CHAPTER 3

-HARU-

Haru stayed on the floor for a long time, pondering. Thinking about Momiji and Rin, mulling them over in my head, until they seemed to be a single unit. MomijiRin. The thing, the person he loved. He fingered the looped cross that he wore around his neck, his fingers sliding down the pewter. He'd given a necklace identical to this one to Rin the day she broke up with him. He could remember the look on her face that morning, stress and anxiety slipping aside for a moment, to be replaced with that sweet, girlish delight that she'd only reveal to those she loved.

"I love it, Haru! It's wonderful! You made it yourself, didn't you?"

"Yup. 'Course."

"It's amazing."

And then her perfect laugh, a brief kiss.

Three hours later, it happened. She did it. Left.

Forever.

Haru sighed slowly, dropped the necklace, and gripped his head in his hands. How had it happened? She'd seemed so happy that morning. And then, what was it that he'd done, dragging Momiji into it all? Momiji was young for his age, probably didn't really understand it—the pain he felt, that tormented him like a burning thirst. Longing for the feel of Rin's silky hair, the glint of her dark yes, the brush of her soft lips—

No. He couldn't think about that. Not now. Who was he kidding with all this jealousy business? Rin had moved on. And if it was Shigure that she'd chosen over him, then that was her concern. Maybe he could never move on, but there was no need to try and win her back. That time of his life was over.

That alone was hard enough to accept. But everything with Momiji…

How could he have done this? Convinced Momiji, innocent little Momiji, to go out with him, and then… kissed him… in the boys' bathroom, in the middle of the afternoon, out of the blue, on school grounds…

The more he thought about it, the worse it got, until the very idea made Haru nauseous. Honda-san had said something about calling Hatori, but that wasn't what he needed. It was…Rin. He needed Rin. But never…he couldn't…she was gone. He had to accept that, if he wanted her to live happily, without his shadow lingering over her horizon.

A few hours later, Momiji came back in. Not all the way, just enough so that his silhouette was clear against the growing twilight outside. "Haru?" he asked tentatively.

Haru didn't move. "Is Honda-san there?" he asked simply.

"Nope. They all went home." A pause. "And now it's time for us to."

"I'm going to stay here tonight, Momiji," Haru stated, the thought coming into existence only as he spoke it.

"Haru…" the little rabbit pleaded, an edge of begging creeping into his not-yet-matured voice.

"No. I'm staying here."

He stepped fully inside, so that his small, round face and golden curls were cast into sharp relief in the dirty light. His brown eyes glinted with a premature determination, the only thing that made him more than a rather thin cherub. "Haru, you need to come."

"No. I said no, now will you just piss off?" he asked, beginning to get angry.

Before he could say another word, Momiji stumbled forward, bending down, kissing Haru's protesting mouth so that the desperate "no" turned into a long, low sigh. This boy, days younger than Haru himself, was so much to him. Not as much as Rin—not even close—and not as much as Yuki, but still a lot. A whole hell of a lot.

He pulled away after what must have been about three seconds, chocolate eyes surprisingly focused. "Now," he said, "we need to get you-"

This time, Haru was the one to shut him up, pulling him back, kissing him with all the energy he had or ever could have. He wasn't Black, just desperate. He knew that it was pathetic of him to be using Momiji like this, as a tool to block out Rin, but he was so frantic that it was the only thing to do. It worked brilliantly, blocking out everything, so that there was nothing to do, nothing to think about doing.

This must be what drugs are like, he thought drowsily, several minutes later, sprawled on the floor with Momiji next to him. Nothing that you'll ever love like real life, but something to block out unwanted emotions. Numbing shit that's better than pain…sickly sweet in place of savory, in order to get rid of the sour. But it would only morph into pure sickliness afterwards, without the sweet. Still, if he kept it up forever, then it would never be a problem. Always the numbing sweetness, always….nothing more…

"No," Momiji said simply, stumbling to his feet.

Haru's eyes focused on the rabbit boy's small, uncharacteristically serious face. Like before, he felt a horrible wrenching sensation in his stomach and struggled to contain it. "I'm so sorry," he began to stammer, then stopped. No more. Rin's leaving had done something to him, something that he wasn't going to make others suffer for. He swallowed, gazed into Momiji's soft brown eyes, then took the small boy's face in his hands and kissed the forehead gently, then the lips, quickly, sparingly, before dropping his hands and stumbling up.

Haru turned away from the boy he cared about so much, feeling the Blackness coming on and welcoming it. Doubts, thoughts of Rin, Momiji, Yuki, and Akito, fled his mind, giving way to blinding fury at himself and the world.

"No, Haru, stop!" Momiji protested.

"Shut up, rabbit kid," he snarled, not looking back. Before the uncontrollability faded, he dashed to the one dirty window above the sink, and, with a single, powerful punch, knocked the glass out. Momiji was protesting, and blood was streaming down Haru's hand, but he didn't feel either pain. All that mattered, the functional part of his mind recognized, was that he got out of there before turning White again. He sprang up on the sill and jumped out, right into the flashlight beam of a night guard.

"You stop right there, punk. You're coming with me."

"Am I now?" Haru growled.

Then the guard saw the dark fury in the boy's eyes and the blood soaking his clothes. Unwelcome fear coursed through his slightly overweight body, and he licked his already moist lips, reaching for his walkie-talkie, but before he could press the button to transmit his voice to a rescuer, the boy lunged at him. There was a flash of red and then nothing.

Leaving the unconscious guard on the ground behind him, Haru darted over to the fence, swinging over it. He was starting to feel his hand again, which was a sign of his returning Whiteness, and knew that he had to move quickly if he wanted to get away from Momiji by then. He sprinted to his bike, slapped his leather riding gloves on over his bloody hands and his tinted goggles over his angry eyes, and started off, moving at an absurdly fast pace for the thin bicycle. His breathing was heavy, and the redness in his mind was slowly fading into wisps, and his throat was constricting, while tears struggled to escape the burning heat of his eyes.

No. Stay cool. Stay calm, if you can't stay angry. You have to do this. For her.

Akito would almost certainly send after him as soon as he found out about this, but Haru didn't care. That son of a bitch would never catch him. He just had to keep going, to get away from it all. If he was completely out of the picture, things would get better for Rin and Momiji. All the people that he'd selfishly pulled into this mess would be released. As for him…everything would fade, after a while.

Everything except for Rin, but that was okay. It was better that way.

Car horns, angry lights, and eventually even sirens attempted to hinder his progress, but he ignored them, plowing on.

And that was how, in the middle of the night, Hatsuharu Sohma escaped.