A/N: Finales are the best—well let's hope this one is up to par. Sorry for the delay…Thanks for all your fantastic comments! You guys are too kind!

Warning: Slight Lime!


MakieToAyame: As much as I would love to turn Arima into a machete bearing, crazed lunatic -oh wait, he is!- I'm not sure it really works in this story. I could rewrite the ending that way, but fluff tends to prevail when I am the writer. Too much tragedy does not become the young couple.

evil tsubasa: Can't say I would mind Arima growing rigid from my touch. Oops! (slaps hand) Bad Lina. Sorry! This part has it's ups and downs as Yukino tries to find the balance between his darkness and the light she longs to bring to him. I am waffy by nature, but I find this to be the most realistic ending. Am I wrong?

Rowan23: 'Great reads'? HAHA! Thanks for the compliment. I want to write more Kare Kano—but I am being consumed by two 'Fruits Basket' fics and a 'Rurouni Kenshin.' KK is so much fun to write because the emotions are always running high. I hope you consider some of my other fics 'great reads' and that you post some of your own up as well!

Sayuri: You're very first Kare Kano fic? Well bravo! (issues round of applause) You were so sweet to read POHB -Plumb on Her Back- and then jump to 'Tempest Desire.' Thanks so much! You were correct to go with your instincts concerning my style -by choosing C-. However, I hope there are still a few surprises that you didn't expect. (devilish laugh)

Her Spell: Yeah…the sexual side of Arima is almost more frightening than the thought of his violent side. Personally, I think it is more likely that he would mentally harm Yukino through sexual violence than through physical violence. It's improbable that he would ever try to hurt her out of rage or anger. Lust, however—it's a different kind of passion entirely.

DanyChic: Thanks for the compliment! I hope this chapter isn't as offensive as I fear it might be. (cowers behind laptop)

Cheshire Grin: Silly! You were the one who argued that Yukino wasn't forceful enough! I commend you for choosing 'B'. That's so like you. Now that you have had the time to recover from a few 'cheese' edits, I hope you do not cringe all that much at a final look at this part. -p.s.: no matter what…the ending was just too damn fluffy to include all that imagery- Sorry!


Special Thanks -for prereading- to the Cat with the Chesire Grin!
Disclamer: No! They aren't mine (pinches herself) I'm not dreaming!

Tempest Desire

Part III

Souichiro's eyes went unfocused for a moment as he took in Yukino's proposal. Show her? Is that what she had said? His left foot moved, and then the right, as he stepped away from her, shaking his head insistently. "No," he said in a low murmur. "No, Miya—"

She was in front of him, her small fingers seeking him hungrily at his waist. "If it scares you this much, Arima—I want to know." But then her head lowered with a defeated air. "A long time ago—I told you that you could depend on me. That wasn't a lie. I'm not going to run away or let you do the same just because you are scared of what might happen." Her eyes defied him now. "How dare you think so little of me!"

Souichiro blanched. Here it comes, he thought. She is going to explode. Her head will become three times the size that it is normally. Her eyes will burn with a fiery vengeance, and a snake-like tongue will emerge from that wide mouth as she unloads all of her vindictive emotions. His shoulders shrank as he waited.

But instead of words, an impact to his cheek left him off balanced until his body slumped to the floor at her feet. Arima peered up at her uncertainly as his left hand rubbed the offending welt. "What are you—?"

But she was crying. Or—almost. There was a collection of tears that she held stubbornly at the base of her ginger eyes. Even more apparent was the trembling lip that betrayed her unsteady breath. Arima made to stand, but she buckled to her knees in front of him. His hands itched to touch her. He wanted to feel those tears on his skin so that he knew this moment was real, that this raw display of sentiment was for him. Perhaps it would convince him that he deserved her after all.

"How could you ever believe that you are in this alone?" She asked with incredulity. "That whatever dilemma you may find yourself in will be only yours to handle?" The seal that was Yukino's obstinacy broke, and a tear snaked from the shelter of her lashes. She fell into his arms with the same earnestness that she had clung to his waist. "Oh Arima," she whispered nuzzling her head into his neck.

Souichiro's hands tightened around her, molding the writhing body to him. He didn't know what to say. She was crying because of him. He wanted to dry her tears and kiss away her sorrow, but his body felt like marble. Heavy and cold. This is entirely my fault, he realized. I did this to her. I made her cry!

'You are worthless.' 'You can't even protect the people you love!'

Souichiro's grip on her shook. No! That wasn't true at all. "I wanted to protect you from me!" He shouted at last—but for whose benefit, it was unclear. His voice filled the room, until it welled up in Yukino like a single melancholy balloon. "I couldn't let you really see me as I do myself because I thought you might learn to hate me. I don't—" Yukino felt his muscles tense around her. "I don't think I am meant to be happy."

Wrestling from the comfort of his arms, her eyes narrowed into slits. "Since when did you become such a wimp, Arima?" She interrogated. "You can study until you are delirious; you are a two-time national champion, not to mention second runner up, at Kendo; you have loving guardians who have done everything in their power to make you happy. What gives? All you have to do is accept it." She slipped her fingers under his chin, wrenching it upwards. "Choose happiness."

That was the same advice Asaba had given. Was it really that easy—to choose happiness? Wasn't that what he had been trying to do when he conceded to his love for Miyazawa freshman year? Even then—always there was that voice so similar to his own, convincing him that his efforts to forget his past were futile.

"It's not that simple," he grumbled

"Why?"

"You wouldn't understand," he said harshly while attempting to shrug off the grip of her probing eyes. Souichiro refused to let himself be cornered again. "I can't tell you. It's—it's crazy, Miyazawa. I just don't have control over it."

"When do you lose control?"

He noticed the words had faltered while she released them, as if she already knew the answer. Souichiro put his head in his hands like one gathering a small child away from a dangerous object. Why am I telling her all of this? He scolded himself.

'It's because you think she can save you.' The voice said. 'You still want to cling to misleading fantasies about her? But she cannot help you; she cannot bring you happiness. She will leave you when she realizes what you truly are.'

"Arima," her face was inches away from his.

Souichiro blinked. How long had she been talking? "Y—yes?"

She pronounced the words firmly. "When? When do you experience a loss of control?"

"I don't want to talk abo—"

"Tell me!" Yukino bellowed, watching her boyfriend flinch. "I want to know." The determination that sealed her expression was not to be taken lightly.

"When I'm with you," he whispered as though weakening.

She nodded, unsurprised. Her gaze drifted to the window, taking in the moon, which shadowed them in it's vibrant, red glow. "Why?" she asked, simply.

"I—" he tried to speak, but failed to produce anything that resembled logic. "I don't know," he said, resignedly.

Her mischievous glare was upon him now, it's intensity causing him discomfort. Souichiro always grew uneasy when he noticed that impish expression settling into her narrowed eyes. "What does it feel like?" She wanted to know.

Souichiro groaned. Of course she would try to pick him apart. Only Yukino would want to determine the mechanics of it. "I'm not a specimen, Miyazawa," he said with a laugh. "I'm—"

To his surprise, her grinning lips dared to plant a kiss on his chin. "But you are—you are my specimen." Her eyes flickered with lunacy in a way that he imagined a mad scientists' would.

Souichiro gave a short laugh. "Of course. How could I forget? Does this have anything to do with your plans for world domination?"

"Precisely," she divulged, stretching her slender form alongside him on the floor. "That's the plan. Date and marry a rich and intelligent man. Handsome too!" She piped. "Use him as a means to weasel my way into society. They will be dazzled by my brilliance and offer me a law degree in my second year. And after I conquer my way through legislature, they will implore me to take my place as Prime Minister." A maniacal laugh erupted from her lips.

Despite the twisted image she had concocted, Souichiro longed for the kind of life where Yukino could coexist by his side. Rather than agonize over it, he decided to placate her warped sense of humor. "Uh—I thought you said you wanted to take over the world."

Another giggle. "That comes later." She peered at him roguishly. "Oh, but don't worry, Arima. I won't discard you as I climb my way up the social ladder. You can be right beside me if you want."

He finally yielded to curling up on the hard floor beside her. "Yes, but will you have room for me in your bed with all the other lovers you will accumulate?" He teased.

"It'll be king sized."

Souichiro smirked with a resilient sigh. He was both amazed and relieved that Miyazawa could lighten the mood with such little effort. He knew that her current display of lively behavior was intended to cheer him up. "What am I going to do with you?" He asked shaking his head.

"Not break up with me," Yukino surprised him by saying quickly.

He glanced at her and saw the pleading sincerity in her eyes. I hurt her, he realized. A lot. "I'm sorry, Miyazawa. I never meant to—"

"Just don't do it again," she warned with a hesitant laugh.

Souichiro wanted to snicker at the demonic face she gave him then, but the truth of it was—nothing had really changed. Her going over there, her telling him she wanted to help—none of that changed the person he really was. "Miyazawa?"

"Yes?"

"Sometimes I—I get jealous when I see another male talking to you," he confessed.

"Well—that's natural. I think it's a part of human nature."

"But sometimes—I think it isn't so…human. Sometimes it makes me violent. It makes me want to…" He stopped, ashamed.

She was silent for a while. "Like you were when you kissed me before?"

"Yes."

She hesitated. "Is that what it is, Arima? Violence? Is that what you are convinced has made you so much like your father?"

The mentioning of his father quieted his tongue for a moment. Eventually he continued with, "I think it's more than that." How could he tell her? He didn't understand it himself. And how would she react? No! I have to try, he thought with resolve. Souichiro glanced sideways at her to find the round eyes watching him expectantly. It was then that he decided to put his faith in her completely. "I feel like there is another part of me," he began, "separate from the person you know—a part that persuades me I am worthless, that I will never be happy. It's strange," he said awkwardly.

"That sounds like a guilty conscience to me—or your insecurities getting the best of you."

"No. It's not like that. Not really. It's something more—evil than that." Souichiro quieted at the last remark, a silent berate deferring his thoughts. Not too much at once, he scolded. The last thing he wanted was for Miyazwawa to run from his room in terror.

"You are not evil, Arima."

He noticed she was looking at him tenderly, and matched her gaze. "But do you ever have unnatural thoughts about me?" He asked.

She laughed. "Well sometimes—I am so overcome with my feelings that I just want to smother you!"

Souichiro blushed. "Uh—Miyazawa. Smother me?"

Her giggles subsided. "Well not violently." The smile remained.

"I don't want anyone else to have you," he announced almost coldly.

Yukino felt a shiver pass over her back. "I don't intend for anyone else to have me," she told him.

"But it drives me crazy to think about it. If someone ever tried to touch you, I would—I know that I would hurt them."

The menace of his tone alarmed Yuknio. She sat up and looked down at him. There was a severity to his features that she did not recognize. "You shouldn't be so insecure, Arima." Her clammy hand found his, and encircled it. "You already have me."

He clutched her hand with more intensity. "I'm still afraid of losing control."

Yukino slowly leaned down so her lips nearly touched his. "The only way to overcome your fear is to challenge it." She paused for a second as a definite plan surfaced "Let's find out."

Souichiro struggled to push upward onto his elbows. "Find out?"

She nodded nervously.

"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"Whatever is bottled up inside of you, Arima—let it all out. Just let it go. Let's see what happens. You'll never know unless you try, right?"

He glared at her. "That's crazy! What are you saying?"

Yukino bent over once more, her hands placed firmly on his shoulders. She whispered the words again into his mouth. "Show me."

Souichiro accepted the kiss dispassionately at first. Was she trying to provoke him? Miyazawa hardly ever initiated physical advances. When she did, he usually found it necessary to bring it to a halt. He couldn't allow himself to get too excited. And now she was asking him to lose control?

As soon as her tongue slid languidly into his mouth, Souichiro felt his panic dissolve. His hands reached around her until they slipped under the back of her shirt to caress her damp skin. He was reminded of everything he loved about this girl. The scent of her body, the slight touch of her hair on the tip of his nose, the taste of her mouth. They took possession of him the moment he came in contact with her.

He was shocked when she whispered. "Stop controlling it. Just let yourself go."

Souichiro felt the pit of his stomach knot feverishly. A flush formed on the crest of his cheeks and his blood boiled while her words echoed inside of him. When had her voice ever sounded that seductive?

He moaned as his mouth slipped from her lips to her neck, his tongue gliding over the tender skin. His hands were all over her, and the shallow exhales that she made triggered an even more concentrated desire to have her for himself. She wanted him to lose control? Was that it? Yukino had uttered those words to him. What would allowing that kind of passion to materialize do to him? More importantly, what would it do to her? Still, he wanted…

Yukino drew in a heavy breath of air when she felt Souichiro's teeth sink into her shoulder. It did not hurt exactly, but the rough quality of the action caused her body to tremble. She opened her eyes to gaze up at him and noticed a far away look that she could not reach. "Ari—"

With abruptness, she felt his hands travel totally beneath her shirt as it was snatched from her body. Yukino did not have time to blush as she normally did when he first beheld her bare skin, nor did Souichiro take the time to gaze. Instead, his mouth fell upon the small of her stomach, his fingers making effectual gestures over the belt of her skirt. She was shocked when it came off with more ease than it had ever before.

Look at him! She yelled at herself. Find him; reach him. Help him! Stop lying there like a scared child. Yukino placed her hands carefully around his face and slowly brought him down for a tender kiss. "Arima," she whispered lovingly.

She felt his knees move between her legs, and her thighs froze instinctively. With more vigor, he forced them apart further so that she cried out. "Ari—" He silenced her with another kiss that crashed their lips together in something that no longer resembled the gentle union they normally shared. But when she forced her eyes to look at him, she was terrified.

Arima had…changed. Everything from the normally sleek muscles that now bulged on the exterior of his sweating skin to the sound of his ragged breathing. He can really hurt me if he wants to, she realized for the first time. I'm so vulnerable. The thought floated on the surface of her fears, sapping the strength from her limbs. But worst of all was the cold expression that had seized the soft contours of his face. Never before had she considered Souichiro to be dangerous. But this person—this person…she did not know him.

His body was intruding. It scared her. She did not want it. "Stop!" she screamed.

Souichiro heard her crying as he continued, but there was another sound that was even more deafening. His own. 'Give her what she wants. She asked for it.' It whispered callously. 'Show her how ugly you truly are.'

Yukino forced her arms between them with all of her might, only to feel Souichiro hold them violently above her head. An urgent sob escaped her mouth, and she cringed as she detected his breath on her ear. NO! NO! She shouted silently. What have I done?

I want her, Souichiro's thoughts stirred in a one track mentality. I want every part of her body to be mine. Even the blood coursing in her veins; I want to become one with her until it aches. 'She deserves this,' the voice told him.

His head dipped down toward her earlobe and brushed the side of her face. It was wet. Tears? Was she crying? Had he hurt her? He pulled back hastily, and as he did, he watched her scoot away in a panic. She could not look at him, but her arms slipped protectively around her nearly naked body. She sobbed when her back came to rest at the edge of his bed.

The dull voice still lingered. 'She deserved it.' No! Souichiro's paranoia howled inside of himself. What had he done? He had taken advantage of Miyazawa. He had willingly forced himself on her while she was clearly telling him 'no.' I am a disgusting pig, he thought as he caved into a series of sobs that were similar to those of the girl he had betrayed.

Yukino wiped the back of her hand across her eyes and looked carefully at him. He was crying. She had never known him to sound so hysterical before. Never so ruffled and oppressed by his emotions. With uneasiness, she concluded that this was the moment, her true test of sorts. She had witnessed, first hand, the side of himself that he had intended to keep from her forever. But, even more shocking was the possibility that this might only be some of the darkness that pulsed within him. What should I do? She wondered.

I love him. The idea throbbed inside of her heart as she instinctively rushed to his side and wrapped her arms around his head, cradling his body with her own. "Arima," she whispered softly.

"Don't," he told her, attempting to pull away. But Yukino held on tightly, brushing the dark hair from his forehead gently. "I'm—I'm sorry," he said after awhile.

She nodded, although he could not see. "Is that what you really want from me?" she asked hesitantly.

Silence. And then, "I—don't know."

Her heart slumped at his confession, but it only made her stubbornness swell even more. "It's OK," she told him with a positive manner. "Next time—next time, we can—"

"What are you talking about, Miyazawa?" He glared at her. "I can't ever touch you again. Not after—not after doing that."

"Tell me what you felt." Yukino urged, wanting to understand.

"Like I wanted to own you, not—not love you." He said after awhile.

"And why is that, do you think?" She cleared her throat. "If there is some driving fear that compels you to want something like that, then why do you let it? I told you that I am yours to love. But I will never be yours to take, Arima."

"It's like another voice—telling me to do these things." He jumped at the pressure of her fingers on his chin guiding him to look at her again.

"Tell it to shut up," she smiled weakly.

In the trembling of her voice he heard something else—something serene. Why is she so calm? He wondered. "Did I hurt you?"

"A little." She admitted. "But you hurt me more by giving me that letter."

Souichiro was astonished. The letter had upset her more? But surely after him actively forcing himself on her like that, she would detest him enough to feel relief at breaking up. "Huh?"

Yukino stood then, gathering her clothes and resuming her typical, confident air. When she had dressed, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her skirt and peered down at him. "You are strong, Arima. I know you are. We can take this one day at a time." She chanced a timid smile. "I have to admit that what happened—it scared me a little bit. Well—a lot. But…what kind of a girlfriend would I be to run when the man she loves needs support? Better yet, what kind of a person would I be?" She slipped on her shoes as she spoke. "I don't understand what it is that haunts you, Arima. Maybe I never will. But I do know that in time, you will become a strong and capable person who can rid himself of his ghosts." She looked down at him with conviction. "I truly believe that. And in the meantime…you can depend on me."

Souichiro stared at her, dumbfounded. "O—okay," was all he could manage.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other then," she laughed. Slowly, she pulled her hands out of her pockets, producing a folded piece of paper. "Here ya go. I don't think I was quite as successful as you strived to be at eloquence," she declared as she tossed it. "At least this time."

He caught it quickly, and with it, her arrogant afterthought.

"I'll let myself out," she informed him with a wave of her hand as she moved toward the door. "See you tomorrow at school."

In the hallway leading to the stairs, she put her hand to her heart in an attempt to calm it's excessive beating. Am I really doing what's right? She asked herself. Yukino knew that she loved him. It was the only thing she was certain of. But loving a person so destructive to himself…and possibly to her. Was it safe? Was she prepared to handle the danger that might be involved? After all, she wasn't a doctor. She didn't know how to help him other than by being there as much as was required. Love was tangible…but also perfectly breakable. She never would have believed it when she initially fell in love.

Yukino was suddenly reminded of the moment she first reached out and seized his hand during their class committee meeting in freshman year. She had been so terrified at the time, a simple gesture—but it had scared her to death. By doing it, she would have breached the margin of independence she had striven to maintain nearly her whole life. But when she felt his warm palm against her own, his thumb rotating securely to accept and seal the act of her love, her heart had relaxed. For the first time in nearly ten years, Yukino was in need of someone else, and that knowledge generated contentment.

She made up her mind at that moment. As long as I love him, I refuse to give up. "I won't allow you to give up either," she alleged fiercely as she stepped out into the chilling night air.

-

Souichiro stared with bewilderment into the empty doorway that Yukino had disappeared through. He remained in that trance long after he heard the front door shut.

It was awhile before he remembered the paper in his hand. Souichiro sat back comfortably to unfold it, though it was still quite wet. When he managed to pry the clinging layers apart, he found it to be a running mess of ink. He also noticed the angry, red dye of Yukino's marker outlining several parts of what appeared to be the original letter he had written. Besides grammatical corrections, he spotted a couple of not so elegant words that revealed how she felt about him at the time.

Souichiro snickered in disbelief. That was his Miyazawa. Never letting down her competitive guard even for a second. He slid onto his back again and raised the sodden material up to the visage of the crimson moon. The color shone through, illuminating the paper. Black ink subdued by red, the contrasting shades blended until they consumed the page in a murky brown. Studying it with an abstract eye, he mentally compared it to their love. "A tempestuous storm of emotions," he said aloud...his and hers.


A/N: And that's a rap! What did you think? Come on—lay into me. I was too soft. I know. But I really wanted to show Yukino struggling with her decision. She loves him—sixteen year old girls think love can conquer all. (shrugs) Hmmm….or maybe she just enjoyed that side of Arima a little more than she cared to admit. MUAUAUAUAUAUAUA!

Should there be an alternate ending?

Again, thank you sooooooooooooooo much for all of the thoughtful reviews! This was only three parts, but it's always sad when it comes to an end. (waves her kleenex) Take care guys!

Ciao,

LinBean