"And I Saw My Reflection" a Fruits Basket fanfic by Ysabet MacFarlane (ba087@chebucto.ns.ca) Original release date: October 14, 2005 Contains spoilers for Furuba chapters 103-106, as well as harsh language and largely-psychological violence. This is the backstory I imagined for my Haru/Rin fic "Alive Through the Dawn", but neither depends on the other. ******* Akito waited until Kureno was sound asleep before edging out of bed and bundling herself against the early spring cold. Outside, she stopped to watch her breath mist in the air, trying to distract herself from her responsibility. The chill rapidly began to make its way under her clothes, and she grimaced and made her way to the back of the family compound. She passed no one who mattered; a servant saw her and hastily scurried out of her way, eyes averted. Almost three months had passed since she had last stood outside the Cat's traditional room. From the outside it looked unused, as untouched by human hands as its occupant. Akito snarled under her breath at the necessity of being there, of going inside and dealing with her Horse. *Isuzu.* She looked through the window, arching up on her toes to see inside. Her breath fogged the glass, but not enough to hide the small body curled on the room's pallet. Through the bond she felt the ghost of the cold in the younger girl's bones: cold that had become familiar enough to be slept through. Black hair spilled across the pillow like dried blood; unruly, shining filth that made Akito's eyes narrow. She bit her lip, captivated by the unbearable mental image of that hair on Hatsuharu's bed, tangled in his fingers, while he--no, while Isuzu made him, with her whore's hair and her clothes clinging to every inch of skin they pretended to cover--while she used her body to try to pull him away from Akito, to make him forget the bond in a useless moment of pleasure. Rage surged up, as hot as if the betrayal were new. "How _dare_ you?" Akito hissed, forgetting the wall and window between them. Inside, Isuzu stirred as if she could hear her god's voice despite the barriers, and Akito pressed her hand against the wall. Not having to look at Isuzu's hated face for over two months had changed nothing. She shoved herself away from the wall and went inside, leaving the door open behind her. Either the abrupt gust of cold or her presence woke Isuzu immediately. She twisted upright on the pallet, dark eyes meeting Akito's before she looked away. A single moment of eye contact was too much for Akito. Frustration coiled at the base of her skull, begging for an outlet. She had had Kureno make love to her before he fell asleep, trying to relax, but the need for quiet and secrecy in his arms had done nothing to ease the scream of fury that swarmed in her throat. "You know why I'm here, don't you?" Isuzu sat frozen, staring at a point on the floor between them, and Akito's hands clenched into the fabric of her kimono. "Answer me." Black tendrils of hair spilled forward and obscured Isuzu's face when she shook her head silently. Akito gritted her teeth and closed the distance between them, grabbing Isuzu's chin and forcing her head up. "I'm told you've stopped eating." She let go and stared at her Horse, at the new gauntness in a face that had already been thin. "I go to the trouble of having food sent for you, and you _ignore_ it?" She cut herself off and looked around the moonlit room. A table held candles and matches, and a pair of scissors for trimming the wicks. A small chest sat by the door. Otherwise the room was empty, save for the pallet and the girl pressed against the wall. "What do you imagine you'll accomplish?" No answer came, only a slight quickening of ragged breathing. Akito stared out the window, unable to bear the sight of her. Looking at Isuzu brought unwanted mental images: Hatsuharu's ringed fingers trailing through that hair, his mouth on pale skin, his eyes glazing with pleasure. Memories tangled up with her imaginings; Haru had moved differently, smiled differently, for the month or two before Akito had realized what was going on. Even without knowing the cause, she had found herself watching him. And after . . . After. After the blood and the fleeting satisfaction, the need to touch him. The bond between them ached, made her caress him in ways that she never had before. A man's body beginning to take shape out of adolescent awkwardness suddenly fascinated her. The lack of innocence in his eyes wrenched at her heart; the guarded hint of understanding behind the blankness of his gaze when she touched him made her imagine Isuzu's lips on him, made her keep touching him to erase his memory of Isuzu's hands. She began to wonder if he suspected her body's secrets, if her touch gave her away as it comforted her. If he took anything from it. But his eyes stayed empty, as smooth as his skin under her fingertips. Isuzu's wall of silence was as perfect as Haru's stillness. Akito rounded on her, unable to bear it. The silence made her imagine Isuzu's voice, gloating over her theft of Haru's love. "Why aren't you eating?" she demanded, to break it. Their eyes met again, and the fury broke loose. "WHY?" The world blurred into the disjointedness of her rage: Isuzu's face between her hands, her own nails gouging into skin, her own voice edging dangerously high. Isuzu was shaking, trying to twist away, and the answer crystallized in Akito's mind. "You--" She let go, suddenly unable to catch a breath. "You want to--" *Die.* "You want to leave me." The horror of the betrayal sent her reeling, more disorienting than the ghost of Haru's hands on the trembling body in front of her. "You--you want to--how can you, HOW . . ?" She reached out again, needing the contact that made her sick with hatred. "You promised." Isuzu's skin was frigid. "You _promised_, you PROMISED, you said you'd be with me--" Sobs shook the emaciated shoulders under her hands, but there was still no sound. "Say something!" "Akito . . . " The barest whisper, mixed with fear. The sound of her own name held no comfort. Akito felt her fingers dig in, trying to elicit more response, and Isuzu flinched weakly. "Did you make noise for _him_?" she spat. A vicious, bone-deep need to know took hold of her. "Did you scream for him?" Another shake, as hard as she could manage, and black hair snapped across her hands, sending a surge of nausea through her. "Did you moan for him when you fucked him, tell him how _good_ he felt?" Isuzu's eyes widened in the moonlight, her lips shaping a silent denial, and Akito dropped her as if burned. The blood bond whispered to her in the way it occasionally did, glimpses of her Jyuunishi's secrets, and she _knew_ that the girl crumpling to the floor had scarcely dared to make any sound of pleasure in Hatsuharu's arms, not even when his touch had sent unbearable heat and tension through her. It reminded Akito too sharply of night upon night with Kureno, lying silent in his arms, not daring to lose control of her carefully-modulated voice. The familiar secrecy made her step back from the dark eyes staring blindly up at her. "You promised me," she breathed, unable to look away from those eyes. "You promised, and all you do is take from me. But he loves me." The cold wind pouring in from the door blew Isuzu's hair across her face in wisps. "It doesn't matter how you dress for him, or how often you spread your legs for him, he _loves me_." Icy cold shot up her arm; her hand ached where it was clenched around the scissors that had been on the table. "He's mine." Her fingers buried themselves in the hated hair without direction. Akito imagined the scissors in her hand drawing blood, shredding the beautiful face that had tempted Hatsuharu away from her. *The bond is in the blood,* she whispered to herself. She thought of the bond running out onto the floor, tangible in her hands. "I don't want you." The hand in Isuzu's hair tightened, clawing at her scalp, pulling the strands taut. Metal flashed in the moonlight. "I don't want you." A lock of cut hair slid loose and drifted to the floor. "I don't want you. You can be replaced." Another click of the scissors, and a thin scratch along the side of Isuzu's neck began to seep blood as more hair fell. "But you're mine until you die." The words poured out of Akito's mouth without thought. "Mine." Isuzu's eyes were blank, no longer looking up at her. The lack of response infuriated Akito further. "And I will NOT--" the scissors cut more hair away "--have anything of MINE--" another satisfying clack "--looking like a _whore_, do you hear me?" She slid her hand down the last length of hair and cut with a satisfaction that bordered on peace. Isuzu jerked under her hands at the last words, her mouth finally shaping sounds that Akito didn't bother to pay attention to. The tears that started to flow conjured a faint smile. "Die if you can," she said, vaguely surprised by the gentleness in her own voice. She ran her finger along the dark line of the scratch, feeling the warm dampness of their bond. "The usual servant will bring your breakfast in the morning." It wasn't until she'd stepped out of the room and closed the door that Akito realized the scissors were still clutched tightly in her hand. ******* Fruits Basket is the creation of Takaya Natsuki, and is licensed in North America by FUNimation (anime) and Tokyopop (manga). Used without permission or the intention of making a profit. Please support the original work! "And I Saw My Reflection" © 2005 by Ysabet MacFarlane (ba087@chebucto.ns.ca). Comments and criticism welcomed at the above address. This story may be reproduced and archived so long as the original text is preserved and the author's name and contact information remain attached. Notifying the author of any such use is an appreciated courtesy. NO CHANGES OF ANY KIND ARE PERMITTED.