Author's Notes: This chapter is... well, has more sexual innuendos, profanity. You are warned, my kittens. A lot more history too. I can't seem to go forward without sufficiently pulling everything from the past for some reason. Again, I'm kind of rusty with Fruits Basket plot, so if there is anything wrong or inconsistent in the plot with the anime/manga, please forgive. I know that everything is convoluted... to tell you the truth... I'm confused too, but ha, plot what plot?
Chapter 6
Waking up was strange. Waking up had always been a strange. Waking up meant strange particles of thoughts, who I was, where I was, what I was, crumbling down a foggy brain. But waking up today was different. I blinked, darting a hand forward as if in search of something, and before I could stop myself, "Kyou" slipped out into the dead quiet of the room. But there was no kitten curled up in sleep against me, nor was there a Kyou asleep straddling beside me, nor was there going to be a Kyou, suddenly awake and wide eyed, spluttering wordlessly at the sight of the two of us, naked as the day as we were born, our limbs piled together, and then a Kyou screaming every curse word under the sun.
Oh yes, I started laughing. I remembered what I choose to remember, like the exact shade of red rising to his cheeks, out of both embarrassment and rage, followed by his hopeless almost miserable screaming on something like "don't you have any concept of modesty?!?!" and how he stalked away with a blanket in hand when I made no response. I laughed that day too, when he walked away muttering threats, closing the door behind him, I laughed like I had never before. It was just all so ridiculous. Everything. The way Kyou reacted! And modesty? What had gotten into him? It wasn't like Kyou had anything I hadn't seen then. It wasn't like... and that was moment when I'd felt it, a strange warmth stirring from the depth of confusion and...desire. It was that moment when I'd felt the thudding of my heart, racing ahead beyond any logic, a warmth that I then tried to quell quickly, desperately, somehow, anyhow, faster, faster, god, KYOU!
"Uhh...!!" I moaned into deep-seated revulsion as self-pleasure shook me over.
They say every boy discovers himself. Well, I discovered myself that day, in more than one way, and I hated it, despised it. The way I was. That new burgeoning feeling inside of me.
"Fuck..." I crammed a fist against my forehead. "Freak. Baka ushi. Baka ushi. Baka ushi!" I repeated.
When I saw Kyou again after that incident, he didn't greet me with his trademark jovial but threatening "how's it going? Baka ushi?" he scowled instead, just threateningly, as much threat as a 12-year-old could muster, anyway.
I think I nodded politely at him, and then, I remember a flicker of surprise, and... hurt? It lasted no more than a second, I think, but I remembered. Everything went back to the way they were after that, at least, on surface they did. Kyou and I drifted back to bickering and fighting. He'd win and I'd turn into Black Haru and kick his ass, and then he'd end up having to clean up whatever mess I'd made, until I'd be rudely awaken by his rough shakes telling me to clean up after my own mess and etc. etc. blah blah lecture. So much pointless fighting, but I couldn't stop myself from challenging him. I needed something, something as precise and single-minded as a fighting that hid temporarily the more complicated thoughts I'd have of him. Then one day, Kyou, like Yuki, left the Sohma household. That's when I started wearing skin tight shirts and leather pants, got piercings, got a tattoo, listened to rock music, started saving up for a motorcycle, and there was Rin.
I really do think Rin is quite possibly the most beautiful woman there ever was, a woman, who was barely a woman, but who knew too much to be a girl. There's age and weariness in her eyes, not the settled kind you'd find in aged wine, but a delicate fragileness as that of priceless china. In short, Rin was a broken spirit, and somehow, we had that much in common, our congenial hidden self-loathing and sometimes explosive temperament behind perfect porcelain. We made a good match, as fire and a match did, mutually destructive. It wasn't... love, but I needed her. I needed her because I needed to lie to myself. I wanted to erase the burn that haunted me since that incident with Kyou, whatever the hell it was, and replace it with a yearning, a yearning for this beautiful woman lying in my arms, even if only physically! God knows I tried, selfishly, unabashedly. We never talked about what bothered us. Somehow we both knew we were using each other, but I thought it harmless. Then one day, she came to me, and we did what we usually did, listened to J-Rock, smoked whatever she stashed in the headboard, and "made love." We did what we usually did, until she started crying. Rin never cried, I'd managed about as much as a wince with her, but she started sobbing against my chest.
"Gomen ne, Haru. Gomen!" she choked.
I knew something was wrong then, but I didn't ask. I never ask. That day was the first and last time I really saw her, but I still remember her smile as she walked toward the door to leave. The sun was setting, dying her eyes burgundy.
"Haru... You're good, Haru. You're still good, don't give up like me. Don't let it get to you. Don't be afraid," she smiled and left, as light as a whimsical shadow.
Rin never smiled.