Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ History, Like Love ❯ In the Darkness of November ( Chapter 4 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

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"History, Like Love"
a Fruits Basket fanfic by Ysabet MacFarlane (ba087@chebucto.ns.ca)

Chapter Four: "In the Darkness of November" [4/6]

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"and now I speak to you are you in there
you have her face and her eyes
but you are not her"
--Tori Amos, "Bells For Her" (Under the Pink)
*********


It took him until late afternoon to find a chance to approach her away from her
classmates, when she was sitting off by herself with a cup of coffee and a
sketchbook. He sat down only a few feet away, closer than he'd been to her in
almost a year. The proximity was enough that when she looked up and noticed
him, her eyes didn't immediately skitter away. The now-familiar puzzled look
settled on her face and stayed.

"Can I help you?"

Haru's skin prickled at her tone, at the lack of some subtle inflection that had
always flavored her voice before. The question was only mildly curious, but her
gaze was steady. "You're--" His own voice caught in his throat on the first
try. "You're Sohma Isuzu-san?"

She looked over his shoulder and he winced, assuming she'd stopped registering
him. But her attention came back at the same moment Satoru passed him and sat
beside her, fixing him with a less than friendly glance. Rin gave him a quick
smile and turned back to Haru. "That's me."

"You're the high school student who's checking the campus out?" Satoru asked,
and Haru realized belatedly that Rin's obliviousness to his scrutiny didn't mean
her boyfriend hadn't noticed. "I've seen you around the last few days."

Haru nodded. "Yeah. I'm here for a couple of reasons." He looked back at Rin,
waiting until she met his eyes. "I'm Sohma Hatsuharu." *Find a crack in the
conditioning. Or make one.*

"Pleased to meet you," she said automatically, with no change whatsoever to her
expression--not even recognition of his family name. Beside her, Satoru
blinked.

"You said 'Sohma'?"

"Yeah." Haru took a pen off the table and wrote the kanji on a napkin, turning
it to show them. "Same as her." Rin reached out and touched it, not quite
taking it, and he let go. "Is there somewhere I can talk to you? It's kind of
important--family business." It was the only natural thing to say--every Sohma
of their generation, raised within the walls of the Main House, knew what it
meant. Jyuunishi business, and secret, and important enough to set aside
arguments or annoyances until it was dealt with. Rin got up without hesitation,
gathering her notes up into her book.

"We can go down by the studio. It's not being used tonight."

Satoru touched her arm as Haru stood too. "Isuzu, do you know him?"

"No." She stopped, blinking at the floor in bewilderment. "I don't, I just--he
reminded me of--what's your name?"

"Hatsuharu."

"I think I should go with you," Satoru said, watching her lips shaping Haru's
name, as if repeating it would make it stick. Rin nodded before Haru could
think of a way to protest; he shrugged reluctant agreement and followed them,
unable to avoid noticing the subtle possessiveness in the way Satoru glanced
back at him as he took her books for her.

*It's not like this doesn't affect him,* Haru thought grudgingly. And it was
probably helpful to have someone else there, making it harder for Rin's brain to
simply filter him out.

The dance studio was dark, and Rin didn't go inside; instead, she ducked into an
alcove and leaned back against the wall with her arms loosely crossed. "So
you're--" For a moment she visibly blanked, shaking her head while her lips
pursed in annoyance. Watching her notice and resist the block on her thoughts
was enough to make Haru smile to himself; even more heartening was that she
picked up on his relief. "--you're a distant relative or something?"

"Fourth cousin twice removed," Haru said automatically.

Rin stared at him, curiosity turning to polite skepticism. "Uh huh. That's
pretty distant. Is this some kind of weird inheritance issue?"

"No."

"Then what inspired you to come looking for someone you haven't even met?"

"I'm looking for my ex-girlfriend."

"And you're here because... " She trailed off at the look on his face, and
slowly paled. "Get out."

"I need to talk to you."

"You're obviously confusing me with someone else--"

"Sohma Isuzu," Haru said quietly. "You're nineteen. You grew up about eight
hours from here, went to a private girls' school, had no close friends."

Satoru finally spoke again. "I think you need to leave."

"You left home to go to college, and here you are, with a far-away family you
never think about, no friends back home to keep in touch with, and no memory at
all of me."

"I told you to get out."

"The last few times you told me to get out, I did. But you won't remember
that."

"Are you out of your MIND?" Anger flushed her cheeks, and for a moment it was
almost his Rin looking back at him. Haru fell silent, staring at her: casually
dressed, hoops in her earlobes, a few braids too short to be anything but
decorative plaited into the hair around her face. Rin. But Rin as she might
have been in another life.

He turned to Satoru, suddenly unable to look at her. "Do you have a good
memory?"

The question clearly took him aback. "Average, I guess--"

"If I asked you, could you tell me about the day you left home? Or your
birthdays? Or how you spent New Year's when you were growing up?" Haru closed
his eyes. "How about you, Isuzu-san? Tell me something about New Year's.
Anything. Tell me about your parents."

"I--what about them?"

"She doesn't like talking about her family," Satoru said, hurrying to Rin's side
when the uncomprehending look started to settle onto her face again. Haru
fought to keep his hands from clenching into fists.

"I'm not talking to you. Isuzu-san?"

"It's none of your business," she whispered.

"No? How about something else? Do you know what happened to make your ribs
hurt when it's going to storm?" His voice roughened with anger of his own,
directed at lies she couldn't remember telling. "Want to tell me about the scar
on your back?" The stare she gave him in return couldn't have been blanker if
he'd suddenly started speaking Cantonese. "How'd you get it?"

"I don't have--" She blinked in confusion, so obviously losing her train of
thought that Satoru stopped glowering at Haru and shot her a concerned look.
"I--what?"

"Why do you keep your back covered in dance class?"

"Because I don't like being cold," she replied after an uncomfortable pause. "I
don't--I..."

"Have you ever seen her back?" Haru asked Satoru.

"Of course he--"

"Look, this is ridiculous," Satoru interjected, slipping an arm around Rin's
shoulders. Haru took a deep breath, torn between jealousy and wonder. Another
man was touching her. A man. Touching Rin. Chest brushing against her back,
and her too far away from everything that had made her _Rin_ to understand what
it meant. "No, I haven't seen her back, not that it's any of your business.
And if she does have a scar, what difference does it make?"

"You don't think it matters that she doesn't _know_ about it?" Haru demanded,
incredulous.

Rin interrupted him. "Hang on, I don't have amnesia or anything." She shifted her
weight anxiously, glancing away. "I know who my parents are, I know--"

"You don't know that you've got a scar longer than my hand, that goes straight
to the bone." He pushed harder when she winced, trying to take advantage of the
fact that she seemed to be staying focused on what he was saying. "D'you even
feel it when you wash your back, or do you just blank out when you touch it?"

"I--"

"You were hypnotized and sent away so the family wouldn't have to deal with what
happened to you, and so you wouldn't have to--they decided you weren't strong
enough, so they ripped you apart and put you back together wrong--"

"You're saying you want me to remember something so awful that I forgot it?"
The distance between them wasn't enough to hide how she was shaking; Satoru took
her hand.

"Something bad enough that they _made_ you forget it." Spoken aloud, the words
filled him with dread. Secondhand images of what she had been like before the
memories were suppressed swam through his mind. "They erased you, and--and part
of this is easy to prove." He nodded at Satoru. "Just touch her back," Haru
said. "You should be able to feel the scar she can't remember right through her
shirt."

Satoru hesitated, looking down at Rin's fingers twined with his. "Isuzu...?"
She shook her head helplessly, uncomprehending, and said nothing. "Where is
it?"

"Diagonal across her right shoulder blade, almost to her spine." Haru's breath
caught as Satoru gently freed his hand and touched Rin's left shoulder, brow
furrowed in concentration. "Even if she keeps it covered, I don't know how you
didn't notice--"

"She doesn't like having her back touched." Rin stood frozen while his fingers
moved to the right side of her back, across the bones in her shoulder, and
discovered the ridge of damaged tissue. "Oh, god," he whispered, and Haru's
automatic antipathy for him went down another notch--Satoru showed no sign of
recoiling, only a pained shock as he carefully traced the length of the scar.

Rin didn't look up until Satoru took his hand away. "Could you feel it when he
touched it?" Haru asked. She nodded slowly, and for the first time he saw the
beginning of belief on both of their faces. Shaking, she reached up and slid
her hand down the back of her shirt, finding the top edge of the old injury.

"How?"

"A year and a half ago you were hurt really badly." The vague explanation came
to mind too easily, a reminder of his own willful ignorance of the details, and
he shuddered. "You were in the hospital for almost two months."

Anger tinged her blank expression; Haru couldn't tell whether it was at his
vagueness or her inability to find the memory she was obviously reaching for.
"What happened?"

His mouth went dry at the thought of explaining. "Do you remember Akito?"

"Yes." She turned to Satoru and added, "The head of my family. I don't know
him very well."

"Akito pushed you out of a second-story window." There was no way to soften the
explanation--and, he saw, no need. She didn't so much as blink. Haru kept his
eyes locked on hers, not looking away to see Satoru's reaction. "Listen to me.
Remember Akito." Rin nodded. "Akito hurt you." A thought struck him. "D'you
remember what Akito did to Tori-nii?" She nodded again, with only a trace of
hesitation. "So you know Akito hurts people when they haven't done anything
wrong, sometimes. And that's what happened to you."

She was following him so far. "What did he...?"

"You were pushed," Haru repeated. "Akito was angry at you, and it wasn't your
fault, but--he--shoved you out a window. And you fell, and you were hurt for a
long time."

"I fell." Her fingers were moving steadily over the top of the scar. "I fell?"

"Do you remember?" She shook her head, but her face was drawn with uncertainty.
"I think it was one of the old storage buildings at the back of the Main House.
Last July. I remember it being a sunny day."

"You remember it happening?"

"I--we all--got called afterwards. Shigure-sensei called to tell me you'd been
hurt." He tried and failed to relax his hands. "Please, can I talk to you in
private? I won't hurt you--I won't touch you at all. But I need to..."

"Need to what?" she asked when he faltered.

"I need to see if I can make you remember."

"You said you were looking for your ex-girlfriend." Satoru's voice startled
both of them, tight with too many mixed emotions for Haru to do more than wince.

"Yeah."

Rin took a deep breath and reached out to touch Satoru's hand. "I think maybe I
should talk to him alone."

"Are you seriously comfortable with that? Isuzu, just because he says he knows
things about you--" He hesitated, looking at her shoulder as if he could see
through her clothes to what he'd felt. "--even if it's true, you don't have
to--"

"I'm not comfortable," she said. "He's making my head hurt, but that's not
_normal_. It's not normal that I can't make sense of half of what he says."

"Well, he's saying some crazy stuff--"

"I mean the actual words." She turned and stared at Haru, frowning. "There's
something wrong in my brain. I've never had anything feel like this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." There was steel in the single word, and Haru smiled faintly at it.
"What?" she demanded.

"I don't think Tori-nii was counting on how stubborn you are."

"What does he have to do with..." Haru waited while she put the pieces
together. "He knows about this--this whatever-this-is?" He nodded. "But I--"

"He thought it was the best thing."

"And now he's changed his mind?"

"_You_ asked me to help you," Haru said softly. "So I came. It'd been so long
since you asked anyone for help, and I wish you'd asked me months ago, or
sooner, before everything got so messed up, Rin--"

"'Rin'," she echoed, hugging herself. "No one's called me that in a long time."
She turned to Satoru without looking up to meet his eyes. "I'll call you
later?"

"Sure," Satoru said, and Rin cringed at the dullness in his voice. He touched
her shoulder instead of hugging her, and left without another word.

She stared after him until the sound of a closing door at the end of the hall
drifted back to them, her fingertips digging into her arms. "Are these memories
I'm supposed to be missing worth hurting somebody I care about?"

"I don't know how to measure it for you, but I know you didn't want to lose
them."

"You 'know' because we had some kind of relationship?" she asked, her tone
sharpening.

"I _know_ because I've known you my entire life, and 'cause I saw the tape of
you begging for it not to happen. It's not a few memories, Rin, or just bad
stuff--it's your life. You. Things you wouldn't believe if I tried to tell you
what you were."

"This is insane," she muttered, shifting her weight uncomfortably.

"Do you remember my name?"

"Hatsuharu." She stumbled on it, but it was the sweetest sound he'd heard in
months.

"Only a couple of the adults call me that. It's just Haru when I'm not in
trouble."

"Do you get in trouble a lot?"

"All the time. It--you didn't always like it, but sometimes you thought it was
funny."

"Did it bother you?" Something in her voice changed, regret flavoring what had
been abstract curiosity. "Haru?"

*She understands why it matters.* He shook his head, barely able to breathe
through the hope tightening his throat. "I loved it when anything made you
smile, even if it was just 'cause I was being stupid."

"You weren't...!" The flash of indignation caught them both by surprise; one of
Rin's hands flew to her mouth, as if she could feel what had shaped the words.
"You--I-I felt--" She stared at him in confusion, sudden terror shining in her
eyes. "I don't like hearing you say that." She reached back over her shoulder
and touched the top of her shoulder blade again. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Yeah." Fear mixed with anger had always made her intense and touchy; fear
alone made her curl in on herself, left him aching to hold her. "Rin, I'm
sorry. I just--I miss you, but it's more than that. I saw you the other night,
when you were dancing--"

"You saw me?"

"I've seen you lots the last few days, and you never even noticed until I talked
to you today. And you looked almost like you were happy, but I _saw_ you."
*Find a crack.* "Even without remembering it, you can feel something missing,
can't you?"

"If you're telling the truth, shouldn't I feel like there's a lot missing?"

"Not your memories, something--it felt like you were dancing to look for
something. Does it make you happy?"

"It frustrates me." Rin rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes. "I'm not
good enough."

"That's not it."

"Then what _is_ it?" Half-sarcastic, half-pleading, she stepped towards him as
she spoke, close enough that he could reach out and touch her. "If you know so
much, what is it?"

"Tell me if I'm wrong," Haru said, staring into her eyes. "Not if it sounds
crazy, just if I'm wrong." He waited until she nodded. "There should be
voices--never loud enough to make out what they're saying, but enough that
you're never quite alone--but instead it's always quiet even when there're
people around you. Always, no matter what you do." She recoiled
violently, bumping into the wall behind her. "And you dance because part of you
knows you were born to do it, but you don't know when or what the dance is, so
it's always wrong."

"Stop it." Her pupils were dilating strangely, darkening her eyes eerily while
the rest of her face lost all color.

"D'you want to spend the rest of your life not even knowing what you're missing?
You're not imagining it, and there's no one here who'll ever have any idea what
it is."

"How do--" Barely a rasp, the question stuttering to a halt unasked.

"It happened to me too. I can't show you what your dance was, Rin; I saw it
once, but it was _yours_. There'll never be anyone else whose body will do what
yours did." A bitter smile twisted his lips. "You promised me once that you'd
show it to me--just for me, that piece of you that was never meant for me, no
matter how much I wanted it." Her expression was beginning to go slack; without
thinking, he grabbed her shoulders. "Don't. I saw you fight it, I know you
can--"

"Wh-what?"

"Say my name." Urgency spilled out in his voice, channeled through his fingers;
Rin winced and tugged against his grip.

"Haru," she whispered. "Hatsuharu." Her eyes snapped back into focus,
frightened, and he let go; she blindly reached up to her shoulders, retracing
the path of his hands with the same disbelieving hesitance with which she'd
touched her scar.

"I can show you my dance," he said. "That's all I can do to tell you what it
was, without you remembering a little."

"I'm scared." She flinched when he reached out instinctively, wanting to soothe
the plaintive note away.

"I'm not touching you, okay?" He tried to make himself step back, to give her a
little more room, and couldn't. The idea of voluntarily putting any more space
between them made his stomach turn. "I'm not touching you. You can walk away
if you have to, if you really don't want to know." Tears ran slowly down her
cheeks as she looked at him. "I know it hurts, but please--please, _please_,
let me do this. Even if it doesn't change anything, or mean anything to you,
it's a promise I made.

"Let me dance for you. That's all. If you want me to leave you alone
afterwards, let you think for a while, I will."

The offer hung between them while she stared at him and he tried to hold
perfectly still. She was so close to bolting that the air was charged with it.
*Breathe,* he chanted to himself, clinging to the memory of Kazuma's steady
voice talking a class through ritual exercises. *Breathe.* One muscle at a
time, he made himself relax, watching through half-lidded eyes while Rin's
flight response gradually shut down.

"Okay," she said at last. "Come in here." He followed her into the small dance
studio, blinking into its darkness before she turned on the bank of soft lights
over the mirrored wall. Rin slowly locked the door behind them. "Show me."

Haru leaned over to unlace his boots, rolling his shoulders and the bones of his
spine while he undid the knots. Each muscle in his body had its own message,
varying states of tightness and relaxation; he didn't dare take the time to
fully warm up, but he did what he could, aware of Rin's eyes following every
movement.

Even uncursed, his own instincts felt the wrongness of what he was doing. The
lack of ritual itched--there was a time and place for this, and his place in the
cycle hadn't come around.

*It'll never come again,* he told himself fiercely, stripping his shirt off
without letting himself look at her. He touched his jewelry uncertainly,
remembering the bells woven into every Jyuunishi's clothing before they danced;
after a moment, he set his necklace and rings aside, leaving only the plain
collar at his throat and the studs in his ears. *There's only this.* The
well-loved wood of the floor was almost soft underfoot, and the room's acoustics
caught the sound of each footstep as he moved away from the wall.

He didn't look at Rin again until he'd knelt, facing toward her. She hadn't
moved from her place by the door, and he remembered that, for her, the space had
its own rituals and comfort. He gave her a quick nod of acknowledgment, and
lowered his head to listen to the echoes still resonating inside his chest. The
absence of sound and the shape of the void held the memory of what had once been
among his most primal instincts.

The Ox was gone, but his body remembered the dance like long-worn clothing
carrying the imprint of the wearer's shape.

Remembering, he moved.

It had been three years since his sole performance of the dance that embodied
the Ox's joy in the bond to its god. Alone in his skin, the experience was
keenly different: he was fully attuned to every change that time's passage had
made to his body, the ghost of animal instinct murmuring that he was stronger
now than he might ever be again. The pleasure of testing his own strength in
karate was magnified into a pure, uncomplicated delight as he moved through the
steps that no one living knew but him.

A corner of his mind felt the lack of Akito's gaze on him, but Rin's
attention--riveted, undiluted--more than made up for it. If there was
loneliness in the Ox's absence, there was also joy in knowing he could offer
every movement, a part of himself that had never before been his to give, to her
without reservation.

He danced the tale of god's invitation, of accepting it, of a solid,
unquestioning love born in an unending celebration. Every touch of his foot on
the ground was steady and sure, reflecting the Ox's connection to the earth; it
held nothing of the impossible speed and lightness of the Horse's dance,
seemingly performed half in the air, but it was dense with a different grace, a
power rooted deeply in the wood underfoot, in the stone and soil further below.

It ended in a position that hinted at submission, that was brutally hard to hold
but easy to shift out of; the trust in it was implicit, as clear as the fact
that no one but him could keep him there. Haru held it, half-remembering the
sound of bells at his wrists and ankles chiming softly into silence,
half-focused on Rin's presence. Every muscle trembled in his sudden stillness,
as if the weight of the sweat on his skin was almost too much to bear. He heard
Rin take one step towards him, and another.

He didn't look up when she stopped in front of him, barefoot out of respect for
the dance floor; it was a strange thing to look only at her feet, to have the
sudden certainty that he could recognize her by them alone, that he knew her
arches and sharply-defined Achilles' tendons and fine-boned ankles almost as
well as he knew the fit of her hips in his hands.

He tilted his head back only when she spoke. "I've seen that before." He
nodded. "But I've never--not like that, I can't have."

"It was different for you."

Rin walked around behind him, stopped, and stood facing him again. "Your back,"
she said, frowning uncomfortably. "The Ox. And that was what I was thinking of
while you were dancing...?"

"It's the same. It's what I was."

"It was going to be my turn soon." Color tinged her cheeks as she glanced at
him and away, hugging herself. "Wasn't it? I feel... jealous, I think?"

"This time it would've been Aya-nii. The next year would have been yours."
Haru finally let himself relax into a more natural position, still kneeling in
front of her, entranced by the uneasy way she shifted her weight.

"I danced once." Each word came slowly, dragged from somewhere that didn't want
to give it up to her. "Once. Were you there? There were people watching me.
Lots of people? I can't see them. Only Akito."

Haru remembered the way the world fell away during the dance, leaving nothing
but Yuki's ritual handing-off of the year, those few minutes when they moved
together, and then only his own breath and movement and Akito's exultant smile.
"Only Akito," he agreed, cringing inwardly at the thought of his last contact
with her. "But I saw you. I was six. You were--" *Beautiful.* "--eight."

**********
"maybe you'll leave the light on
just in case I like the dancing
I can remember where I come from"
--Tori Amos, "Mother" (Little Earthquakes)
**********

She is eight years old, almost too young to perform her Year's dance--some of
the maids cluck disapprovingly while they craft her clothing--but so many of the
Jyuunishi are so young, now, that an exception is made when she asks for it.
Hiro is a toddler, too small to dance for either of the following years; three
years would be too long to wait for a full ritual performance of the banquet
tradition. And she wants it, wants to show them the Horse surging under her
skin, wants to share in the warm light of the bond instead of the fetters of the
curse.

She doesn't understand until she begins, body following a rhythm it knows as
well as breathing, and by then it's too late to stop. Too young, but she dances
every step flawlessly, drowning in the tide of her own blood. They offer her
food when she's finished, and she takes nothing, not even water. Instead she
sits by Shigure, who casually guards her silence with his own banter, and waits
for the ancient spirit inside her to settle back into a restless slumber where
"Sohma Isuzu" is little more than a dream it conjures to pass the time.

**********

"You saw me," she echoed, and Haru's pulse abandoned the idea of slowing down.
Still flooded with the adrenaline of the dance, he shook when she reached out
towards him. "There was a spirit that wasn't me, using my body--"

"Sharing it. It was with you before you were born." Her hands moved near his
head, disturbing only the air between them. "You were born under the Sohma
curse."

"Possessed by the vengeful spirit of the Horse." Rin said it so unsteadily Haru
wondered if it meant anything to her. "So no one touched me. And you're here
with the mark of the Ox on your back." Fingertips brushed his face and
lingered. "It wasn't there before??"

"No."

"You had it done without me?" The possessive undercurrent that surged up was
sharp and hungry under the tremor in her voice. *Mine,* it whispered, clearer
than the words.

*Ohgodpleaseyes.* Language every Jyuunishi knew, reached for and recoiled from.
"Yes."

**********

Blood wells up and is wiped away from the green ink that changes Haru's arm into
something unfamiliar; it's gone so quickly that she barely registers it, but the
angry red skin around the new pattern makes her queasy. It's hard to imagine it
healed, to wrap her head around its permanence.

The look on his face scares her, eyes intensely focused on something she can't
see, breathing steadily through his mouth. She stays as close to him as she
can, holding on; it's far too late to ask him not to go through with it, to do
anything but keep her hands on him and feel the excitement pooling in his
muscles.

*Everything else is in my genes or from the curse,* he said before they went in,
ruefully running his fingers through his hair. *I want to control my body, you
know? Decide something about it for myself.*

She doesn't know, but his response to it is familiar--the glassy sheen in his
eyes is disconcertingly like his expression in the throes of arousal. Seeing it
in front of a stranger knots her stomach and quickens her pulse, all at once;
she leans forward and kisses him, reclaiming the look that should belong only to
her.

*********

She wasn't his god. Her touch couldn't reach the ache in his chest that craved
Akito's response to his offering. But she _was_ touching him, fingertips
awkward on his cheek, her eyes bright as fire as she stared down at him. "I--I
don't--"

"Please remember me," he breathed. "Please come back, Rin--it's all still there
somewhere."

"I feel like I should know you." Her eyes focused on his hair, taking in the
distinctive coloring. "Like I met you once, a long time ago."

"I've held you through more nightmares than I want to think about." Memory
tightened his throat. "I've been inside you." A fresh blush started spreading
across her cheeks, but he made himself hold her gaze. "D'you want details?
I've had my mouth on every inch of your body, and I remember it all."

"Stop it," she whispered, but her eyes were locked on his.

"I was your first lover, and you were mine."

Under the color in her cheeks, her face went eerily still; Haru shivered,
leaning into her touch while her eyelids drifted shut. Her fingers slid down
under his jaw, cradling his head. "Ohh," she whispered, head lolling slightly
to one side. The change settling into her body was subtle and lovely, robbing
him of breath even before she looked at him again. Shared secrets lurked in her
eyes, a reminder of the months when they'd hardly dared glance at each other in
public for fear of betraying themselves.

Her kiss caught him off guard, the warmth of her breath on his cheek the only
warning he had before her mouth was on his. Hesitant and uncertain, it was more
of a question than a caress; he could almost feel her trying to map it onto
whatever memory had run through her.

Hands clenched on his shoulders, and then she was settling onto his lap, alive
and warm, pressing against him in a way that made his head swim. Haru caught
her by the hips, pulling her down into a second kiss that had him hard and
pushing against her before he had time to think. He closed his eyes and
listened to the sound of her gasps, keenly aware of the few layers of cloth
keeping him out of her. When she slid back a few inches down his thighs, he
almost pulled her back.

"I left you, I remember--" Haru looked at her, at the sudden shock whitening
her face, and made himself relax his grip on her.

"Do you remember why?"

"Yes."

"Does it still matter?" Rin made a low sound of anguish that sent a sympathetic
shudder down his spine. "You don't have to--" Her mouth on his interrupted
him--her body was electric, every possible inch pressed close.

"I thought I was a virgin." She ran her hands over his back, skin on skin,
dizzying him. "I..."

"Trust me, you're not." He laced his fingers behind her neck and kissed her,
rubbing his thumbs against the pulse points in her throat. "You know you're
not."

"No," she breathed, a strain of confusion in her voice that he identified and
forgot as she returned the kiss with a need that matched his, as if a part of
her mind had been waiting as long and desperately as he had.

*Don't push her, don't make her feel like she has to do anything...* The
warnings he chanted to himself barely kept him from sliding his hands under her
clothes, pushing things further--anything to close the distance between them.
Anything to remind himself of how it had felt to be locked in the Jyuunishi bond
with her.

"Look at me," he said when she buried her face against his neck. She shook her
head, still shifting herself hungrily on his lap; she didn't look at him or pull
away, and he tried not to think about what that meant. "Rin," he whispered, her
name melting like smoke on his tongue. "Rin, Rin, Rin," in time with their
bodies' movements against each other, her mouth working against his throat with
a skill that no amount of instinct could account for.

**********
"If everything is just the way it should be
Why am I
why am I still hungry?"
--Sarah Fimm, "Be Like Water" (A Perfect Dream)
**********

She is seventeen, has been his lover for long enough now that she no longer
blushes when she thinks about it, long enough that they are becoming comfortable
in bed together, sharing laughter with their kisses. She's beginning to
understand not only how deep the violent streak he tries to bury actually runs,
but how much gentleness is under it, under all the layers of control and loss of
control.

She is not yet used to how much power her touch has over him, how she can make
him tremble with a kiss, how beautiful--she loves whispering the word to him,
watching him laugh--he looks lying under her. It intoxicates her, tangled with
wondering whether he'll move and turn the tables on her, or let her keep him
there until she's taken what pleasure she wants from him.

Sometimes she tries to imagine sharing this connection, this secret language of
perfectly-placed touches, with someone who hasn't shared her entire life. In
the safety of Haru's arms, she examines the idea with vague horror before
cuddling back against his familiar warmth. "No one else," she whispers, trying
not to rouse him from his light doze. "No one but you."

**********

She pushed away from him with no warning, huddling in on herself as soon as
their bodies weren't touching. "Haru," she whispered. "You're Haru. I
r-remember you being a little kid, and when you started high school, and when
you got your mom to teach you to make ohagi because I liked it--" The choked
sound that broke the flow of words made him cringe. "But it sounds strange when
you say my name, and I have a project due in four days that I need to
finish--it's been years since I cared, but I care, I want to do well. And this
_hurts_, and I..." She trailed off, burying her face against her knees. "I
just cheated on my boyfriend."

Haru flinched, and she shook her head as if she'd seen. "I've never done
anything but kiss him. I thought--I really like him. Kind of a sweet crush,
you know?"

"No," he whispered.

"...I guess not. It's a nice feeling." Tears streamed unheeded down her
cheeks. "It's not like this."

He didn't dare touch her, with his nerves so attuned to her. "I'm sorry."

"You said I asked you for help?" There was no blame in the question, only
heartache "I don't understand how...?"

"There was an echo of you in my head. Sometimes I dreamed about you and it was
just dreaming, but sometimes--after the curse broke--it was like you were still
there. Connected just a little. And then Tori-nii showed me the tapes from the
last time you were in the hospital--"

"You keep talking about tapes...?" Rin lifted her head, wincing as if the dim
light hurt. "I don't remember. What time?" She pressed her hands over her
eyes with a soft moan. "I don't remember. My head's too full of empty space to
let everything in. It's too heavy."

"Tapes from before he made you forget. Before your curse broke." She hid her
face again, fingers scrabbling at her legs. "What do you remember?"

"Nothing." She stirred restlessly, tracing the floor's grain. "I--things are
coming, but it's not enough."

"It broke you," Haru said. "Something finally broke you, and Tori-nii thought
it was the right thing to do what Akito wanted. But I saw the tape, and you
were begging me to stop him. I didn't know. _He_ didn't know."

"I don't remember."

"Would--" he paused and licked his lips, unsure what to do. "Do you want to see
it? I made a copy. Tori-nii doesn't know."

"I don't know." She got to her feet and began to pace, running her hands over
her ribs and arms and wincing. Haru stayed where he was, afraid of spooking
her. It was too easy to imagine her running out into the night, with fragments
of memory reassembling themselves. Watching her was dizzying; she moved as if
she might fall at any moment, somehow graceful even as her balance crumbled.

"Rin, we can't stay here," he ventured. "Would you feel safe at your place?"

"I'm going to fall apart." She came to an abrupt stop only a few feet away,
crouching down in a shaking ball. "Haru, I'm going to come apart, please...?"

His muscles protested at moving after holding still for so long. "Can I touch
you?" He knelt beside her until she nodded, her nails digging into the sides of
her arms. "Okay. I'm gonna help you up, and we'll go back to your apartment."
Another nod, and he half-lifted her to her feet, taking most of her weight
against his side; she whimpered, but didn't pull away. "What're you
remembering?"

She said nothing until he'd led her to the door, where she slipped her shoes on
mechanically and stood clinging to the edge of the barre that ended at the
doorway. Haru let her go cautiously, yanking his shirt on and letting his
fingers lace his boots without his attention. "I can't sleep," she said,
touching her head, enunciating the words as carefully as a drunk feigning
sobriety. "I can't sleep. You've been gone since New Year's and I know you're
fine, you're always fine, but I miss you." Haru straightened up and wrapped his
arms around her without thinking. "I wish they'd let you stay with me again.
There's a nurse who keeps coming to check on me and she walks too loudly and it
hurts when she takes my blood. I don't want to be by myself anymore." Her
voice dwindled, as dead and tremulous as autumn leaves. "I want Mama to come
back."

"I'll take you home, okay?" he asked, and she stiffened, frowning as if she
didn't understand the question. "Back to your apartment. Do you have your
keys?"

"Don't leave me by myself!" Panic gouged her nails into his arms. "Don't, it's
getting worse, I'll drown--"

"I won't leave you. Rin, shhh, I wouldn't leave you." He kept an arm around
her shoulders and helped her out of the studio, taking her keys when her hands
shook too hard to lock the door. "Can you walk? I'll carry you if you can't--I
don't mind--but people'll notice more if I do." He silently promised an
offering of thanks that the place Hatori had found for her to live was so close
to the edge of campus they were on; she walked when he did, but it was awkward.

Once on the street, passing students politely avoided staring. From the few
murmurs he overheard, he realized that they thought Rin was thoroughly
intoxicated. It was a reasonable enough assumption, with the way she was
leaning against him, and her hands in constant motion between her temples and
the sides of her arms.

Only one person intercepted them--a girl Haru thought he might have seen talking
to Rin the day before, who took one look and came to a halt in front of them,
fixing him with a warning look. "Is she okay?" Before he could answer, she
touched Rin's cheek. "Isuzu-san, what's wrong?"

Rin looked up, blinking rapidly. "Cats make me nervous. They always want--want
to be petted, but I'm scared to. He didn't understand that he was supposed to
hate us." The other girl stared at her in confusion. "I'm not feeling well,"
she added, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Are you in class with her?" Haru asked. "If she's not better tomorrow, can you
tell her teachers that she's sick?"

The girl eyed him, still suspicious. "I don't know who you are."

"He's from home." Rin rubbed her eyes, shivering. "I've known him since he was
born." She turned and pressed her face against Haru's shoulder. "I can't
think. You got in trouble for fighting on your last day of middle school, and
your mom got angry 'cause she thought they wouldn't let you into Kaibara, and
you smiled when you told me."

"She was paying attention," he said softly. "I remember too. Come on, you'll
feel better when you get home." *I hope.* He nodded at her friend and started
walking again, guiding Rin carefully; her eyes were squeezed completely shut, as
if she couldn't bear looking at the world.

"I don't want to forget this," she whispered when they were in sight of her
apartment building. "I like it here. Is everything pouring into my head going
to push this out?"

Haru pulled her keys out of his pocket, trying to guess which of them would let
them in. "No." She reached out and touched one of the keys, and he slid it
into the lock. "Tori-nii said you'd remember everything that's happened since
then--things might move around a little to fit together."

"No wonder my head feels seasick." She sounded so shaky and miserable that he
picked her up as soon as they were inside the building, letting her burrow
against his chest while he figured out where to go. There were only two keys
left that he hadn't used; the second one opened the door to her apartment, and
he hesitated on the threshold. Rin laughed weakly when she noticed. "You tore
my mind open, and now you're worried about coming into my home?"

He stepped inside and set her down, guiltily glad that she kept leaning against
him while he closed and locked the door. "I live here," she said, with a quiver
of uncertainty, and Haru took it as permission to look around. The layout was
familiar from things he'd seen on TV--somewhat larger than most students might
expect, if small to a Sohma's eyes. The main room held her futon and a kotatsu
with little space to spare, but her knack for detail showed in the ways she'd
stored things around the furniture, and he could catch a glimpse of a kitchen
through a separate doorway. She had few enough things that there was no
impression of clutter, only a casual artistry. "Tori-nii said I could move
after a couple of months if I wanted, but it's _my_ space, even if the family--"
She cut herself off and stepped away from him, unsteadily making her way to the
open futon. "Glad I was lazy this morning," she muttered, curling up on it with
a grateful sigh.

Haru knelt down beside her, touching a loose lock of her hair. "Don't feel
weird about the family paying for it," he said. "The whole clan together isn't
rich enough to pay back what it owes you."

"I forgot." Anger flushed her cheeks. "I remembered that we had money, but I
forgot--my whole life, knowing I could have anything I wanted, as if it'd pay
for being cursed." She pressed her palms over her eyes, gritting her teeth.
"You said you brought that tape? Can you show me now?" Haru hesitated, and she
added, "It's still getting worse. I want to see it while I can still think."

"You sound better than you did outside," he said, confused.

"My body's not cooperating." Rin rolled onto her back, shuddering. "I was
paying too much attention to walking. And now I _remember_ Tori-nii's memory
trick." She turned her head slowly to look at him. "I thought I was going
crazy for no reason." Uncertainty laced her voice; he leaned over and rested
his forehead against hers, watched her eyes flickering open and closed, so close
that her lashes tickled his cheek. "I can feel what's going on, but it _hurts_,
there's so much pressure in my skull."

He kissed her without thinking, grazing his lips against her temple, and she
stiffened. "Sorry, I know you're--"

"I'm waking up," she whispered. "I wasn't lying to him, was I? But I don't
know how my entire life ever fit into my head, I don't know how much of what
I've been here was _me_."

"What does it feel like?"

"Did you ever make yourself change shape?" Before he could answer, she turned
back onto her side, pressing her face against a pillow. "Without a trigger?"

"No," he said in surprise. "Could you?"

"It feels like that time. I needed to be human, and my horse shape felt like
the heaviest thing in the world, but my--this body took its place anyway. It
was the only time I ever felt like I had two bodies, or like the horse wasn't
_me_, just for that second, and I was both but I could only be in one skin at a
time." She caught her breath with a gasp. "This makes no sense, I'm sorry, I
just--"

"'s'okay." Haru stroked her hair, shivering at the tension that flowed into his
palm. "I've got a year of not hearing your voice to make up for."

"Feels like--like I only have to look at a few things at once if there's
something outside to focus on." Her hand came to rest on his thigh as she
pushed herself up onto an elbow, wincing. "Show me?"

There was a small TV set in a corner, unobtrusively combined with both a VCR and
a DVD player. He rescued the tape from his pocket, taking the chance to tuck
his coat and boots away in the entryway, and set it up before he could second
guess the offer to let Rin see it. He turned back after hitting play, and
caught her outstretched hand, helping her sit up. She slumped against his side
when he knelt back down, her eyes fixed on the screen, and said nothing else
while it played.

The only sign that she was registering what she saw and heard was the way her
trembling intensified, until it was almost painful to touch her while imagining
how her muscles must feel. By the end of the tape, she was doubled over,
shaking as if the recorded screams were coming out of her mouth; her total
silence made it something out of a nightmare. He didn't need to try reading her
lips in the faint light from the TV to know that they were shaping his name over
and over, echoing the tape rather than in sync with it.

Her voice came back when the screen went blank, a strangled whisper that went
straight through his guts, leaving a trail of nausea in its wake. "They drugged
me." It was impossible not to flinch back from her utter horror. "They held me
down and drugged me, so I knew what was coming and I couldn't even scream
anymore."

"I know."

"I knew you couldn't hear me." Tears finally began to spill down her cheeks;
Haru tried and failed to wipe them away. "It was all gray, and Tori-nii came,
and I wanted you to be there to hold me while I died. I died. Everything in my
mind went away one piece at a time and I couldn't hang on, and you weren't
there."

"I'm here now," he said, pressing his face against hers. "I know it's not
enough, but please--come back, Rin, I'm here, I'll be here for as long as it
takes. I won't leave you alone." *Never again, as long as you need me.*
"You're safe. Let go. Let it come back."

"But it--" She moaned in the back of her throat, shaking her head against his
cheek.

**********

She is nine years old, curled up in a tight ball around her favorite doll, too
badly in need of comfort to straighten out and ease the pain in her side. The
night has disappeared somewhere, without benefit of sleep or tears, and her
father stands over her. "Get up. You can't be late for school." The day
before, her mother woke her with a kiss. Today, Isuzu stares up at her father
without comprehension, trying to reconcile "school" with the ruin of her world;
when he says her name like it's something filthy, she recognizes the threat and
forces herself out of bed. Her side hurts with every movement, but nothing is
broken; she can stand, and dress herself, and walk. In her mind, she throws her
name away with the broken shards of the plates from last night's supper.

**********

"--it hurts, Haru, please--"

There was no strength in her arms when they went around him, but he answered the
wordless plea, crushing her against himself as he hadn't dared earlier. He let
himself fall back onto the futon, pillowing her head with his chest; for a small
eternity she was rigid, and then her control disintegrated so violently that he
felt nothing but awe that she'd been able to hold back the sobs that were
tearing through her body.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus only on the present, to banish the
spine-chilling way she'd screamed his name on the videotape that was still in
her VCR back into the recesses of his mind.

"It's dark, it's dark, and I'm sorry..."

*********

Fruits Basket is the creation of Takaya Natsuki, and is licensed in North
America by FUNimation (anime) and Tokyopop (manga). Used without permission or
the intention of making a profit. Please support the original work!

"History, Like Love" © 2006-2007 by Ysabet MacFarlane (ba087@chebucto.ns.ca).
Edited by Alishya Lane.

Comments and criticism welcomed at the above address.

This story may be reproduced and archived so long as the original text is
preserved and the author's name and contact information remain attached.
Notifying the author of any such use is an appreciated courtesy. NO CHANGES OF
ANY KIND ARE PERMITTED.

All quoted lyrics/epigraphs are the property of their copyright holders, and are
also used without permission. The title "History, Like Love" comes from the
song "Human Remains" by Tom McRae, found on the album "Just Like Blood"; this
chapter's title comes from the song "Take Me With You" by Tori Amos, found on
"The Piano: A Collection".