*****
"Alive Through the Dawn"
a Fruits Basket fanfic by Ysabet MacFarlane (ba087@chebucto.ns.ca)

Part Two (a) of Two

Please note that this file is the first HALF of part two, broken for the
convenience of readers who dislike reading large stories in one sitting.
******


******
"tears on the sleeve of a man
don't want to be a boy today"
	--Tori Amos, "Pretty Good Year" (Under the Pink)
******

The rain was just starting to come down in earnest by the time Haru got back to
Kazuma's house; he would have missed the initial downpour, but he had to loiter
at school until the other Sohmas were gone--no small task with Momiji hovering
anxiously, obviously willing to wait for him.  The sky was dark gray and yawning
overhead by the time he finally made it out, small drops of rain darkening his
uniform as he hurried down the road.

He was nearly soaked to the skin when he arrived, the cold stiffening his
muscles under their layers of bruises.  A quick swipe through his hair sent
water showering the front step as he slid the front door open and stepped into
the entryway.  The tension in the air hit him like a wall before he could even
open his mouth for the ritual announcement of his return, and he kicked his
shoes off and headed into the hallway without any further attempt at not
bringing water in with him.

The silhouette in the doorway was instantly familiar, ripping through the
careful ways he kept his temper in check before he could put a name to it.  A
woman backlit in a doorway, the lines of her body and her scent painfully
similar to Rin's.  He was almost blind with fury by the time his hand was on her
shoulder, spinning her around with no care for whether her limbs or head slammed
into the door frame.  He felt a sick surge of disappointment when there was no
resounding crack of flesh against wood.

"I did advise you to leave before Hatsuharu got back," Kazuma said from a few
feet away, as calm as if Haru were offering his guest tea.

Rin's mother jerked her gaze away from Haru's seething rage.  "You have no right
to keep me from her."  She was rigid against the wall, and even the scent of her
fear was familiar, unbearably similar to the sweat born from terror and pain
that Haru had tasted on her daughter's skin more times than he could count. 
Nausea tore through his guts, and he gouged his fingers deep into her skin,
trying not to throw up.

"How long has she been here, Shihan?"  He grated the words out through sheer
force of will.  "Has she seen Rin?"

"She arrived about twenty minutes ago--" Kazuma began.

"HAS SHE SEEN RIN?"

"You have no right--" Rin's mother said again, and Haru shook her, shoving her
toward the door.

"YOU have no rights to her at all."  She started to turn back, and he moved
closer, blocking her way.  "You threw her away like she was _nothing_, and I'll
break your fucking neck before I let you touch her."  His voice was starting to
spiral into a scream, abused vocal chords burning in his throat.  *Rin can hear
me.*  He swallowed the next words, spitting them at her under his breath.  "Get
the fuck out.  You're not seeing her."

"What kind of a daughter wouldn't want to see her mother?"  She was trying to
glare back at him, but her face was corpse-white with fear.

"She might want to see you," he whispered.  "But there's nothing you can do that
won't hurt her.  It doesn't matter anymore.  If you hit her she'll think she
deserves it.  If you hug her she'll wonder what changed, if you love her again,
how long it'll be before you stop.  She didn't get sick because you beat her,
she got sick because you always had her wondering and scared and trying to fix
things so you'd just love her again."

"You're insane," she said.

"Has anyone ever hit you?  Like you hit her?"

"I've _never_ hit Isuzu--"

"Then you let her dad do it.  It's still your fault.  D'you know what it feels
like?"

"You're--"

"Doesn't matter if I'm crazy."  Kazuma was still watching from the doorway,
making no move to stop him.  "Do you have ANY idea?"  Her head shook minutely,
dark eyes--so exactly like Rin's eyes--staring up at him.  Haru's hand clenched
into a painful fist and he lashed out, aiming low, imagining the crunch of
shattering bone under his hand with a queasy anticipation that was like nothing
he'd ever felt.  Hated, almost-beloved eyes widened with pure terror, and his
stomach rebelled as his fist struck flesh--the familiar feel of Kazuma's hand
blocking the blow.

"Shihan--"

"You pulled the punch," Kazuma said gently, stepping between them.  "Good. 
You'll be glad of it later."  Haru flinched and stumbled away, trying to choke
back the bile in his mouth.  Kazuma nodded and turned back to Rin's mother. 
"You will leave my house now."  The steadiness of his teacher's voice rang in
Haru's ears as he bolted into the depths of the house, barely making it to the
toilet room before he vomited, acid pain that did nothing to relieve the
pressure in his head.

Rin was hovering uncertainly in the doorway when he sat back on his heels and
swiped the back of his hand across his mouth.  "There's tea."  For a moment he
was disoriented by her appearance, unused to seeing her in traditional clothes.

It took real effort to balance and push himself to his feet, with the floor
spinning under him.  "Did you want to see her?"

Her arm slipped around his waist, so light that it barely registered against
bruised flesh, and he followed her to the sink.  "Yes."  Something horrible and
empty in the single word, an echo from yet another part of herself she'd all but
murdered to survive.  Water spattered into the sink and he washed his hands
mechanically, rinsed his mouth to clear away the taste of frustration.

"Rin."  Numb lips barely managed to shape her name, and he leaned against the
wall, staring into her eyes and trying to reconcile all the broken pieces of
herself she'd poured into his hands.  Unwanted child.  Would-be whore.  Beloved,
fragile girl, so close to slipping through his fingers.

"Come on," she said softly, taking his hand and leading him toward the comfort
of the kotatsu.

Kazuma was waiting for them.  He waved Rin away when she reached for the teapot,
and carefully poured steaming cups for both of them.  Haru wrapped his hands
around the ceramic, flexing his fingers against the heat; across the table, Rin
was doing the same.  "Should we have let her see you, child?"

*Child.*  The gentle endearment brought Haru back into full attentiveness, and
he watched a spill of emotions make their way across Rin's face.  She shook her
head uncertainly, and Haru marveled at the unguarded moment, trying to imagine
how different she might have been if Kazuma had made another choice and raised
her beside Kyo.

"No," she said, setting her cup down.  The clink of it touching the table almost
hid the quiver in her voice.  "It's better this way."  She rested her head in
her hands and gazed out the window.  Darkness was falling fast; the lights in
the room reflected back from streaks of rain on the glass.  "It's really coming
down."

"Until tomorrow night," Kazuma said.  "Not the best weather for traveling."

"Traveling?" Haru asked.

"Ah--that's right, I was telling Isuzu earlier, before we were interrupted.  I'd
almost forgotten that there's a conference this weekend I should attend. 
Kunimitsu reminded me this morning.  We're supposed to leave tonight and return
the day after tomorrow, but he's offered to stay with the two of you.  He's gone
home to pack his things, but he said we should call if you want him."

"We'll be all right," Rin replied, still looking outside.  "Or did you want him
to stay to keep up appearances?"

"Have you suddenly developed a concern for propriety, Isuzu?"

A faint smile twisted her mouth.  "I don't care what the family thinks of me, or
what anyone else thinks of the family."  She shrugged and faced them again as
she held her cup close to her face and inhaled the steam.  "No one's likely to
notice, anyway."

"Hatsuharu?"

Haru shook his head.  "She's right.  We'll be fine."  His hand shook as he
sipped his tea, but Kazuma made no comment.

"If that's settled, I'm going down to the dojo to take care of some things
there.  I'll leave it locked when I'm done.  Isuzu, do you remember where the
spare keys are in case anyone needs to get in while I'm away?"  Rin nodded, and
Kazuma touched her shoulder lightly as he moved toward the back door. 
"Hatsuharu.  You understand that I couldn't allow you to hurt our guest
earlier?"

The mouthful of tea stung going down, as his throat tensed.  "Shihan, I'm sor--"

"I don't want insincere apologies."

"Yes, Shihan."  A belated thought struck him.  "How did she know Rin was here? 
Why would she come . . ."

"After so long?"  Kazuma peered thoughtfully out the window.  "She wasn't very
forthcoming about the source of her information.  As for her motivations . . . "
 He glanced back at them, a rare hint of anger tightening his lips.  "Why,
indeed, after so many years without a word?"  Rin avoided his eyes.  "Rest easy,
Isuzu.  I may ask you for details of what happened at some point, but not now. 
Whatever's happened, you're safe here."  She nodded unsteadily, and his gaze
turned to Haru.  "Your self-control has improved."  Haru's head jerked up in
surprise.  "Only a few years ago I would have had to pull you away much sooner."
 Kazuma turned away and disappeared outside without waiting for a response.

"I'm glad you didn't hurt her," Rin murmured when he was gone, and Haru nodded. 
She reached across the table and ran her thumb over his knuckles, tracing the
lines of his half-clenched fist.

"I'm not."  He watched the words hit her, the small shudder that wracked her
shoulders and made him want to rub the tension out again.  "I'm no better than
them, I--"

"Do you remember the last time my mother spoke to me?" she asked abruptly.

A fresh jolt of anger ran through him, hot and familiar.  "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you did?"

"Nothing," he whispered.  Rin blinked, and a look crossed her face that he
hadn't seen in a long time: bemused affection at the differences in the ways
they thought.  "Don't look at me like that."  He heard the yearning in his own
voice, turned away from the tenderness in her eyes.

"I think you were nine," she said.  "You must've just turned nine.  I was
eleven, and I remember not missing too much school, because everything fell
apart right before summer break."

"What difference does--"

"You yelled at Mama until she left," Rin said quietly.  "That's a big thing for
a little kid.  And you didn't calm down until Kazuma-san asked us if we wanted
you to stay with me overnight.  I guess the doctor was so freaked out by what
Mama had done that he agreed--even with all the paperwork, he didn't like it. 
Do you remember?"

"Yeah," Haru replied, the memory sharpening as she spoke.  It took shape piece
by piece.  Rin had always been the one to remember details, but from her he'd
learned to remember the things that struck her as important.  The long-ago night
when she had slept at the hospital for the first time came clear: skeptical
nurses bringing a small cot into the room so someone--he--could sleep near her. 
The few adults who cared what happened to her had been elsewhere, probably
discussing her future.

"They gave me painkillers or something, so I fell asleep," Rin said.  Haru
nodded.  She had curled into a tiny ball that took up hardly any of her hospital
bed, and he had lain awake for a long time, listening to the unfamiliar noises
of the hospital.  So he heard the sounds from the other side of the room--the
soft whimper of misery, and then the rustling of fabric as she pushed her face
into the pillow to keep quiet.

"You had a bad dream, and I . . . "

"You remember?"

He remembered climbing out of the bed they'd given him, and padding across the
cold floor to clamber up beside her.  He'd sat shivering, patting her shoulder
awkwardly, until she curled up against him, her damp face pressed against his
side.  *Don't leave me alone.*  So they'd fallen asleep together on the small
bed, clutching each other as much to keep from falling off as for comfort.  His
first memory of her body, like a harbinger of things to come--bandages and
bruises and an IV needle buried in her arm.

"There's nothing clumsier than a Jyuunishi kid trying to hug, is there?" Haru
asked, and Rin's eyes lightened for a moment, with a silent laugh.

"I was so glad you stayed," she said, leaning forward to rest her head on the
table.  "It was just the one night, and I was so lonely while I was there, but
it made everything else easier."  Her fingers rubbed idly against his.  "I'm
glad you're here now."

"I love you," he breathed, and she glanced up with a look that loosened the knot
of tension in his stomach.  Behind her, the door slid open as Kazuma returned,
wringing rainwater out of his kimono.

"I think I'll abandon the idea of walking to the train station."  He paused on
the threshold and attempted to look stern.  "Remember to eat while we're gone. 
Hatsuharu, are you going to school again tomorrow?"

"I--"  Haru blinked, not having thought that far ahead.  "Rin might need me."

"She may.  I must admit that I would prefer it if she weren't left alone."

Rin opened her mouth as if to protest, but subsided.  Kazuma nodded, a hint of a
smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.  "Learning to pick your battles is an
excellent plan, Isuzu."

"What time is your train?"

"Seven thirty, I believe.  Kunimitsu has the tickets.  And now I'll do my part
and go pack before he returns and feels the need to do it for me."

*****

Kunimitsu appeared within half an hour, drenched and anxious about their
schedule.  He was obviously relieved that Kazuma was ready to go, and just as
obviously distressed about leaving Rin and Haru alone in the house.  To his
credit, the worry was mostly due to genuine concern for Rin, rather than the
household's reputation; he refused to leave until he had heated some soup and
watched them eat it.  When they finally left, Kazuma had to take his anxious
assistant by the arm and escort him out to the waiting taxi.

As the door closed behind them, Rin rubbed her eyes wearily.  "I swear he thinks
I can't walk or feed myself."

"_I'm_ not sure you'll feed yourself," Haru pointed out.

"That's not the point."  She flushed and feigned interest in the ceiling.  "I
should dust the house tomorrow.  Kunimitsu's been cooking and fussing so much
that I don't think the place has been cleaned since I got here."

"You are _not_ doing chores yet," Haru said.

"You've been doing things outside--"

"And I'm not sick."

"Not for lack of trying," she muttered, walking to the window and pressing her
nose against it.  Haru watched her reflection, blurred by the mist from her
breath and the  rivulets of water streaming down the glass.  Only an occasional
glimpse of moonlight from the horizon pierced the tree line and the stormy
blackness outside.

*What do you see out there, love?*

"It's like the world's gone," she said, as if she'd heard.  "Do you think it'll
flood tonight?"

"Shouldn't be a problem no matter how much it rains," Haru replied.  "The
gardens are all on the slope, and the dojo's above ground level."

"Can we go see the cherry blossoms this year?  If they survive?"

"Definitely."  He smiled at the hopefulness in her voice.  "You're already
dressed for it."

She glanced down at herself as if she'd forgotten what she was wearing, and
smoothed the sleeve.  "This kimono's too plain.  I'll have to find something
else."  She stared back out at the rain.  "It's been years since I wore one for
anything but New Year's.  Not since I was a kid."

"We'll have to make sure you get something beautiful," Haru said, but she was
pressing her forehead against the glass and he wondered if she'd heard.

"I need to go outside," she said abruptly, turning away from the window.  "The
rain doesn't look too bad."

Haru tried to get a clear view through the water-distorted pane.  The rain
looked absolutely torrential to him.  "Will you be warm enough?"

"I have to go out," Rin repeated, and started toward the garden door.  Haru
followed, opting not to protest further.  The look in her eyes said she wasn't
in the mood for argument.

The rain was obviously coming down in sheets when she opened the door, but she
went out without hesitation, stepping out of her slippers and walking barefoot
into the wet grass.  The wind caught the loose locks of her hair as soon as she
was out of the house's protection, whipping them around her head.  Moonlight was
occasionally visible through the racing clouds, and she stared up at them as if
she had never seen the sky before.  Haru stood beside her and watched the
shadows and light play across her face; they lightened her hair and hid her eyes
in an eerie, reflective darkness.

Watching her expression, he didn't notice that she was loosening her kimono
until it slid off her shoulders and her eyes squeezed shut against the sudden
cold of the wind and rain hitting her bare skin.

"Rin--"

"I need the air," she said.  "Don't look if you don't want to."

Haru laughed in spite of himself.  "You think I don't want to look?"  Her eyes
flashed open, and he reached out to touch her shoulder.  "I just don't want you
to freeze."

A faint smile touched her mouth.  "Too late."  She hesitated a moment, and the
clouds' shadows hid her eyes completely.  "Warm me up?"

"Now?" he asked, responding to the implicit invitation.

Her fingers wound into the fabric of the kimono, where she was holding it around
her waist.  "Are you ready now?"

"You mean, will I regret it?"  She nodded, and he slid his hand around to the
nape of her neck, leaning close to her ear.  "You remember you said you needed
me to understand about you?"  She nodded again.  "I don't.  Not yet.  But I need
you to understand some things too."

"Like what?"

"Like . . . I love _you_."  She blinked up at him, and he kissed her temple
lightly, reaching for words that were determined to elude him.  "I need you to
understand that your body's not what I'm in love with."

She frowned at him.  "I know that."

"I used to think that wanting to touch you and be with you all the time was how
I could show you I loved you.  Only it didn't work--I was half-addicted to you,
and that got you hurt."  He wrapped his arms around her, letting her shivers run
into his body.  The rain had saturated their hair; the top of her head was
soaking wet when he pressed his cheek against it.  "I don't want that to happen
again."

"I know," she whispered.  "I'm not scared of it, though.  I always believed you
loved me."

"Even when I was a selfish kid?"

"Even then."  She clasped her hands behind his neck and leaned back.  "It's your
decision, Haru."

"You're sure you're ready?"

She met his eyes steadily and nodded.  "When you are."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I know."  Her arms tightened around him when he pulled her close again; the
sound she made as she snuggled into him would have been enough to arouse him on
its own.  He closed his eyes and held her, breathing in her scent as he ran his
hands firmly over her back, trying to smooth the rain and the goosebumps away. 
She tensed when he touched her scar, and immediately tried to relax again.

"It's part of you," he murmured.  He leaned down and brushed a kiss against her
shoulder, grazing her lightly with his teeth.  "You don't hide it.  And any part
of you that everyone else gets to look at, I get to touch."

She took a slow, shuddering breath, and nodded.

"Do you want to go inside yet?" he asked.

"In a minute."  She let go of the kimono entirely, worked her hands up under his
shirt.  "Take this off."

"Ok."  Haru released her long enough to peel the shirt off, dropping it on the
ground as he hugged her.  He gasped involuntarily at the combined sensations of
the rain and her naked body pressed against his half-clothed one.

"Better," she whispered, and kissed him.  Her lips were cold from the evening
chill, contrasting with the warmth inside her mouth and the hungry way she
tasted him.  Pressed so close together, the shivers that wracked her were
impossible to ignore, even with the distraction of her hands on his waist.  He
broke the kiss and held her head against his shoulder, closing his eyes and
trying to force his breathing back under control.  "Are you ok?" she whispered,
tracing the lines of his tattoo with one finger, as if unable to hold herself
still.

"Are _you_?" he replied.  Silence.  Her finger kept moving, the edge of her nail
scraping his skin.  "Rin, come on.  Talk to me."  He ran his free hand over her
back, trying to give her a little warmth.  "We should go inside."  She tensed
against him, and he kissed the top of her head.  "I'm not changing my mind.  But
it's too cold out here."  He bent and pressed his lips against her ear.  "When
it's summer and you're stronger, if you want to do this outside, I'd love to. 
Sounds fun.  But not now.  The only thing I want to worry about is how to make
you feel good."  He bent further and kissed her neck as she shivered.  "I want
you warm and comfortable and too distracted to remember your own name, lovely
girl.  Inside, on your own bed."

"I just want myself back."  The soft words were almost unintelligible.  "I don't
want to be for sale."

Haru rested his cheek on her forehead.  "Freezing to death out here isn't going
to prove anything."

She pushed away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.  "I'm not trying to
'prove'--"

"Not even to yourself?"  He reached out and stroked her shoulder, unable to keep
from running his eyes over her body.  Her desperate thinness and the awkward way
she held herself against the cold had little effect on the way he responded to
her.  "Rin, are you sure you want to do this?"

"I need to," she said.

"Why?"  He closed his hand on her arm, giving her an opening to come back into
his embrace, and she took it.

"Haru, if you don't want to--"  He interrupted that train of thought by kissing
her, not trying to be gentle about it as he held her close, making sure she
could feel him wanting her.  Her head fell back, offering no resistance to the
way he explored her mouth.  "Was that a silly thing to say?" she murmured when
he'd stopped, and his grip on her relaxed again.

"Kind of, yeah."  He kissed her temple, and the wind brushed loose strands of
her hair against his face.

"I don't want to think," she said, her lips moving against his collarbone while
she spoke.  "I haven't done anything but think and dream for months, Haru.  I
want to feel like myself again.  Alive.  I don't want my body to be just
something to be used anymore."  She touched her hair, clenching her fingers into
it.  "I don't want anyone to touch me but you."  An edge of hysteria lurked in
her voice, and Haru let go of her long enough to retrieve the wet kimono from
the grass and wrap it around her shoulders.

"Shhh.  No one's going to if you don't want them to."

"It always hurts when people touch me," she whispered.  "Mama and Daddy.  Akito.
 And then when I went to Gure-nii, I . . .  I told myself that was all there
was.  Because I'd never be with you again."

"Did you really expect him to take you up on it?"

Rin shrugged helplessly in his arms.  "I didn't know.  I thought he had to know
_something_, and he always makes jokes about girls, and I'm pretty enough . . .
"

"And you expected him to hurt you?"

"I didn't know," she repeated, burying her face between his chest and arm, as if
she could hide there.  His skin and the dull sound of the rain muffled her
voice.  "I didn't know, I didn't _know_, and then when he was gone I felt so
filthy.  Like when men stare at me on the street, only I did it to myself."  She
inhaled slowly, and Haru waited for her to regain control of herself.  "I did
it.  It doesn't matter that he didn't touch me."

He hugged her tightly, until her spine cracked in protest.  "You're _not_
filthy.  It doesn't matter what Akito's voice whispers to you in the dark."  He
gripped her hand and lifted it, closing his mouth over her wrist so her pulse
beat against his tongue.  Rin made a low, wordless sound in response, and he
sucked at her skin until she pulled her hand away.  "You taste clean to me," he
said simply.  "Do you want to go inside now?"

"Yes," she said, and took his hand in both of hers, holding it tightly against
her chest while they went into the house and down the hall to her room.


*****
and how I kissed you then
and you kissed me 
shy as though I'd 
never been your lover
	--Leonard Cohen, "Song [I almost went to bed]" (The Spice-Box of Earth)
*****

Rin slid her bedroom door closed as carefully as if they weren't alone in the
house, and let the kimono slide off her shoulders.  Naked in the lamplight, only
the way she looked at him belied the vulnerable way she held herself.  Haru
splayed his fingers over her heart as she sat on the edge of the bed, feeling
her pulse against his palm while he kissed stray raindrops off her face.  She
kept shivering, and after a minute he got up again.

"The blankets are going to waste," he said, and Rin nodded, tucking her knees
against her chest to give him room to turn back the covers.

"You're still half-dressed," she pointed out as she snuggled down.

"I know."  Haru slid in next to her, and she ran a hand up the inside of his
thigh, caressing him through rain-soaked fabric.  He sucked in a sharp breath at
the knowing way her fingers worked against his cock.  He closed his eyes and
sprawled beside her, trying to muster the willpower to stop her.  "Rin--"  Her
lips moved against his ear, playing with the studs; the hand that wasn't busy
between his legs stroked his throat and the collar he was wearing.  "That
feels--"  A light, slow lick along his jaw made him lose track of the sentence. 
He caught her by the waist and rolled over, pinning her under his weight,
gritting his teeth with the effort of not grinding against the softness of her
body.  "We've got all night, love.  D'you have your heart set on hard and fast?"

A slow shiver went through her.  "No."  She lifted her head off the pillow and
kissed his chin.  "Touching you just feels so good."

"You have _no_ idea," Haru replied fervently.  He lifted himself off her,
cradling her face between his hands and kissing her slowly while he got
comfortable beside her.  He nudged her head so that she was facing away from
him, and began kissing up along her throat.  She made an appreciative sound when
he traced the whorls of her ear with his tongue, giving extra attention to the
sensitive place behind the lobe; when he stopped, she gave him a sidelong
glance.  "Turn over," he said, and she stretched and obeyed, gathering a pillow
up under her chest and resting her cheek on it.  Haru kissed the small of her
back, began to make his way up her spine; when his lips reached her hairline, he
slid one hand up the inside of her thigh, cradling her in his palm while he
nipped the base of her neck.  She shivered violently when he put weight on her
back, holding her still while he ran his tongue over her vertebrae.  The subtle
changes in her body as she responded made him smile against her skin.

He kept his hand between her legs while he continued kissing around the back of
her neck; he explored behind her ears, tracing cartilage and bone, but always
returned to the base of her skull.  She twisted helplessly under him when he
used his tongue and the edges of his teeth; whimpered when he took his mouth
away and carefully exhaled over her skin.  He rested his cheek on the back of
her head, savoring the obvious effort she was making to breathe steadily.

"Haru--"

"Hmm?"  He slid his fingers idly back and forth against her, smiling at the warm
wetness that undermined the forced steadiness in her voice.  She shuddered and
whispered something incoherent as he stroked her with far more gentleness than
he'd used on her neck.  "You ok?"

"Mmm.  Are you going to let me move?"  The last words disintegrated into a
startled sigh when he kissed her shoulder and rubbed against her with a little
more force.  She made a sound that might have been the beginning of his name,
but it was lost in a string of barely-audible syllables that meant nothing. 
Haru closed his eyes and listened: the sound of her voice, as she lost control
of what she was saying, had been a major feature of every erotic dream he could
remember.  The need for caution every other time they'd been together had taught
her to keep her voice down, but he had a vivid idea of what she might sound
like, freed of worry and paranoia.

"Maybe," he murmured.

" . . . what?"  The confusion in the single word made him chuckle under his
breath.

"Nothing."  He nuzzled the back of her neck, her hair tickling his face, and
kept moving his fingers.  "Rin."

"Mmm?"

"Just let me touch you for a while.  Trust me?"  He kissed the side of her neck,
the shallow indentation behind her collarbone; she twitched under him when he
sucked hard at the soft skin there, and he felt her legs open a little more. 
Her heart was racing, the pulse fluttering against his cheek.

"Always," she whispered back, and what he heard in her voice, felt in her body,
made him moan into her neck.  He slid an arm under her, gripping her shoulder
and holding her against him as he sat up.  A flicker out of the corner of his
eye reminded him that there was a mirror across from the bed, and he stared at
it for a moment.  Their eyes met in the reflection and Rin smiled, her head
falling back on his shoulder.  She let him lay her down across his lap, her
slight body frighteningly easy to manipulate.  He traced the lines of her ribs,
the unevenness where they'd been broken repeatedly in childhood, and for a
moment was almost blinded with anger.

Rin felt it, propped herself up on one elbow and touched his face.  "It doesn't
matter."  She took his hand in hers, and twisted one of his rings around.

"I should get rid of those," Haru said, and pulled the bands off, dropping them
on the bedside table with a faint clank.  Rin wrapped a necklace around her
fingers, rubbed at his collar again.

"Leave the rest."

Haru had a sudden, vivid memory of the red impressions their jewelry had often
left in each other's skin, of Rin using a scarf to cover them more than once. 
Her skin was far more sensitive than his, and it sometimes took hours for the
imprints to fade.  The delicacy of her body almost made him flinch; instead, he
moved his legs out from under her, and slid his hands around her sides.  She let
herself be eased onto her back, and he kissed the damaged bones that would never
be perfect again.  He felt her breath catch, from pleasure or memory; he moved
his mouth to her breast, and one hand back between her legs.  Her hips shifted,
pushing into his fingers, and she whispered something he couldn't quite hear. 
He kissed further down along her body, helpless anger channeling into a need to
make her forget everything that had ever been done to her, everything but what
he was doing.

When he nudged at her thighs, she spread them wider without any further
prompting, something that had always taken coaxing before.  He glanced up at her
face, saw the faint hint of color on her cheeks, and smiled at her before he
bent to replace his fingers with his mouth.  He let his hand wander down her
leg, caressing idly while paying close attention to her responses, relearning
how much pressure she liked, what angles made shudders run through her.  When he
took another quick look at her face, she was almost expressionless, her eyes
squeezed shut.  The heat radiating off her body warmed his face, and he shivered
with anticipation, pressing his finger into her.  "Is that ok?" he asked,
rubbing his cheek hard against her thigh.

"Yes," she managed, and he pushed further, as far as he could reach.  The
stifled cry that escaped her in response sent a shudder of empathy through him. 
Having any part of his body in hers made him want more; he eased another careful
finger into her.  She began to relax against his hand, warm dampness on his
knuckles and palm and thumb while he touched her inside and out; he let her
adjust to his touch before he began to explore her with his mouth again.  She
arched hungrily against him, and he caressed her harder, trying to coordinate
his fingers and tongue.

"Breathe, love," he said softly, when she abruptly stopped moving.  She was
quivering with tension, her body taut with the effort of holding herself still. 
It made him smile through his own body's sympathetic ache.  He carefully
repeated what he had just done, and watched her fingers claw at the sheets
beside his head.  "Rin.  Breathe," he repeated, enjoying the noises she was
making: quick, startled gasps punctuating the constant murmur that was too faint
to make out.  She made a soft sound of protest, but inhaled slowly.  Only her
hands were moving, running convulsively from the sheets to his shoulders and
upper arms, any part of him she could reach.  He freed up a hand and took hers,
twining their fingers and rubbing his thumb over her palm.

Her breathing went shallow again almost at once, and Haru closed his eyes to
savor the moment when she climaxed, the helpless tremors that ran through her
while she tried not to move away from his mouth.  Her nails gouged into his
skin, a reflex she had acquired when they learned that it was the only way she
could keep from making more noise than had ever been safe.  The choked-off sound
that accompanied the sudden pain in his hand and shoulder sent a pleasant shiver
down his spine.

The tension in her body eased, but didn't vanish entirely.  He kissed her thighs
lightly and rested his head in the cradle between her hips and ribcage, inhaling
the warm scents of arousal and sweat while she released his hand and threaded
her fingers through his hair.  A gentle tug told him that she wanted him closer;
he burrowed his face into her skin, parting his lips to breathe through both his
mouth and nose.  He closed his eyes and licked her slowly, from the slight curve
of her belly and up between her breasts, wondering how much ordinary people
appreciated the added dimensions of taste and smell.  The differences between
Jyuunishi and uncursed people ran deeper than they liked to admit.

He moved to lie beside her, leaving one hand nestled between her legs while he
hugged her with the other arm.  She stretched in a languid way that made him
smile, her eyes fixed on his.  The stretch worked through her entire body,
giving him a beautiful view of her breasts as her back arched, before she curled
against him and finally relaxed completely.  "Love you," he whispered, sliding
his hand around to stroke her back.  She didn't flinch when he touched her scar,
and that gave him another layer of satisfaction.

"Mmm," she murmured back, kissing his throat.  He laughed at the lazy
contentment in her voice, then moaned involuntarily as her tongue traced his
pulse and moved down to the shallow crescent cuts in his skin.  She made no
apology for the small wounds, but paid careful attention to them.  He closed his
eyes and let himself think of nothing but what she was doing.

They held each other close for a long time, savoring the freedom to take their
time.  The ache of needing her was steady, but the anticipation was warm and
pleasant.  Her hands wandered over his bare upper body and outside his pants;
the caresses might almost have been innocent except for the way she returned
more and more frequently to stroke his erection.  Haru let himself press into
her touch, the soft friction of her palm, and resisted the temptation to finish
undressing until she finally plucked at the fabric of his pants with a sound of
annoyance.

"These have to go," she said, and he obligingly began working them down over his
hips.  Her fingers traced the lines of his body that were exposed while he
peeled the offending clothing off.  "Much better," she murmured when he was
naked and lying down beside her again.  Her hands slid up to cup his face while
she kissed him, and he slowly rolled onto his back, turning control over to her.

"Take me when you want me," he said when she lifted her head.  Rin sat up and
smiled.  The bed shifted as she knelt beside him and started caressing him.  He
let himself respond freely to her touch until he felt her lips and tongue on his
cock.  The jolt of pleasure was almost too intense to form words through; he
reached down and touched her face, stopping her.

"N-not like that."  He fingered a lock of hair that had escaped from behind her
ear.  "I want to be inside you the first time."

The warmth of her breath on him as she spoke made him tremble.  "Even though you
did it for me?"  A torturously slow, open-mouthed kiss punctuated the words. 
"We have as long as we want, remember?"  There was a raw intensity in her eyes
that he didn't recognize.  He remembered seeing desire on her face, and need,
but never the lust that was there now.  The hint of ferocity sang to the parts
of him that he had spent his life trying to keep under control.  She lowered her
head and kissed him again, her lips parted temptingly, and it was all he could
do not to bury his fingers in her hair and let himself be lost.  He gritted his
teeth and tried to ignore the way exhaustion and his earlier fury were
conspiring to keep his rougher side too close to the surface.

"Don't, lovely girl, please--"

"All right," she said, and the bed shifted again as she straddled him and kissed
his chest.  He lay almost motionless under her while she ran her nails lightly
along his sides and reached down to guide their bodies together.  She took her
time, easing into place, using her other hand to brace herself on his chest. 
The slow deliberation of her movements made it hard not to push up into the
welcoming heat of her body.  Then her full weight was on him, and her fingers
were stroking his hair, and the pleasure of it made him gasp.

"Don't move," he managed, sliding his arms around her and holding her still,
unable to keep himself from arching deeper into her.  When she kissed him he
tightened his grip on her and shook his head, repeating, "Don't move."

"Hmm?"  She tilted her head at him but obediently held still.

"Just for a couple of minutes, love."  Even the movement of her breathing
against him felt good.  "It's just . . . my body's ready to come, and the rest
of me would rather wait a while."

Rin nodded and tucked her head under his chin, tracing light circles over his
chest with one fingertip.  Her heart beat against him, indistinguishable from
his.  "I want you every way I can think of," she said quietly; the intensity in
her was undiminished by the fact that he couldn't see her face, that her voice
had softened.  "Like this, and in my mouth, and kissing me until I can't breathe
anymore--"  She took his hand and rubbed her cheek hard along the inside of his
arm.  "All at once."  He stroked her hair, felt her lips brush his arm, her
tongue outlining the curved lines of his tattoo as he thrust into her again. 
She rested her hands on his chest and smiled, pushing back against him.

The feel of their bodies moving together made his breath catch, but after a few
moments Rin shook her head and broke the rhythm they'd established, tightening
her arms around him as she turned onto her back.  He blinked at her, startled,
and she laced her fingers behind his head and pulled him down into a kiss that
made him dizzy.  "You don't have to be so gentle just because of--because this
is the first time we've been together in so long," she said when they paused for
air.  "I won't break."  She kissed his throat and shoulder.  "Don't worry. 
Whatever mood you're in, I love you."  He touched her face and felt tears on her
cheek.

"Rin--"

"I can feel you holding back," she said.  Her fingers trailed through his hair,
caressing and possessive.  She dropped her head back onto the pillow and pulled
him tightly against her.  "Whatever you need, it's ok."  He buried his face
against her neck, turning blindly toward her tears--tasting the salt, feeling
the thrum of her vocal cords under his tongue.

"I love you," he whispered.  Small words for the tide flowing through him.  The
need to touch and taste and consume her was overwhelming, leaving almost no room
for tenderness.  "I'm just scared--I've missed you so much, I--"

"I know."  The raw ache in her voice made him push deeper into her, eliciting a
whimper that had nothing to do with pain.  "Harder," she said when he eased
back, and he obeyed.  Her body undulated against him in response, the force of
it running from her torso and through her limbs.  "Harder, harder . . . "  He
hesitated another moment, cradling her face with the hand that wasn't supporting
his weight; she turned her head and licked at his palm and fingers.  "Harder,
Haru," she whispered, with that low fierceness that made him want her in a way
he didn't quite trust.  Her thighs clenched against his hips.  "I don't want to
feel anything else."  Haru traced her lips, and she moved her head so his finger
slid into her mouth.  The muscles in her throat moved against his cheek while
she sucked at him, and he put more weight on her body, pushing her hard against
the bed.  Her approving moan vibrated though his hand and face, and he stopped
trying to stay in control of himself, the dangerous edge their family called
'Black' driving him while he thrust into her again and again.

The rest of the world burned off like fog at sunrise; guilt and helplessness
lost in the simple _rightness_ of being inside her, surrounded by her scent and
voice, the exquisite feel of her pulse under his tongue and his chest, around
his cock.  He had no idea what she was saying, even though he vaguely heard his
own voice answering her; all that mattered was the soft pliability of her body,
broken only where their bones ground hard against each other, and the need to
get just a bit closer, and closer again.  He barely felt the way her nails were
burying themselves in his back, raking down along his spine.

His eyes closed involuntarily when he climaxed, an instant of blinding darkness
before he forced them open again.  Rin caressed him lightly while the wave of
pleasure receded, and he started to register the pain in his back when her hands
brushed against the scratches she'd left.  Details took a moment to come into
focus: the sheen of sweat on her skin, the raggedness of her breathing, the
vibrant flush in tear-streaked cheeks.  "Rin?"  His throat tightened with worry.

"I'm fine," she said.  Haru lifted his weight off her so she could take a deep
breath; her arms locked around him to keep him from moving more than an inch
away from her.  "Don't move."

Haru compromised by holding her and turning onto his side; she clung to him,
twining her legs with his, keeping their bodies joined.  A flicker of pain
crossed her face as they settled.

"I hurt you," he said softly, not needing to frame it as a question.  The faint
scent of blood mixed with sweat and sex made his stomach turn over.

"Not much," she replied, shaking her head.  When he opened his mouth to
apologize she kissed him.  "And it still felt good.  I love the feel of you when
you're like that."  She stretched, and marks above her breasts caught his eyes:
imprints from his necklace, scratches from the pendant, reddening bruises from
his mouth.  Staring at them brought back only a hazy impression of needing to
taste her while she writhed under him.

"I don't under--"  Rin pressed her fingertips against his mouth, and he kissed
them instinctively.  When his tongue touched the edges of her nails, he tasted
coppery traces of his own blood.

"I needed that as much as you did," she said.  "Every second of it."  Haru
fingered a long welt across her collarbone, listening, and she touched it as
well.  "This doesn't turn me on, but it's nothing, Haru."

"Make me understand," he whispered, resting his head on her shoulder, staring at
the darkening marks.

"I don't know how to say it.  There're so many things mixed together in my
head--"

"Try.  Please."

Rin said nothing for a few minutes, and Haru held her in silence.  "I love you,"
she said finally.  "You're sweet and kind and gentle, and . . . that's not all
you are.  I want all of you, not just the parts you think are safe enough for
other people to see.  And . . . " she trailed off again, thinking.  "What you
just did to me felt good.  Really, really good.  Like you were filling up all
the emptiness in me, not just my body."  She shifted herself against him,
reminding them both that their bodies were still connected.  Her muscles
clenched against his cock, which stirred slightly in response.  She pressed her
mouth against his ear.  "I love having you lose control, even if it hurts a
little.  And it feels good when you hold me against the bed.  It makes me feel .
. . safe?  Like you're between me and the world."

"Being held down makes you feel safe?" he asked, and Rin kissed his hair
lightly.

"I don't want to talk anymore," she said, fingering the row of earrings in his
left lobe.  "Not right now."

"Ok."  His lips moved gently along her jaw, her cheekbone, the tip of her nose. 
"Do you want to go to sleep?"

"Not yet.  I want a shower and a soak."  She turned her head and stared out the
window at the rain.  "And we should probably make sure the place is locked up."

"Shihan said he'd take care of the dojo."  Haru nuzzled her shoulder gently as
she eased out of his arms and knelt beside him, wincing as their bodies slipped
apart.  He rolled onto his stomach and slid his fingers between her legs, a
gentle, apologetic touch.  She stayed still and let him caress her, ignoring the
coolness of the night and the wetness slowly leaving her body.  When Haru
finally sat up, his hand and her thighs were damp and glistening.


(continued in part 2b)

********

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!

"Alive Through the Dawn" © 2004-2006 by Ysabet MacFarlane
<ba087@chebucto.ns.ca>.
Edited by Alishya Lane; additional beta work by Flamika and Ginny T.

Head cheerleader: KawaiiAyu.

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.

All quoted lyrics/epigraphs are the property of their copyright holders, and are
also used without permission.  The title "Alive Through the Dawn" comes from the
song "Crazy" by Tori Amos, found on the album "Scarlet's Walk".