come on. I can tell when you don't want me to touch you."
"I want you to." He let her pull him against her, resting his head on her shoulder. "I want to touch you." The familiar smell of his skin was soothing, and his hair was soft under her cheek; she buried her fingers in it, holding him tightly. "Things'll be better soon."
He nodded without relaxing, and slowly straightened up. "I'll be late if I don't get going."
"I know." Rin put her hands on his shoulders for balance, and he bent far enough for her to kiss him; the way he responded--not hesitant, but passive--made her sick with anger at herself. She channeled the heat of it back into the kiss, irrationally wishing she could ask him to skip class, that she could find a way to touch him that didn't offer more than felt safe to give. "See you when you get home."
**********
The alarm she had made sure to set before she gave in and went back to bed almost didn't wake her in time for her afternoon appointment. Only having already chosen what she was going to wear let her get out the door quickly; picking outfits had started taking more effort than she liked, but going near the family estate meant dressing carefully. Not for the first time that week, Rin wished fervently that her destination were anywhere else in the city.
Running late and already worn out from the heat and the not-quite-argument with Haru, she made the mistake of wondering if the day could possibly get any worse.
Coming across Akito and Shigure on a street half a kilometer from the Main House--when they were accompanied by four strangers who saw Akito notice her and abruptly stop talking, so that Rin couldn't quite pretend not to know them--was proof enough that the day wasn't through with her.
If Shigure's wave had been an overt summons, she might have simply run. As it was, she found herself frozen, watching their approach.
She didn't register the strangers' names as Shigure introduced them, his voice affable in the way that meant he was enjoying...something. Rin couldn't imagine what. But she didn't have to listen to know they were from families tied to the Sohmas by business and favors and all the other infinite chains of social obligation that made the family powerful.
More than anything, it was that power that made her bow slowly, keeping a wary eye on their reaction through demurely lowered lashes. Some of the freedoms Akito had promised all of the once-Jyuunishi could still be taken away.
Her body knew precisely how far to bend, how to maintain the smooth line of her neck while she dipped her head in greeting; she left it to its own devices and concentrated only on not letting them see her teeth grit with anger and terror.
"Honored guests. Akito," she acknowledged, voice perfectly empty, letting the strangers make their own judgment on whether Akito's unadorned name bespoke intimacy or contempt. She ignored Shigure.
"My second cousin," Akito said, and Rin lifted her head in time to see the speculative looks the strange men were giving her. "Sohma Isuzu."
"We're having quite the year for weddings," Shigure said, all pleasantness. "She's also getting married this summer."
"Congratulations," one of the men said, and Rin nodded, not at all sure what the results would be if she tried to force a smile. Possibly vomiting, if the way her stomach hurt was any indication. "We'll look forward to seeing you again," he continued, for all the world as if he intended to stand there and carry on a conversation.
"Excuse me," she said, not quite interrupting. "I have to be going." Aware of Akito's eyes on her, she dug deep into the reserve of willpower that had, more than once, been all that kept her on her feet. It held her still for long enough for the man to nod understandingly, and kept her from running instead of walking as she left.
It didn't keep her from jerking away when Shigure fell in step beside her, pacing her casually as she turned a corner to escape Akito's line of sight. "Get away from me!" she hissed, stopping dead.
He studied her as if she hadn't spoken. "No one said you had to play nice, you know."
"The second Haru and I are married, this stupid game is over."
"No one's going to interfere with you."
"I'm not taking that chance." She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking at him. "Why the hell should I trust you?"
"Because I've never lied to you?"
"Shigure." If he reacted to her use of his full name, she didn't see it. "I mean it. Get away from me."
The flicker of movement she glimpsed from the corner of her eye was the only sign that he'd left; Kyo wasn't the only one of them who could move soundlessly. When she was sure he was gone, Rin fished out her cell phone and called ahead to say she was running late.
It was another ten minutes before she trusted herself enough to step away from the wall she'd been leaning against and carry on her way.
**********
Rin drummed her fingers on her thigh, the only fidgeting she was willing to allow herself while she waited. One thing usually led to another, and she didn't have the energy to pace. "The doctor's a bit behind schedule," the receptionist had said apologetically, gesturing down the hall. "Go make yourself comfortable."
The room wasn't quite as plush as most doctors' offices Rin had been in--and she had no illusions about where the money for that comfort usually came from--but there were small touches that kept it from being austere: flowers on the windowsill, paintings on the walls, crayon scribblings from small children. Kana didn't seem to be drawing on the family resources for her practice, but it was as close to cozy and welcoming as possible. Tori-nii could take a few notes from her, Rin thought, wishing her fingers weren't so set on betraying her nerves.
On the other hand, Hatori was never late.
A sound on the other side of the door made her clasp her hands on her lap, squeezing them to stillness as Kana came in. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting," Kana said, taking a clipboard from the desk and glancing at it. "I was--oh!"
"I was late anyway," Rin said, wondering whether the fact that Kana had married out of the family meant they might skip the usual pleasantries that came up when Sohmas met for the first time.
"Sohma Isuzu?" Kana said as she sat, only half questioning. "I was a Sohma before I got married."
"I'm aware of that, yes." Clearly the odds of forestalling that discussion were slim.
"Well, then, I'm pleased to meet you," Kana said brightly. "I don't think I've ever had a relation for a patient, actually. My first practice was up north, and we're still getting established here." She set the clipboard down again. "May I use your given name? Saying 'Sohma-san' to relatives I haven't met before always strikes me as odd."
"I usually go to Hatori. And you can call me whatever you want."
"Hatori-san, of course!" Kana's smile widened. "I was actually his assistant when I first started out, but I haven't run into him since I moved back here." Rin winced, dreading the inevitable rush of nostalgia, but Kana surprised her: she paused for a moment, took a closer look at the form Rin had filled out, and switched gears without batting an eye. "So what brings you to me, Isuzu-san? Is it just that you feel more comfortable talking to a woman? I'm sure Hatori-san--"
Rin shook her head. "He's known me my whole life. It felt too weird." The explanation was entirely true, and entirely beside the point. "Are there a bunch of questions you need to ask?"
If Kana took offense, she didn't show it. "Some," she said, and got down to business. "How old are you?"
"I'll be twenty next month."
Kana wrote it down without comment, and Rin lowered her eyes, waiting for the next question. Her impression of Hatori's former fiancée had been colored so strongly by the stories of a nervous breakdown that it was disconcerting to be met with such cheerful competence. She inhaled deeply, glad that the scent of the flowers on the sill smothered any more medicinal smells.
The next few answers were straightforward: that it had been four months since she'd had a checkup; that she hadn't had any unusual results from blood work or other tests; that she had never been pregnant before; that she thought she was six and a half weeks pregnant now.
Kana stopped writing. "That's a very precise estimate."
"Six weeks and five days," Rin clarified, saying aloud what she had barely allowed herself to think for most of those weeks.
Kana made a note. "You aren't sexually active very often, then?" Rin stared at her. "I'm sorry, I thought--for you to know so specifically--"
"Not very often lately." Not at all.
"I see. Well, I should take a look at you. Have you had an ultrasound before?"
Rin let herself be walked through the preparation, and it wasn't until she was leaning back and waiting that Kana said, "If everything seems fine and you feel up to it, it's perfectly safe for you to have a normal sex life."
"I understand," Rin said, when an answer seemed to be expected; she closed her eyes against the fluorescent glare of the lights, and said nothing else.
After what seemed like an interminable round of minor discomfort, she heard Kana ask, "Do you want to look?"
"Look...?" There was a faint glow through her eyelids when she turned her head towards Kana's voice.
"At the screen."
Her mouth went dry. "No. Just tell me when you're done."
Afterwards, when she'd carefully put her clothes back in order and taken a seat, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor. "Everything looks fine," Kana said gently. "I think you're right about how far along you are. Do you know what you want to do?"
"You mean, do I want to have it?"
"Yes."
"I promised him I wouldn't keep secrets anymore." She barely heard herself speaking, saying more than she'd intended. "He...the father doesn't know. And I promised."
"I see." That was all Kana said for a few moments, long enough for Rin to realize that she had no idea how Hatori would have responded to the same information. She was sure it would have been quite different. Kana's silence was thoughtful and unobtrusive, and too short to let Rin get entirely lost in her own thoughts. "I gather you're planning to tell him?"
"Yes."
"All right." Kana produced a blank piece of paper and began writing. "The sooner you decide what you're going to do, the better, no matter what you choose." The page was filling quickly. "I want you to make a follow-up appointment and follow these instructions. They'll be good for you regardless."
Rin took the paper without trying to read it. "Is that all?"
Kana sat back. "If I may be frank, Isuzu-san, you don't look as if you'd absorb a single thing I told you right now."
Without thinking, Rin said, "Tori-nii would make me listen."
"I'm sure he would. But all I want you to do right now is go home and try to get yourself into a place where you can think clearly, all right? Read what I wrote down and call me if you have any questions. At this stage it boils down to doing your best to take care of yourself."
But what if I don't know how? Instead of saying it aloud, she got to her feet with a nod. "I'll try."
**********
It took her two more days of the truth sticking in her throat, crushing her chest when she imagined telling him. Two full days; it was well past midnight when she realized she'd been staring at the same moonlit patch of wall for nearly an hour, curled on her side. Not unusual, but Haru's unmistakable wakefulness behind her was.
She asked anyway. "Are you asleep?"
"No."
"Will you hold me for a little while?"
"Sure."
He came to her when she didn't move, wrapping his arms loosely around her. Rin shivered and leaned back into his embrace, trying to time her breathing with the soft beat of his heart against her spine. And the words came. "I'm pregnant, you know."
"You're--" His grip on her tightened. "Are you sure?"
"Very sure."
Haru's hands found hers in the dark. "Do you know how far along you are?"
"Kana-san said about seven weeks."
"You already saw her?" If her choice of doctor struck him as unusual, he didn't comment.
"I wanted to be sure before I told you," she said--too sharp, too quick.
"Pregnant," he whispered, lifting his head to press his cheek against her temple. "I didn't know."
"How were you supposed to know?" Her voice sounded too loud; even the traffic seemed to have died down. "I haven't been getting sick, just tired. And my cycles are still all messed up--"
"We got careless." His thumb circled the sharp bone of her wrist. "And you're still too thin..."
Rin sucked in a breath, torn between trying to pull away and rolling over to cling to him. "Please don't talk around this."
"This has been happening for almost two months, and I didn't even notice...?"
"Haru--"
"Are you asking how I feel about it?" She nodded, shutting her eyes at the feel of his mouth touching the nape of her neck, wishing she could pretend it was desire making him tremble against her. "I feel like I always notice little things about you and miss the big things. And I feel like an idiot because we've been sleeping together for years and never talked about this."
"You know there was never anything to talk about before."
His reply came slowly, as if he were weighing each word. "Because I didn't want to think about it." His side of their unspoken bargain: Tell me the truth, and I'll never look away from it again. "Because I didn't want to admit I knew you'd have an abortion if this happened."
"You were only fifteen."
"Yeah. Well. Now I'm older than you were then, and I--" He shifted, kissed the top of her head. "--I think I'm scared."
"I can still--"
"I'm scared," he repeated. "And part of me is happy, and I'm afraid to be happy about it if you don't want to keep it."
Rin kept her eyes fixed on the patch of moonlight, on the soft edges where it melted into the shadows. "Kana-san said the sooner we decide, the better."
"Okay. It's okay, we'll figure it out." Unbearably gentle hands turned her onto her back. "Come here, love," he said, as if she weren't already reaching for him, aching for the comfort of his arms. "What're you feeling?"
"I don't know," she said. "The things I'm thinking don't make any sense."
"Like what?"
"Like..." Finding the right words to explain was a different problem than forcing simple facts out of her mouth. "You know how Mama--my parents used to lock me in my room." His pulse quickened; she rested her forehead against his throat, obscurely comforted. "Sometimes Daddy hurt me first if he was mad enough, but they never came into my room with me. I hated it in there, but at least I was safe. I was alone.
"Except I wasn't. All of you were there with me somewhere." Haru's lips moved against her head, breathing her name into her hair. "And then it was the same when Akito...when I was supposed to be all alone in my mind and I wasn't. That's how this feels. My body's the only place where I've always been alone, and now I'm not." Please understand.
"You can feel it?" Awe tinged his voice.
"I told myself I was imagining it." She pulled away from him, taking his hand as she sat up. "And I didn't know what to tell you. I don't think I'm ready for this."
The stillness of the night almost swallowed his reply. "To talk about it, or..."
"Either." She found herself resting her free hand over her stomach and moved it away, digging her fingers into the futon. "But what if I never am?"
"I don't know."
"I can't even convince myself it's safe to be in a room with Akito," she whispered.
Behind her, Haru sat up too. "She doesn't have anything to do with us."
"That's not what you've been saying all summer." Before he could answer, she shook her head. "Maybe you were right. I don't know. We can't just stop being who we are. We'll be wearing our name for the rest of our lives."
"We don't get to take Kyo's way out and ditch it when we get married, huh?" Calmer now, he kissed her neck soothingly. "Rin, it's the middle of the night. We don't have to decide anything right this minute."
She let him draw her back down, not commenting on how carefully he arranged himself around her. "I'm glad you told me," he said quietly, just as she closed her eyes. "Thank you for that."
**********
Three days later, no decisions had been made. Rin wasn't sure whether she was leaving Haru time to think or whether he was giving it to her, but neither of them uttered a word about anything more significant than what to have for breakfast.
Whenever Rin had looked at Haru during those days, she saw him through a familiar double vision. No matter what he was doing--studying, watching the television dramas he got absorbed in, sitting beside her on the low wall near their apartment complex, where she liked to people-watch--he was also unnaturally still. It reminded her of the first month or two when they'd been rebuilding their relationship, the way he'd tried so hard not to push against the new boundaries she was shaping for herself, his desperate trust that she wouldn't go out of his reach.
It had been hard for him then, and she knew it was hard for him now. It showed in the absent way he touched his jewelry, in the way he held unformed metal and stared at it as if he was waiting for it to show him what shape it was meant to take.
Or maybe that was how he'd always approached crafting things; she'd rarely seen his process before they lived together, only the final results when he'd slipped them around her wrists or throat or into his own earlobes.
**********
The day of Tohru and Kyo's arrival was blisteringly hot, overwhelming enough that Rin grudgingly admitted she didn't have the energy to go with Kazuma to meet their train. Instead, she'd opted--sensibly, Haru thought--to call Kazuma and ask if she and Haru could go to his house and wait there.
The truth was that it wasn't much cooler there than in their apartment, but there was enough of a breeze in the back garden to make it more than worth arriving early to avoid traveling across town in the day's full heat.
Rin hadn't intended to fall asleep, but her body rarely gave her much choice anymore. Kazuma merely raised an eyebrow when she started nodding off over lunch and reminded her that there was still a bed in the room she'd lived in until only four months ago.
She kept sleep at bay a little while longer, long enough for Haru and Kazuma to decide that an impromptu lesson was just the thing to spend the hour until Kazuma had to leave for the station. "Of course," she said, in feigned disbelief. "How else could you possibly want to spend a disgustingly hot day like this?"
Haru was unfazed. "If I'm gonna get all sweaty anyway, I might as well work for it.”
After a moment's thought, Rin decided it was a better idea to go with them to the dojo rather than napping in her old room. She'd never felt inclined to study with Kazuma beyond the basic self-defense he'd taught her, moves carefully chosen to minimize the risk of upper body contact between a Jyuunishi and an attacker--"If someone jumps me and makes me transform they'll regret it anyway," she'd said, ruthlessly practical at thirteen and aware of the damage hooves could do--but the atmosphere in the dojo was comforting when it wasn't packed full of eager students.
She made herself comfortable in a corner, and when she asked, Haru gave her the necklace and bracelets and shirt he'd taken off. She put the jewelry on and folded the shirt under her head, and was asleep almost before she'd leaned all the way back against the walls.
**********
The dream was a dream. She knew because it told her so.
"You're dreaming, of course, child," said the Horse, standing stock-still perhaps two meters away, staring at her through the swirl of tastefully but richly-dressed people who were mingling, cutting business deals in languages she didn't understand. "Have some wine."
"I'm still nineteen," Rin said, and the Horse laughed at her.
"What do a few weeks matter?" It was beside her, impossibly fleet, offering her a glass it wasn't holding. "Better a little taste now than too much of one later." Chestnut flanks heaved and steamed as if it had run a long, long way, and Rin accepted the wine, staring at the warm, ruddy sheen of the Horse's neck. "Drink it, but not too deeply."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Take care not to waste your life trying to forget." Something like invisible hands spun her around so she was facing the crowd, the low whispers and sidelong stares of people judging her for the hunger they felt when they saw her. The dress Ayame had created for her was exactly what she would have asked for if she'd had the words: red so dark it bordered on black; the neckline higher than she'd worn since leaving school. Nearly all the detail work was in the sleeves, in the bits of fabric coiling around her arms.
Behind her, the Horse nickered and nuzzled her spine, a velvet caress along her scar; the intimate, careless touch of something that had worn her body like a mask. It was excruciating, made more so by the obvious fondness of the gesture. She stared back at the assembled mass of people, too on edge to protest.
Will you also fear your son's touch once he no longer inhabits your flesh? This time the voice was in her mind, not her ears; she flinched at how familiar, how comfortable, it felt.
The touch changed with a palpable sigh when she didn't respond, became Haru's hand on the back of her neck. "How many of them want to put a ring on your finger?" he asked, following her gaze. "They want all of us. We're the ones the family didn't put on display. They've never seen us up close and they've never dreamed of touching us." He took the glass of wine from her and drank one slow sip. "That guy thinks he wants me for his daughter." Rin followed his gaze to a middle-aged man, hair graying at the temples, who averted his eyes when he saw them looking. "Really he just wants me."
"I know." She did. They all knew the look of someone who'd been captivated by the too-perfect beauty the curse had given them. She reclaimed the wine and took a single mouthful. Garnet-red in the glass, it turned to sake in her mouth.
She set the glass down on the table she knew was behind her. "Tell him you don't want her. Or him."
"Okay."
Her knees buckled when he kissed her; she grabbed for the edge of the table with both hands, clinging to it until she regained her balance, and because it was a dream she kissed him back, mouth and cheek and ear, tasting the salt of his skin and the metal of his earrings, not caring who saw. Wanting them to see. He made a sound she hadn't heard in far too long, shaped it into words and defiance. "I'm yours. They can't have me."
The fabric of her dress had become something like ribbons. They parted under his touch, letting his hands find bare skin. His fingers were almost uncomfortably hot on her spine, or maybe the heat was under her skin; when she inhaled her lungs burned, making her gasp--
--as if she had run a long, long way--
--and Haru lifted his head, looked past her, and said, "You can't have me."
Akito's voice sent an entirely different tremor through her. "I know."
"And you can't have her." His hands pulled the ribbons of the dress apart where they'd woven together over her back, exposing the mark Akito had left on her for all the assembled guests to see. "Look at her," he whispered in Rin's ear, impossibly tender fury. He kissed her again, filling her mouth with the taste of the sake they'd shared in the presence of the only god they'd ever known. "Make her see you."
Rin turned to look, and light filled her eyes.
**********
"Bad dream?" Haru asked. Rin opened her eyes to see him sitting beside her and immediately closed them against the diffuse sunlight that was setting the dojo walls aglow.
"I--" She moved closer, resting her forehead against his collarbone, blinking until her eyes adjusted. "I'm not sure. Did you wake me up?"
"Huh?" Haru traced the part in her hair with his fingertips. "No. Shihan left a little while ago, so I've been catching my breath." His hand settled against her cheek, nudging her head so he could see her face. "Are you all right?"
"I can't go." Her lips felt frozen and heavy, making her shiver in the heat. "I can't do it, Haru." It was his turn to shut his eyes, his face going still while he thought. "I promise I won't be angry if you go," she added.
"Not without you."
"If you feel like you ought to--"
"Rin." He cut her off gently. "I won't choose anyone over you. Not the others, and especially not Akito."
A smile and a frown warred for control of her mouth. "You're taking 'no' for an answer because I'm pregnant, aren't you?" It was the first time either of them had said the words since she'd first told him. Haru took her hands and squeezed, half-lifting her to her feet as he stood up.
"That's part of it. I mean, that's not why, but it explains why." Baffled, she waited for clarification. "I knew things had been hard for you lately, but I didn't know how, so..." He trailed off and regrouped his thoughts. "I still think you should see her. But right now it seems like it'd make things harder for you, not easier."
She freed her hands and slipped an arm through his, leading him to the door and the fresh, if thick, air. "I should have told you sooner."
"Maybe." Bright sun hit their faces; Haru tilted his head back with a sigh. "I don't have an answer for that."
His lack of jewelry made him look more naked to her than the absence of the shirt they'd left inside. "Sit down," Rin said, nodding at the highest of the three steps leading up to the doorway. When he obeyed, she knelt on the middle stair, reaching behind her head to undo the necklace she'd borrowed. Haru leaned forward to let her secure it around his throat before he retrieved the too-loose bracelets from her wrists.
"We have to talk about this, lovely girl," he said.
"I know." She took a slow, aching breath and sat down on the step below him, leaning back between his thighs. "Remember how we used to come here all the time when Kazuma was away?"
"Yeah. We were practically kids."
"It was nice." She could hardly hear her own voice. "You want to keep him, don't you?"
"I think so," he said, and if the words were uncertain, his tone wasn't.
"You'd barely be out of school."
"Does that matter? I'm not going to college anyway, and money's the one thing we don't have to worry about."
"Sohma blood money," Rin said bitterly.
"We haven't been turning it down. Are we gonna start saying no? We can. But I can't think of a better use for it." His hands settled on her shoulders, rubbing at the knots that inevitably tried to form there. "What do you want to do?"
"I don't know." Her throat hurt, as if the tension Haru was trying to alleviate was making a new home there. "I can't even think about it. It's really messing with my head, and I know we have to decide soon, but that's the only thing I'm sure about."
"Want to know what I know?" He reached down to take her hand, waiting until she nodded. "I know I think we can do this. I know I'll love you just as much if you decide we can't. And I know I'm scared, too." He slipped his other arm around her, holding her loosely against him. "You wouldn't be so freaked out if you flat-out didn't want to keep it, would you?" he asked. "What part's scaring you so badly?"
"What if I hurt him?"
"What?" He straightened up in astonishment; Rin tightened her grip convulsively on his hand.
"What if I hurt him?" she repeated, her voice strengthening. "Why wouldn't I? It's the only thing I know how to do. I know how to scream and hit and walk away and that's all, I don't..."
"Oh, god," he murmured when she faltered. "Rin. No." She didn't answer. "There's no way. You're not like your parents."
"We don't know what they were like before I was born."
"No, and I don't care. I know you."
"There's nothing about me that would make a good mother."
"Rin." He tried to turn her to face him, and she went rigid, shaking her head. "I wouldn't love you like this if you had that in you." Her grip had loosened; he slid his hand free and stroked her face, touching the expression she wouldn't show him. His hand came to rest over her closed eyes. "Do you know why I love you?"
"No." In that moment, it was unfathomable. She sat perfectly still while Haru's arms went around her, holding her as if he thought she might fall apart.
"I don't even know how to make you understand," he said. "I love everything about you, and I know you, and I promise you're not like your mother. Trust me on that, if you won't trust yourself." His forehead was hot against the back of her neck. "Don't cry."
She hadn't realized she was, and it was a long time before she was able to stop. Haru held her without saying anything else. Years of practice made her cry almost silently--a mixed blessing. The effort of it made her muscles seize and cramp, but her own silence let her hear and slowly focus on something outside herself. She latched onto the sound of the garden's sun-drunk insects, the ragged sound of Haru breathing as if he wanted to cry too and didn't dare. Bit by bit, she dragged herself under control.
"This is up to you," Haru said finally, loosening his hold on her so she could rest her head on his thigh. "You know that, right?"
"But you want him--" she began, swiping her knuckles angrily at her eyes.
"Yeah, I do. But if you don't, it's not fair to anybody."
Her arms shook when she pushed herself upright, turning to face him. "Haru--"
"I can't do it." His eyes were clear and unwavering. "I'm glad your parents had you--I'm so glad--but our family's done enough damage, having kids they don't want. I won't do it to ours."
"He's ours," she said, tasting the words as much as saying them to him.
"Yeah. Exactly."
"You'd stop me, right?"
"Stop you from--" He broke off, realizing what she meant. "I'm not like your mother either." The look he gave her spoke volumes. "Do you really think I'd want this if I thought you were capable of hurting a kid?"
"No," she said, unable to keep a quiver out of her voice.
"Good." A fraction of the strain around his eyes eased. "I'd never, ever want you to think that. But yes, I'd stop you."
She leaned closer, close enough that they were breathing together. "I'm strong enough to carry you now," he'd said, what seemed like a lifetime ago. "Let me carry you when you can't walk any further." He'd already changed by then, when she hadn't been looking; the whimsical, distracted boy she'd fallen in love with had grown into a man, however young, who'd stared into the heart of his own weakness and chosen to leave it behind.
"Okay," she said.
It took him a moment to realize what she meant, and longer to believe it. "Are you sure?"
"You really think we can do it?"
"Yeah." Relief flooded his voice. "I do."
"You've thought about this, haven't you?" She hitched herself up to sit beside him on the top step. "Not just this week, I mean."
"Of course." He put an arm around her shoulders, obviously unwilling to break contact, and Rin tucked herself against his side. "I just didn't think we could, until the curse broke."
"Well, Akito would've killed us," she said, and for once didn't flinch as she said the name.
Haru flinched instead. "It wasn't only that. I didn't want to have a kid we couldn't both pick up and hug." He shook his head disbelievingly. "I still can't believe we never talked about this at all."
"And after it broke? Why didn't you say anything?"
He took a while to answer. "I guess I didn't think you'd want to. I knew I wanted to, but I want you more, so it...didn't matter, you know?" He lay down slowly, wincing at the heat of the wooden planks. Rin settled beside him, using his hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "Are you sure?" he asked, staring up at the sky.
"I'm scared out of my mind." She felt him start to answer, and stopped him with a touch. "But this is already happening. I know I can stop it, but I..." Fresh tears welled up, stinging where her skin was raw from rubbing. "But you started loving him as soon as I told you, and you'll be so good--" She couldn't quite suppress an angry snarl at herself when the tears spilled over. "I don't think I'll be able to help loving anyone you love so much, but I suck at it."
Haru laughed. "You don't love Yuki."
"That's different," she muttered.
"I know. And I know you love so hard it hurts, sweetheart. You'll do great."
She hid her face against him without answering until she was reasonably sure the urge to cry had passed. She could hardly remember what it had been like before she woke up in Kazuma's house, before the understanding that she was safe had sunk into her bones and left her prone to crying at what seemed to her to be the least provocation. I need to stop.
"I need to be stronger," she said. "I have to be strong again."
"You never stopped being strong," Haru replied, sounding as drowsy as the insects buzzing in the flowers. "You just need to stop thinking you're not."
**********
Kazuma returned nearly an hour later with Kyo and Tohru in tow, and the three of them found Rin and Haru in the kitchen, hiding from the sun that had finally gotten too intense and driven them indoors. While Haru showered, Rin had rinsed her face and set about rearranging things. The first few times they'd visited after she'd moved out, she'd avoided offering an opinion on the increased state of chaos--impeccably clean chaos, she had to give Kunimitsu that--that the kitchen had fallen into. After two months it had become abundantly clear that there was no new system evolving to replace hers, and she'd rolled her eyes and put everything back where she'd kept it when she'd lived there.
She heard them come in, but didn't turn until she'd finished with the drawer she was organizing. "Thank you, Isuzu," Kazuma said. Rin nodded acknowledgement, but her attention was on Tohru, who was staring as if it had been years since they'd seen each other.
"I'm not going to give you an invitation." Rin tucked her hair firmly behind her ears and crossed her arms. "And I'm not about to throw myself at you like Kisa does. So you might as well come over."
"That was an invitation," Haru pointed out, watching from the other doorway as Tohru stopped staring and closed in for a hug. Rin didn't answer, too distracted by the way Tohru latched onto her and held on for dear life.
"Hey," she said, when Tohru showed no sign of letting go. "You can have more than one hug. Cut it out."
There was a nervous edge to Tohru's laugh, but all in all she was much more relaxed than Rin had expected. "Hello, Isuzu-san. I'm so glad to see you!"
"Where's your stuff?"
"What?" Tohru looked around, confused, and waved at the small suitcase at Kyo's feet. "There!"
"That's all you brought? Both of you?"
"Um...yes?"
"But you're here for over a week!"
Kyo rolled his eyes in uncanny mimicry of the way Rin did when someone was being dense. "Isuzu, you 'n' Haru have more coats than we have clothing. And we know how to do laundry." Tohru and Kazuma both gave him pointed looks, and he relented under the combination. "Plus Tohru's gonna live in her bathing suit when we get to the beach anyway."
"I ought to hang some things up," Tohru said, quickly returning to practical details.
"You decided to stay here instead of at the old place?" Haru asked.
Tohru frowned thoughtfully. "We might like to stay there sometime. But it wouldn't be like going home. Not with just the two of us."
"And here you're closer to everyone," Rin noted.
"Are we? I don't even know where you live!"
Kyo exchanged a glance with Kazuma and carried the suitcase down the hall while Tohru had Rin sketch a quick map showing how to get to their apartment. She watched intently while Rin worked, but as soon as she'd pocketed the map she made a quick apology and headed for the doorway just as Kyo returned. They didn't touch at all as they passed each other, but Rin's heart twinged at the still-shy smile they exchanged.
She didn't hesitate long before following Tohru, stopping to say, "At least you're not still blushing at each other" to Kyo. He did blush at that, but the accompanying glare lacked much heat.
Tohru looked surprised when Rin came into the room and perched on the bed, but she didn't stop moving. Open, the suitcase was no bigger than Rin had thought. It was, however, packed with meticulous efficiency. "Kyo did the packing?"
"Yes, how did you--ah. Shishou-san taught both of you?"
"When we were kids. How soon do you have to head over to the Main House?"
"Fairly soon." Tohru was facing into the closet as she spoke, smoothing creases out of a sun dress, but Rin saw her wilt. "You and Hatsuharu-san aren't coming."
"No. And please don't tell me that Gure-nii's going to be sad. He won't be surprised, and if it bothers him, he'll get over it."
"I thought maybe you two were here because you'd decided to go," Tohru said quietly. "I told Shigure-san I'd help with some things, or I'd--"
Rin interrupted before it became an apology. "We came to see you. Even if we were going to the wedding, we wouldn't be going over today. So go see everyone there and don't worry. Momiji's already been whining to Haru about us hogging you afterwards." Tohru looked profoundly unconvinced. "We'll see you soon, okay? You can live in your bathing suit and we'll..." Rin floundered, unsure what came next. "We'll do friend-stuff. All right?"
She threw the magic word out deliberately, and Tohru's face lit. "All right."
Soon we'll see each other for more than half an hour and I'll have to pretend nothing's changed since they left, Rin thought, almost grateful for the reprieve.
Or maybe we won't pretend.
Go to part 2 (DW link) or the interlude ("Every Bridge We Build", for 30_kisses theme #19).
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