Author's Note: Here it is, the dreaded first fic of an aspiring author. I've always read fanfiction, so here's my version of what was never explained in the relationship between Haru and Rin. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: It doesn't…sob belong sniffle to meh. tear
All I Ever Had Was You
Rin looked up, her long black hair falling over her face, obscuring one smoky grey eye. The visible eye narrowed, dilating, like a cat about to bite the hand that feeds it. Her brows furrowed as she saw him, staring at her from the doorway, a bouquet of roses clutched in one hand. Anger washed over her features as she recognized the silhouette—the spiked hair, the belts and buckles and rings that hung almost randomly off his garments. In a rush of boiling temper, she grabbed the cobalt vase beside her bed and hurled it at him. He did not move, and the vase hit him on the shoulder and fell to the floor with a crash, shattering into a hundred pieces that skittered across the over-sanitized linoleum of the hospital floor. Her eyes never left the shadowed figure's clouded face, her red-hot glare burning into his—if she noticed the pain in his gaze, the hurt of her reaction to his presence, she made no indication of it. The hand gripping the roses clenched tighter, the pale skin on the knuckles turning white under the pressure. He said nothing.
A low, menacing growl issued from Rin. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice silky and venomous at the same time. The man took a step into the room, his thick soled shoes crunching carelessly on the shards of the former vase. Rin sat completely upright, pulling her blankets up around her scarcely-clad form. Holding them to her chest in a vise-like grip, she struggled to control the wave of emotion that threatened bile to rise in her throat. "I told you, I don't want to see you any more." The contour of the man just bowed his head and shifted his feet a little more, unintentionally causing the glass to crunch again. He looked back up, and their eyes met.
She held his gaze only for a little while before she had to look away. "Haru…" her voice was weak, soft, like she almost regretted what she had said and what she was about to say. At the mention of his name, Hatsuharu's head lifted slightly, hopeful. Rin shook her head, her long locks obscuring her face entirely and the tears that sprang to her eyes. "I'm sorry Haru." She whispered, still clutching the sheets. Finally, the man moved to sit on the edge of her bed, reaching slowly out to hold her hand. He gently placed the dozen roses on the sheets beside her. "It's alright Rin…"
"No. No…Akito found out. He's angry, Hatsuharu. You know he doesn't take things…well." Her movements were loath, almost apologetic as she retracted her hand from his, closing her eyes and biting her lips against the tears. "Akito doesn't have to know, Rin. We are under no obligation…"
"What do you mean, 'under no obligation'! He's the head of the family! He knows…he'll find out everything eventually!" She paused, and a tense silence ensnared them both.
"Not if we're careful Rin!" Hatsuharu insisted. "You won't get hurt again, I promise." Rin was clinging to the bed sheets like she was clinging to a lifeline. He deliberately reached out again to take her hand, misinterpreting her white knuckles as fear, not the anger and frustration that it actually was. In a flash, Rin yanked her hand out of his grasp, and sent the roses sitting next to her flying to join the vase fragments on the floor. "I don't need you anymore Haru! You can't help me!" she cried, twisting away and curling into a ball, her head under the sheets. "Leave me ALONE!"
It was like a dark miasma settled over Hatsuharu's countenance—his eyes clouded over, narrowed, and went black and shiny at a glance. He stiffened, standing up, his back straight, his mouth in a tight line. Without a backward glance, Black Haru swept from Rin's room in a flurry of black trench coat and heavy soled boots. The crunching snap of rose stems and glass and the harsh, abrupt slam of the door sent another wave of fresh sobs from the quivering Rin, who lay huddled under her covers like a wounded dog licking her wounds.
"I…I can't save you Haru. I love you, and I can't save you."