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Hikaru was in a bad mood.
But when was he ever not in a bad mood? Kaoru would probably say. If he were here.
But he wasn't here. Which would explain the grumpy frown on Hikaru's face. Especially since Kaoru had distinctly said he'd come to his house warming party/baby shower.
He lied.
Hikaru scratched at the floor with his fancy dress shoe again, wearing in the squeaky marble. He hated it. It was too white. And sparkly. Who's idea was it to remodel his house in the color of Ricotta? Probably Kaoru's. Would've been better in Chantilly.
Then he perked up, having to stretch a strained smile as a nameless man walked into his foyer. Dressed in a brown tailcoat. He hated him too. His hat was fuzzy and his shoes were ugly. Who was his stylist? He looked dreadful.
"Wonderful party, Mr. Hitachiin." He said, despite just coming through the door. "A lovely home too."
Hikaru nodded, still smiling. I guess he hadn't noticed the awful tile. Good.
"Thank you." He replied, too impolitely for an extravagant party host but he didn't notice that either. The old man's eyes were too busy dancing across something over his shoulder.
"A lovely wife you've got yourself there too." He said. But it was almost like his voice was drifting elsewhere. Particularly like a flirt that was traveling across his new house, onto his brand new wife.
It took Hikaru a moment, but when he noticed who the old man was still looking at, as he strutted so swiftly towards them, he gasped.
The audacity.
He was wearing ugly shoes and hitting on his wife!
This was obviously somehow Kaoru's fault.
Abort! Abort!
"Ah, sorry for the inconvenience! The party's outside now!" Hikaru exclaimed obnoxiously, Thrusting his arm out and locking elbows with the old man who, by Hikaru's sudden surprise, was a lot older than he looked because he nearly toppled all the way over when Hikaru did that, but that was just minorly unfortunate.
"Ah," the man yelped. "Outside now? But it's terribly dark. How will people see?"
Hikaru hadn't thought far enough ahead to give a proper response so he promptly shut the door in his face instead. Then locked it. Making sure no other strangers could wonder inside his home.
Honestly, he knew none of these people. Who was in charge of the guest list?
Hikaru exhaled and, being finally relieved of his humble greeting duties, he half walked, half drug himself over to the buffet table where his chef was currently serving food that was decorated neatly on a platter he held in front of his wife who, again, looked more interested in the fancy tuna than in him. Her husband.
The husband she hadn't seen in almost an hour. The husband who she had banished to the front room to greet the guests in, because Kaoru hadn't showed up. The husband who was now rubbing his nose into her cheek yet she still didn't care enough about him to notice-
Haruhi looked up, voice so, so gentle. Like she was talking to a cloud that could very easily be blown away with the softest breath. "That tickles."
Hikaru stopped. Then smiled, as he rubbed at his 3 o-clock (invisible) shadow "ne, sorry Haruhi. I guess I should shave."
"Not you." She grumbled rudely. Apparently he had interrupted something. "I was talking to the baby."
But Hikaru just grinned "Pardon the intrusion." He said but he didn't sound very sorry.
He bent down and grabbed her hand, gently, so that her fingers barely hung off his hand, as he kissed her knuckles one by one. "Are you enjoying your party, dear?"
"Not really." She said. "Is it almost over?"
A hand laid fondly atop the round bump under her dress. "It can be." He said. "Just say the word and I'll signal the emergency sprinklers. The room'll be empty in 2 minutes."
Haruhi gasped. "And wet our new ugly drapes?"
He nodded sternly. "It's a sacrifice we'll have to make."