[Fruits Basket] Haru/Rin, #10 Title: Every Road Leads Back (or, Two Months, Ten Conversations) Author: Ysabet MacFarlane (ba087@chebucto.ns.ca) Pairing: Sohma Hatsuharu and Sohma Isuzu (Rin) Fandom: Fruits Basket Theme: #10 (10) 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 approved or endorsed by any of the copyright holders. Please support the original work! Notes: --This story picks up almost immediately after "Shadows on the Wall" (Kiss #9, , but will probably make sense without it; chronologically, it takes place during the second half of volume 23 (but doesn't include spoilers past chapter 133), between late July and September 2000. --Unlike most of my 30 Kisses entries, this one involves several other characters from the series. --Title from Tori Amos' "In the Springtime of His Voodoo". --Edited by Alishya Lane. ******************************************************************************* #1 (late July 2000) The looks on Haru's parents' faces almost made the stress of going back to the Main House worthwhile, Rin thought. She kept her head lowered politely, sneaking quick looks around the living room from under her lashes. The large window looked out on a central footpath, putting too many passersby in a position to see inside; she couldn't remember ever setting foot in the room after she and Haru had admitted that they had feelings for each other that no one could ever find out about. Except here they were, just over two years later, her stomach tying itself in knots while they knelt formally in front of his parents, waiting for an answer. *It doesn't matter that much.* Their expressions really were priceless, especially his father's--the only reason Rin was reasonably sure that the man had even known she and Haru were involved before they'd walked in the door twenty minutes earlier was that Haru had finally sat his mother down and told _her_ in April. *If they say no, it's just another...* Three years. She tried to shove the thought down. Another three years of not being fully in control of their own relationship, of knowing how many people didn't believe it meant anything at all. Momiji, always the one who heard even the quietest whispers, had reluctantly passed on what the family and the servants were saying: that they'd been bored and lonely; that they'd been trying to spite Akito; it was a phase; that they were family, however thin the actual blood tie between them. That it was nothing. She hadn't let herself care--_didn't_ care--because they'd never talked about getting married; at first they'd shared the assumption that it was impossible, and then, without discussing it, the assumption that it would happen...eventually. And then he'd asked her, and she'd spent every minute since--the two hours since--wanting it so badly she could taste it. Haru's father finally cleared his throat. "There's not...er...any immediate reason why you two have to...?" Haru had agreed to do the talking, but the silence stretched long enough that Rin began to wonder if he was deliberately keeping his parents off-balance. "Just the usual reasons," he said finally, as if the pause hadn't happened. "We're in love. We're gonna stay that way. We've already known each other a lot longer than most people do when they get married." His hand found Rin's, and she returned the pressure of his fingers; more intimacy than they'd ever shown in front of any adult Sohma but Kazuma. "All right." His mother, who'd been nearly as quiet as Rin had since they arrived. Her shoulders lifted in a tiny shrug, and then, a little too unexpectedly for Rin's nerves, she laughed. "I'm not enough of a hypocrite to start trying to control him now, dear," she told her husband when he looked as if he might argue. The rest of the conversation went by without Rin paying much attention to it, except when Haru's mother caught her eye and gave her a surprisingly warm smile. There was some stiffness in his father's congratulations, but later, when they were safely tucked away in his room--the only part of the house that felt really familiar--Haru shook his head when Rin wondered aloud if there'd been disapproval, too. "He likes you. They both like you. They probably won't get to know you very much, but Mom'll mean to..." "I know. It's okay." Rin made herself comfortable against him, locking her hands together at the base of his spine, kissing his throat to hear the contented way he sighed. "This is nice." The ceiling was further away than she was used to; she hadn't slept on a futon since the last time she'd sneaked in to spend the night, well over a year earlier. "I'm going to marry you," she whispered when Haru was asleep. If they'd been in her bed, she would have had the bedside light on and read for an hour or so before trying to sleep herself, but she didn't feel up to doing anything that blatantly announced her presence in his parents' house. With so much space overhead, and the warm breeze coming in from the open window, she let her mind wander, pretending they were sleeping under a flat, starless sky. ********** #2 (mid-August 2000) "I didn't know you _liked_ cooking," Tohru said one evening a few weeks later. She was almost the only person Rin talked to anymore who didn't believe in simply turning up on Kazuma's doorstep unannounced. The house wasn't the whirlwind of activity that Shigure's could be, but that, Rin suspected, was because everyone knew where to get Tohru's cooking. Rin had finally caved and asked to be taught how to cook something other than the very basic food she already knew how to make, and Tohru had arrived armed with ingredients and her usual boundless determination. As she spoke, she was absently chopping vegetables with far better technique than Rin had ever managed. "I don't," Rin said. "But it's not exactly safe to let Kazuma-san cook when we're the only ones here, and he has to be getting bored by now." Admitting that she was bored too was more than she was willing to say about her own eating habits. "Besides, Haru and I both need the practice." "Hatsuharu-san wants to learn too?" It was always tempting to leave her to draw her own conclusions, but Rin found she didn't have the patience for it. "He's staying in the Main House until he turns eighteen. By then we should know how to keep from starving just because there's no one to take care of us." Tohru did some calculations, forehead creasing. "That's in June? He'll still be in high school...?" "Yes." Rin set the timer on the rice cooker with a frown. "We'll be fine for money--it's the only thing the Sohmas are good at, but it's something. Haru says Gure-nii says Akito--" the name was harsh in her mouth, but her voice stayed even "--promised we'll still get our blood money for being born cursed. So Haru can finish school, and by then I'll be well enough to go to college if I want." Tohru nodded, and then a small laugh escaped her. "What?" "Everyone at school got so flustered when they found out about me and Kyo-kun. When they find out Hatsuharu-san's living with his girlfriend--" "Not his girlfriend." Rin barely voiced the correction, still half-afraid of being overheard. "Not--" "Not for long after that." Tohru stared blankly at her, and this time Rin waited it out. The younger girl's eyes widened with slow realization. "Isuzu-san...!" "His parents said they'll sign the consent forms." It occurred to her as she spoke that Tohru had a knife in her hand and a tendency to throw herself at people when she heard good news. "Stay over there!" Tohru was having none of that, but she did put the knife down first. ********** #3 (late August 2000) She was tireless. Shigure sat by the back window of Kazuma's house, overlooking the property's second-largest garden, and watched Rin busying herself outside. She wasn't a particularly fast worker--abused and neglected she might have been, but she was still a Sohma, raised with all the privilege the name assumed, and her childhood lessons had been in calligraphy and flower arrangement, not yard work. Shigure doubted that she'd had much instruction at all in what she was doing: he gathered she had put herself to work around the house without asking anyone's opinion on the subject, and Kazuma was likely too busy or absent-minded to show her what needed to be done, while Kunimitsu was too tongue-tied around her to make her listen. So her technique was a little strange as she swept and pruned, things she'd learned entirely by watching, but her results were respectable enough. Her artist's eye for detail served her well. But it made Shigure tired just looking at her. Tired, and vaguely curious about where she'd acquired the pants she was wearing. Her shirt was simpler than her usual fare, but it clung to her provocatively--normal enough, unlike the pants, which were too casual to look natural on legs that were usually bare or covered by tights that fit like a second skin. Shigure kept idle watch, halfheartedly trying to imagine Sohma Isuzu setting foot in a store that carried the clothes she was wearing. It didn't work. "She's very determined," Kazuma said from behind him. "And a bit distracting to my students." "Does she talk to them?" "Rarely enough that one of them expressed the opinion that she's 'shy, but sweet'." The suppressed amusement in Kazuma's voice brought an answering chuckle to Shigure's lips, unfamiliar in its spontaneity. "'Sweet'?" The girl in the garden was many things, most of them more flattering than his mock-astonishment implied, but there hadn't been a sweet bone in her body since the day her father had backhanded her and left a bone-deep bruise to mark the spot where her cheek had almost cracked. Shigure thought it was the only time her father had injured her face, but it was impossible to be sure. In a gesture that an outsider might have seen as maternal, Rin's mother had carefully taught her everything she knew about the many uses of makeup. "I hear you won't have her that much longer." "Word gets around." Kazuma sat down opposite him, following his gaze. "Is Akito-san aware of their intentions?" "We haven't discussed it. You may have noticed that she's taking a very hands-off approach with certain members of the family." "Kureno-kun hasn't been back to the Main House since he left the hospital, has he?" "Why, Kazuma-dono, you're awfully well informed." Distracted, Shigure looked away from the garden view. "He has, actually, but they haven't seen each other." Outside, the wind was picking up. When he looked back, Rin was gone. "And how long has it been since you've seen Isuzu?" Kazuma asked. "We haven't talked in a few months." "Is that why you stopped by today?" "I thought I'd congratulate her." "Ah." The outer door opened, and Kazuma said nothing else until they'd both heard the sound of Rin's footsteps passing by in the hallway. ********** "and I knew you pigtails and all girls when they fall..." --Tori Amos, "Marianne" (Boys For Pele) ********** #4 (late August 2000) Rin had changed and settled herself at the low table in the living room by the time Shigure came to find her. She saw him out of the corner of her eye just before he stepped into the room, smiling the too-wide, meaningless smile that had been his default expression since he'd left the Main House. "What do you want?" She looked back down at the list she'd been writing, suddenly unable to remember what she'd been doing. "I came to see how you are. Offer my congratulations on your engagement. That sort of thing." The pen slipped out of her fingers. "Am I supposed to thank you?" "I have to say, I'm a little hurt that I didn't hear about it from you." She snorted and tucked an unruly lock of hair behind an ear--it wasn't 'getting long' by any measure she was used to, but the moment was quickly coming when she'd have to have it trimmed or start telling people that she was growing it out, and neither option was appealing. "Don't flatter yourself." "Heaven forbid." His blandness fooled neither of them. "Aren't I almost the brother you never had?" "Does 'the distant cousin who always got my clothes muddy and told me there were monsters in the closet' count for anything?" "Hmm." Shigure came to stand behind her; with her kneeling at the table, he towered over her. She shivered before his fingers touched her shoulder. "And here I took such care not to get you all dirty, Rin-chan." The flight response his touch triggered channeled into formality--before she could think, her body had made the minute adjustments needed to place her in proper seiza, hands resting lightly on her thighs. Shigure made a soft "tsk" of amusement; whether at her response or the awkward way she'd gone about it was irrelevant. Only his faintly mocking tone mattered. "Stop it," she hissed. His hand came to rest on the back of her neck. "Still a good girl from a good family, after everything? Wear what you want and do what you have to, and at the end of the day you can still sit properly and paint and arrange flowers, and maybe still get married to a respectable husband from an appropriate--" She swore at him then, vicious words that had no place in the mouth of the girl he was describing, and he took his hand away. "Did you know the old aunts wanted to have you married off? If Akito hadn't been so possessive, even of you, it might have happened months ago, and there'd have been nothing you or Ha-kun could have done about it. They complained that she'd ruined your looks by doing what she did to you, and that your looks were what would sell you, given...everything." "Shut up," Rin whispered, not trusting her voice. "What kind of sick enjoyment are you getting out of this?" "'Enjoyment'? I'm just giving you information." A fingertip traced the errant strand of hair that had escaped again. "It would have taken you away from the Sohma." "I would have killed myself first." "Possibly." He stepped away at last, walking around the table so she could see him. "You're remarkably hard to kill, pretty little bell." He knelt opposite her, the formality hanging as strangely from his bones as from hers, and the mockery left his voice. "You're stronger than you think. Your heart is beating. You still make beautiful things." Anger became incredulity, became exhaustion. "Please, Gure-nii, tell me this isn't all your idea of an encouraging speech." The slightest smile flitted across his lips. "Maybe it's my way of saying I'm the kind of brother who didn't stop you from walking into the fire." "There're better ways to teach children that fire's hot." "But then I wouldn't get to see what's left after everything's burned away." More than the sentiment, his candidness turned her stomach. "You're so twisted." "And you wouldn't have let me stop you if I'd tried." He stood again, moved towards the doorway. As he passed her, he touched the top of her head. The shirt she'd put on exposed most of her back, giving him a clear view of the painful way her muscles knotted as she kept herself from flinching. "For what it's worth, I do wish you well." "Go to hell," she said, very softly, and he left her alone. ********** "and right there for a minute I knew you so well" --Tori Amos, "In the Springtime of His Voodoo" (Boys For Pele) ********** #5 (late August 2000) Evenings spent with only each other for company were rare--Kyo was spending more and more time helping out at the dojo, Kunimitsu often worked late, and even when he wasn't spending the night Haru often stayed until after Kazuma had gone to bed. Rin found it easy to forget that she and Kazuma were the house's only formal residents. But with school about to resume, Haru and Kyo had suddenly rediscovered the homework they'd neglected over the break, and evenings were more peaceful than they'd been in weeks. So much quiet had disturbed her for the first month after she'd come to stay there, having already spent so long in silence. Keeping her hands busy helped her to center herself, along with one of the small skills she'd learned during that time: if she stopped listening for other human voices, it took little effort to become aware of other noises that hinted at motion and life. The small fountain in the entryway murmured with water, pages rustled as Kazuma read, her own pens and brushes whispered across paper, and Rin slipped away in the sounds. *Mindfulness,* Kazuma named it when she tried to describe what happened when her eyes unfocused and she drifted off. The word made her think of early mornings and meditation, the parts of his life's rhythm she slept through, oblivious. He was easy to keep house for, even for a girl with no experience in such matters; he made no demands on her, leaving her to see what needed doing or to appropriate one of Kunimitsu's chores from under him. The assistant protested less with each passing week, leaving more and more of the house to her as her strength returned, while he spent more time tending the dojo itself. Kazuma made no comment on how late in the day she slept, even before Haru quietly made him aware of how hard it was for her to fall asleep; he and Kunimitsu fended for themselves if they returned from their daily inspection of the grounds before she woke, and Rin said nothing about the state in which they left the kitchen. She half-registered it when the sound of turning pages stopped and Kazuma closed his book. "I'm going to turn in, Isuzu." He kept his voice low, to avoid jarring her out of her concentration on her own book. "Mm. Good night." "Sleep well," he said, turning toward the door. There he hesitated; Rin glanced up and found him watching her. "Isuzu, did Shigure-kun upset you?" "No." The lie came automatically, and the disbelief in the gaze he leveled at her reminded her of why she'd avoided his home and the safety he'd offered for so long. "He was just pulling my strings." "Would you like to talk about it?" He came and knelt beside her, carefully respecting the physical boundary she was accustomed to. She shook her head, and after a few minutes of thoughtful silence he moved to get up again. Without her direction, her hand reached out and caught his sleeve; they both looked down in surprise at her clenched fingers. "He said the old aunts wanted Akito to arrange a marriage for me." "That won't happen." "No--no, he said Akito wouldn't, but... What were they imagining?" It was suddenly desperately important to say it aloud. "It must have been political, some old man...maybe someone who liked other men. Someone who already had an heir, so he'd never touch me and find out that I was--the way I was--" "A sham marriage," Kazuma filled in. "But I don't believe Jyuunishi have ever married outside the clan." "Why would he tell me that?" Kazuma rested his hand over hers, squeezing gently. "I can't imagine them trying it now, but even if they did I wouldn't allow it. This is your home until you're ready to build yourself a new one." Rin opened her mouth to thank him, but no sound emerged. She tightened her fingers in the fabric of his kimono, distracted by the smooth feel of the cloth against her skin, and shut her eyes as she leaned closer and hugged him. It was awkward and hesitant, made worse by the way her instincts tried to make her jerk back; after a startled pause Kazuma's arm went around her shoulders. He held her loosely, with no attempt at keeping her against him, but the practiced ease of it relaxed her. "I don't know how to do this," she mumbled, torn between staying where she was and pulling away in embarrassment. There was no electric connection between his unfamiliar body and her own, not like the one that drew her into Haru's arms. "I'm honored, child. Truly." He let her go with the caution of a man trying not to spook an animal, reminding her of the way he'd moved around her when she was a child left in his care while the family scrambled to decide what to do with her. ********** #6 (early September 2000) The phone started ringing as Kazuma came in through the back door; he picked it up just as it was starting its third ring. "Sohma Kazuma." Dead silence on the line. "May I help you?" On the other end, a woman took the sort of breath his students took before throwing bad punches with all their might. "I would like to speak with my daughter." "No one's daughter lives here." "Kazuma!" That particular tone hadn't changed since Rin's mother had been a child, easily frustrated and quick to take it out on others. Kazuma had dim memories of her growing up outside the Main House, a girl roughly his own age. They had paid each other little attention. "I apologize, Hoshika-san, but I was unaware that you had a daughter." Steel crept into his voice. "Parenthood is a noble ambition, but I don't believe it's possible to attain it overnight." "I would like...to speak...with Sohma Isuzu." Each word ground out individually. "You may not." Kazuma hung up the phone and left it off the hook, and walked away from the steady buzz of the dialtone. ********** #7 (early September 2000) "...I think we might have to get an extra room to use as a closet." Rin frowned at the monitor, adjusting it to get a better look at the rental agency's website. "We could just buy a house," Haru pointed out. "Be spoiled rich kids for a while." "Anyone who saw how much clothing we have to store would say we already _are_ spoiled rich kids." "Too bad we can't share clothes." "Too bad your shoulders are twice as wide as mine." "Mm. Too bad you have an incredible rack." Rin tried to think of an appropriate response that wouldn't simply slide off the deadpan look he was giving her. "Shut up." He almost smiled. "Make me?" She changed the subject back instead. "Do you really want to start with a house? We'd probably just be rattling around in one." "So we need..." Haru slowly rotated his thumb ring while he thought. "Storage, sure. And you said you wanted tatami and futons in the bedroom." Even staring off into space, he still sounded as mildly charmed as he had when she'd first mentioned wanting a partially traditional home. *You just don't seem the type.* "If we get a place with shoji, we can use part of the living room as a guest room if we need one," he continued. "And I guess you'll need a studio, right?" "I'll...what?" "Won't you? You used to say you wanted one, and you've been drawing all the time since you started living here." "It's just to have something to do--" "And you said you wanted to try painting again." "I..." She trailed off, remembering the way he'd watched her fingering the paints in an art store they'd gone to, cupping tubes of acrylics and oils in her palms as if their weight would help her decide between them. "If you don't wind up using it, we can always store clothes in it," he said, and somehow the mock-seriousness of the suggestion ended that part of the conversation. Rin shook her head and began thinking about windows and whether they wanted to be sure of having a place to plant things. ********** #8 (late September 2000) "...I don't think you should ask me," Haru said, tilting his head back as if the sky had become unexpectedly interesting. The only change in his expression was a faint squint against the sun, but Kyo had been his sparring partner for long enough to catch the way his body shifted into a more flexible state of readiness. The two of them were alone on the school roof, well out of anyone else's earshot. "Sensei writes about that kind of thing--" "No way in hell I'm asking the bloody dog," Kyo retorted. "'specially not when it involves Tohru." "Ah." Haru conceded the point with a shrug. "Shihan...?" "...gave me the basic speech when I was a kid, but it was _really_ embarrassing, and--yeah." "Mm. My parents didn't tell me anything." "It's not like I need to know right now, but I kinda...thought it'd be good to know." "Not under Shigure-sensei's roof, huh?" Kyo had a sudden uncomfortable thought. "You and Isuzu haven't...um...done anything there, have you?" They'd spent the night once or twice when Tohru had invited them, to his acute embarrassment. "Not really." Haru sighed. "What kind of stuff do you want to ask?" Kyo hadn't really thought that far ahead. The first thing that came to mind was, "How old were you when you...?" "Fifteen." Kyo blinked at the ready reply, and Haru, if anything, stared harder at the wisps of cloud passing overhead. "Right after my birthday. So she was almost seventeen." Before Kyo could react, Haru hitched himself up onto the narrow railing separating them from the long drop off the school roof. The hint of wariness on his face made Kyo scowl. "What?" "Nothing. I just figure you're less likely to try to punch me for being a pervert if I'm up here." A quick glance down reminded them both of how far away the ground was--too far for even Kyo to feel comfortable with the idea of a landing. "Look, if I'm _asking_--" he began. "Yeah, and you're already all red in the face," Haru interrupted. "And I don't really want you to get all weird at me or Rin just 'cause _you_ asked personal questions." "I won't get weird at her." Haru snorted, finally looking at him again. "Right. That's totally why no one had to tell her when you figured out we're sleeping together. There's some other reason why you had that shell-shocked look on your face?" "Well, maybe--" "She said you ran away." "I did NOT...um... " Kyo's face burned harder. That first conversation with Isuzu had definitely been even terser than usual, even though he hadn't really been able to picture her with Haru. At the time, he hadn't seen them together in years; it was on subsequent occasions that he noticed little things, like the way she was just enough shorter than Haru to fit her head comfortably under his chin. Little things that were too innocent to justify the discomfort they made him feel. "Well, I won't, okay?" "Anything I tell you, you'll probably picture when you look at her," Haru said flatly. "Not 'cause you're _you_, but that's what people do." A strange expression crossed his face, something no amount of sparring history allowed Kyo to read. "And we're not like you and Honda-san, so I don't know how much help--" "What, 'cause you don't remember what it's like the first time?" "Not likely to forget that." Haru rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. "No, it's just--this kind of conversation probably goes something like, 'what do girls like?', you know? And Rin... I don't think Honda-san'd like what we..." He laughed suddenly, sliding off the railing to lean back against it. "That probably made it worse. We're not real kinky or anything. Rin's just got a lot of things she doesn't like thinking about, so I make her not think about them." He leveled a serious look at Kyo. "That's my advice, if you want it. It's okay if it's not always about warm fuzzy feelings or how cute Honda-san is in the morning." The blush was not going away any time soon. "Anything else?" "Just obvious stuff. Ask her if what you're doing feels good. Be real gentle unless she asks you not to be." It was only a small consolation that Haru was looking uncomfortable too. "Does that help?" "A little. Thanks." "Sure." Below them, the bell signaling the end of lunch sounded. "Have you guys decided where you're going to live after graduation?" "Shishou has a friend I might study with in Saitama." "That's not too far away." Haru glanced down over the railing, watching the other students' slow migration into the building. "She's really okay with leaving?" "Think so. It'd just be for a little while, and she keeps talking about how it'll be an adventure. Uotani says they've all gotta go do different things so they can get together and talk about it." "Think Honda-san really believes it?" "I think she doesn't want to have to choose between finding somewhere else around here and staying in that house after the others move out." "Yeah." They shared a moment of silence, each thinking about the small household that had sheltered all of the Jyuunishi at some point, in some way. ********** #9 (late September 2000) Rin was half-seriously reaching the conclusion that Haru was a nomad at heart. He only slept in two places--his room and hers--but in the hours between school and sleep he seemed to be constantly on the move between the Main House, Shigure's house, Kazuma's house, and the dojo. It was still a little surprising when he arrived at Kazuma's immediately after class with Tohru in tow, both of them still in uniform; he kissed Rin hello and disappeared to his karate lesson after promising he'd be around in the evening. Tohru, when Rin let her in, showed every sign of having something on her mind, but whatever it was, she talked around it: The weather was lovely. It was nice that the evenings were cooler. The mochi Rin had made (following Tohru's carefully-written instructions) was delicious. Kyo was _still_ getting taller, and did Rin think that was a little strange? Not that Tohru minded... "Stop," Rin snapped, after nearly an hour. "Is there something you really want to talk about? This is giving me a headache." "I--" Tohru's chatter came to an abrupt halt as her momentum disappeared. "I don't want to trouble you, Isuzu-san." "You're not. And you listen to me all the time." There was still a sizzle of annoyance in her voice; Rin stopped, made herself continue in a more neutral tone. "What is it?" "Kyo-kun and I are probably moving away for a year or two after we graduate." "I know." Her throat tightened, gave the words a strange edge. "Don't you want to?" "It seems like a nice place. I think I'll like it there." "Scared you'll be homesick?" A minute shake of the head. "It's very close by train. Yuki-kun promises he'll come visit--" "Kyo must be thrilled." "--but it won't be the same," Tohru continued, as if to herself. "Everything will be different, and I...I think I'm scared of coming back afterwards." Rin frowned, at a loss. "Afraid of coming _back_?" "Everything will be different," Tohru repeated. "Everyone will change..." "Oh." Tohru started to say something else, then put her hand over her mouth; Rin wasn't sure if it was words or the beginnings of a sob that she was trying to smother. "Are you scared everyone's going to forget you?" The gentleness in her own voice startled her so much that it disappeared. "Look, you--don't you know how hard everyone'll try to keep you?" Tohru straightened up at the harsher tone. "It _is_ close by train," Rin continued. "You're going to have Sohmas dropping in on you until you're sick of all of us. And then you'll come back, and things will be fine." Tohru stared at her, still fighting tears back. "And if you really don't want to go, tell Kyo to stuff it. Or I will." She ran out of words abruptly, because Tohru was crying. ********** #10 (late September 2000) "Was Honda-san okay?" Haru asked later, his head heavy on her shoulder. Kazuma had gone out for the evening, leaving them to take advantage of the privacy by soaking together. The deep tub kept the water hot a little more efficiently than was entirely healthy; Haru sounded slightly vague and dizzy. "I think so." Rin scooped a handful of water and drizzled it over his shoulders. "Don't pass out." "I won't. Just had a good workout." "So I see." He'd thrown himself back into karate practice over the summer, after letting it slide a little, and had the bruises to prove it. "She cried for a while." "What'd you do?" "I panicked." She pushed his weight off her chest a little, letting herself sink further under the water. "I don't know how to make people feel better. If you thought she was feeling like that, why did you bring her to me?" "Something Kyo said made it seem like she might need to know she has something to come home to besides Shigure-sensei's place." "And I'm the one who's never there." "Yeah." "Well, what she actually learned from this experiment of yours is that I'm awful at hugging people." "...it probably made her feel better that you tried?" "I made her _cry_," Rin said, and Haru sat up, lifting her into his lap. She shivered as the air hit her shoulders. "I don't know. She looked like it might've helped. Maybe she thought Kyo would feel bad if she cried in front of him. She says she's excited to go, but..." "Bet it's scary." He kissed her temple absently. "It feels weird enough that we're gonna live off Sohma property. Imagine a whole different city." "Not yet." The idea was intimidating; two months of knowing she could live anywhere she chose held less sway than she liked over nineteen years of soul-deep certainty that she would live and die within their family's grasp. It was hard not to envy Kyo's ability to run away at the first possible opportunity. *Maybe he wouldn't be able to either, if he'd been the one Akito took--* She crushed the thought before it went any further, swallowing the immediate terror that burned her throat. Haru was very still under her, giving her the illusion of room to breathe. She tried not to think about that, either--that he was so used to the fleeting moments when her mind turned against her that his reflexes had changed to accommodate them. "We should go travel," she said instead, after a too-long silence. "When you're out of school." "After we're married?" "You just like saying that." Haru grinned, not denying it. "Fine. After we're married. Is there anywhere you want to go?" "Shanghai," he replied immediately. "Germany. The Grand Canyon. New Zealand. Anywhere." The water was finally starting to cool; Rin climbed out of the tub and wrapped herself in a thick towel. "Maybe start with one place." Haru shook his head. "If we're not going anywhere for a while, I don't want to decide. Then we can still pick anyplace we want." "As long as you don't drown in there first." He took both the hint and the towel she held out for him, and began covering the tub. She came over to help, and he reached out to wipe stray drops of water off her collarbone. "Anyplace we want," he said again, and she smiled. [fin.]