Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Host Club had just ended for the day and everyone was straightening up the room; cleaning tea cups and saucers, clearing dishes, discarding half-eaten cakes and sandwiches. People were trickling out slowly as there became less and less to do.

Mori and Honey, now graduated, came back every afternoon to be a part of the club. In the last months before graduation, the pair had only planned on coming back for occasional visits. It felt odd, and even after Mori's younger brother- first-year Satoshi- joined the club on graduation night, the club dreaded losing them. Although, it had been delightfully easy to transition Satoshi into the club, as he already knew (courtesy of Mori) that Haruhi was a girl.

But just a few days after the start of the new term, Mori and Honey decided that they would like to return to the school after hours to participate in club activities. After talking it over with the headmaster (who was still very fond of all the original club members), they agreed that so long as Satoshi was attending Ouran, he saw no reason that Mori and Honey could not visit after school. And much to the delight of Tamaki, now that they were college students, it increased their appeal dramatically.

First Tamaki left, then the twins, followed by Mori, Honey, and Satoshi until the only ones left were Kyoya and Haruhi. This was how an afternoon typically went. Kyoya always had some last-minute thing to do on his laptop or write in his book. Haruhi tended to shoo everyone else out because she knew she could finish whatever was left of the chores on her own more efficiently rather than trying to give everyone mini-jobs to do. Neither minded being there together. There was no speech, no awkward tension. Just two unlikely friends who'd developed a silent acceptance of the other's presence.

In those moments after all the others had left, Haruhi dared to feel some form of closeness to Kyoya. They'd been slowly building a mutual understanding of each other every day since the exposition, and especially now that Haruhi's debt had been cleared for almost a month. For the longest time, she'd been expecting Kyoya to create a new one for her every time she so much as blinked the wrong way, but he never did. It was a very pleasant surprise – not to mention a huge shock – when one of her customers had accidentally knocked a teacup off of a table and Kyoya had merely looked up and sighed slightly before recording it in his black book. It was as if the customer had been one of Tamaki's or Hikaru's. Since then, she'd been able to breathe a little easier, though if she was honest with herself, she still half-expected Kyoya to have a change of heart one day and started racking up expenses for her again.

But today, that was not her concern. She wasn't concerned about much of anything, really, other than the one thing that seemed to be constantly in the back of her mind these days. Or, maybe that was the one person that was constantly in the back of her mind these days. The one person who was her silent, late-afternoon companion. The person whose sharp words and offhand remarks hid the most wonderful person with mostly wonderful intent, although sometimes even he didn't even realize it. He was this ridiculously incredible person that she knew so little about but found herself quickly wanting to know more.

She finished drying and putting away the dishes and gave the room one final inspection. When she'd wiped down the last spot and everything was cleaned to her satisfaction, she picked up her book bag.

"Haruhi, before you leave, I have a favor I need to ask of you," Kyoya spoke as he turned around in his chair to face her. This stopped Haruhi dead in her tracks. She put her bag back down on the table it had been resting on.

"What is it, senpai?"

"In a few weeks, my family will be attending the annual National Business Exposition Dinner and my father insists that I have a date for the evening."

"Wait, what-" Haruhi began, but Kyoya cut off the question.

"It's going to be a rather dry party, I'm afraid, but I'd like you to accompany me. I'm asking you because if I don't pick a lady to escort, my father is sure to pick one for me."

"So you chose me?"

Kyoya paused a moment before speaking and pushed up his glasses.

"Believe it or not, Haruhi, there's actually a reason you're a natural at hosting. You are intelligent and rather attractive, commoner or otherwise. You show ambition simply by attending Ouran as an honor student. So, yes, I chose to ask you. Honestly, you're my only logical option in a sea of girls in yellow dresses," he said everything so matter-of-factly that his request almost came off as indifferent. It didn't help that he'd done that insufferable thing where he adjusted his glasses to glint off the light so she couldn't tell how he was really feeling. His whole face was a mask of passiveness, something he'd mastered long ago. Haruhi narrowed her eyes. If he really didn't care, then he would have to live with taking a girl in a yellow dress. She may have found herself liking him a lot, but he had to like her, too, before she would agree to endure some dull, socialite event for him.

So, in a single fluid motion, she reached up and took his glasses off of their perch on his nose. Just before shock overwhelmed his features, Haruhi found exactly what she'd been looking for in his eyes: not just hope, but trepidation as well. If he was nervous, it meant he wanted her to say yes. Not just because he wanted any girl, but because he wanted her. That was reason enough to go to any party, no matter how boring. Gently, she folded up the glasses and handed them back to him with an air of complete nonchalance.

"I'd love to, senpai."

Kyoya placed the glasses back on his head, slight surprise still evident on his face. There was something else there, too. Could it have been... amusement? In any case, if he was happy she'd accepted, he hid it well. If he was even mildly irritated at her boldness, there was no sign of it.

"Wonderful. This will tell you everything you need to know," he said as he handed her a slip of paper. Haruhi took the paper and nodded.

"Now," Kyoya continued, "will you be needing a ride home?"

Haruhi fought the blush she felt rising to her cheeks. She hated being offered things by the Host Club- it made her feel like she was some sort of charity project.

"I don't want to impose. I'll just take the subway like I usually do," she replied with an offhand shrug. In truth, she hated taking the subway, especially now that it was later in the day. Later meant more tired and irritable people just getting off of work. Plus, it was often crowded and hot, but she knew it was still better than walking. Kyoya frowned slightly.

"While the subway may be free, it's not usually a pleasant ride. Please, let me take you home."

"Kyoya senpai-" Once again, he cut her off before she could continue.

"I insist."

Haruhi sighed.

"All right."

"Excellent. By the way, you should get used to addressing me without the honorific. It'll seem much more natural at the dinner if we go as friends."

Again, his words seemed to hold no weight to him, nor did they betray the implied intimacy of such a gesture, so she just nodded. He held the door open for her, and they stepped out of Music Room #3 together. Their ride was already waiting out in front of the school: a simple but sleek-looking black car. Haruhi noted this at the back of her head; it seemed the rich didn't always travel in a limo. The exterior of the car was beautiful, and when she got inside the rest of it was so luxurious she was sure it cost as much as a limo, at least.

Kyoya sat in the back seat with her, gave Tachibana Haruhi's address, and the car took off without another word. Haruhi busied herself by opening up the paper Kyoya had given her.

Haruhi's eyes widened. This letter was addressed to her. She was almost angry at his smug confidence, but her surprise quickly melted into affection. Of course he would do something like that. Even if she hadn't said yes, Kyoya was always prepared for every outcome.

Formal dress. She had a few nice dresses, but they weren't meant for a wealthy party that called for an evening gown. They were more appropriate for a dance at her old school. She had to bite back a sigh. It would seem she'd have to ask the Hitachiins for a little assistance. Her only consolation in making this decision was that she knew the twins would take great pleasure in dressing her up. They'd probably think she went off the deep end, asking them to put her in a dress. The upside was that she knew for a fact she wouldn't disappoint in a Hitachiin gown.

She had no doubt that Kyoya's face when he saw her would make the whole ordeal of putting on a custom-made, designer dress worthwhile. It was high time she saw some real emotion on his face without having to forcibly remove his glasses.

April 18th. That was two weeks from tomorrow. By that time she would need to have a dress, brush up on her meal etiquette, and memorize the four people on the list he'd given her.

She thought about all of this and she almost forgot where she was and who she was with. When she came back from the far-off reaches of her own mind, she found Kyoya staring at (studying?) her. She stared right back, tilting her head slightly to the side in questioning.

"Arai was right," he said simply when he realized she'd noticed. "That far-away look you get when you're in thought is rather alluring, even if you're probably only thinking about the dinner."

Haruhi wasn't sure whether to be irritated that he was able to read her so easily or flattered that he paid her so much attention. At the moment, she was feeling some sort of bizarre mixture of the two, so she just raised an eyebrow.

"That was a compliment, Haruhi. You should learn how to respond to them as you are bound to get quite a few of them at the party." This time, Haruhi couldn't stop the color from coming to her cheeks. Just a moment later, the car was pulling into Haruhi's apartment complex.

"It would seem that we've arrived," Kyoya stated. Haruhi nodded.

"Thank you for the ride, Kyoya se-" she stopped short haltingly before she could attach the honorific.

"Thank you, Kyoya." There was the slightest of smiles on his face as he replied,

"My pleasure."

Tachibana stepped out to open Haruhi's door, and Haruhi picked up her bag. Kyoya stepped out of the car and walked her to her apartment door.

"I don't suppose you'd like to come in for a moment for some tea?" she asked him when they were there, not really expecting a yes but asking out of courtesy. The polite 'no, thank you' was halfway out of his mouth, but something stopped him. He wasn't sure what it was. Everything logical inside of him was screaming at his hesitation. Of course, the correct answer was no. By the look of shy embarrassment on Haruhi's face, that was the answer she was expecting.

Then, it suddenly hit him. That was what was stopping him. That look, that adorable, somehow

utterly irresistible look on her face was what was stopping the 'no' that should have come so easily to him.

As Kyoya Otori, he knew he had endless amounts of work to do. He knew family dinners were becoming increasingly important. He knew all of this with absolute certainty, but, in the back of his mind he heard Fuyumi telling him to relax a little. The echo of the words of his sister was barely enough to quiet his controlled nature.

He usually never gave in to his whims, but lately, he was finding more and more reasons to. He'd bought the company, he'd outdone himself. He surpassed every expectation just as he'd always known he could. Everything he'd done for 'his' merit had always been to further himself in the eyes of his father.

Why continue to seek out so-called merit when there was really none to be had for him? All the merits he could see were in the girl staring shyly at him, just inside the doorway to her apartment. So, he smiled at her and said,

"Thank you, that would be lovely."

"Oh, alright then." He chuckled at her slightly bewildered expression as she stepped aside to let him in.

"Um, well, what would you like to drink? We have green and oolong," she said as she rummaged through the cabinets.

"Oolong, please," Kyoya replied offhandedly, unwittingly destroying the second of Haruhi's two expectations for that day.

Huh, I always figured he'd be a green tea sort of person, she thought, pulling out the oolong tea and preparing it. Truthfully, green tea was the tea typically served at home at almost every family dinner, and Kyoya grew tired of it.

The silence fell into the comfortable pattern the two of them knew so well. If she'd been alone with any other host member in her apartment, she would have felt it a little awkward. But with Kyoya, she was alone with him so often that it simply felt natural. She pulled out her teapot and fell into a rhythm amongst the tapping of Kyoya's laptop behind her.

When she'd finished, she came and sat by Kyoya, handing him his cup of tea wordlessly as she drank her own.

Have we been together so often that she knows how I take my tea now? He thought as he took a sip. Sure enough, she did. He glanced over at her without breaking the flow of words that were coming off of his fingertips. She was curled up reading a book she must've picked up when he wasn't looking. Even though she was sitting against the far corner and Kyoya was on the opposite end, there was still only half of a foot separating them.

Stupid commoner's couches, he thought as he continued typing. Designed with no concept of personal space. It's just plain distracting. How am I supposed to get work done when she's sitting right there? His eyes flicked over to her once more. Her right hand was wrapped loosely around the cup, which she'd take a sip from every so often. Her legs were tucked under her, and her left hand was perched at the top of the book she was reading, acting both as a support and a page-turner.

I didn't know she could look so relaxed. His thoughts started flowing faster than he could dispel them, something that happened often when he really got to thinking about something. It was usually useful during work but now was just bothersome. She's actually very pretty when she's not yelling at someone... but I already knew that. To be honest, she's rather pretty even when she is yelling at someone. But I like her this way. I like the quiet. I like-

That's when he noticed he'd stopped typing. Evidently, Haruhi had noticed it as well, because she looked up from her book.

"Everything alright, Kyoya?" she asked him. I like the way my name sounds when she says it without the honorific.

"Just curious as to what you're reading," he replied without batting an eye.

"You know, I'm glad you asked," she said in that voice he'd only ever heard when she was greeting a customer on an exceptionally good day, but was now directed towards him. Her eyes sparkled as she told him everything about the fiction book she was reading for her American Literature class. Though he'd already read it for the same class last year, he listened as she told him.

"I take it you're enjoying it, then?" he asked her with a smirk when she finished. She blushed.

"It's just a good book, that's all."

"I liked it when I read it, as well," he said as he returned to typing. There was that bewildered expression again. Kyoya was pleased he'd managed to get it out of her twice. Before she could say a thing, though, the door opened.

"Haruhi, darling, I'm home!" Ranka's singsong voice drifted into the room. Haruhi watched as Kyoya closed his laptop and set it aside.

"I see you have a guest!" Ranka continued as he came in, "Kyoya, how lovely it is to see you again!" Kyoya flashed his host smile.

"Ranka, you're looking wonderful as always."

"Such manners! Since you're already here, you must stay for dinner." At this, Haruhi looked up. She had to admit, with as well as those two got along, she wouldn't mind having Kyoya stay. But she knew him well enough to know he probably had ridiculous amounts of work to do without worrying about staying any longer than he already had.

"Dad, I'm sure Kyoya had things he has to do." Before she could continue, Kyoya stepped in.

"Not at all. Haruhi was polite enough to invite me in, I'd love to stay. I'll just have to let my father know I won't be joining the family for dinner." At this point, Haruhi was surprised, but not that surprised. Chalking it up to the list of everything else odd that had happened that day (and that list was getting unusually long), she shrugged and went back to her book.

"I'll get started on dinner in a bit, Dad."

"No rush, dear. So Kyoya," Ranka said as he turned back to him, "what brings you here?"

"Actually, it's funny you ask..."

Chapter Text

Dinner went off without a hitch, and Ranka was thrilled that Haruhi would be willingly doing something extracurricular that didn't include studying. He was well aware that whatever she did with the host club she was usually dragged to. To have her go of her own volition was something he considered a step in the right direction. That being said, he gave a wholehearted 'yes' when Kyoya asked to make sure it was okay that Haruhi go. Actually, what he'd said was,

"My little girl attending the National Business Exposition Dinner with an Otori! Why, how can I say no?" To which Kyoya had smiled and Haruhi had just barely held back a sigh. To her, Kyoya would never be "an Otori." Though she knew, recognized, and respected his wealth and power, in her eyes he would always be just Kyoya.

After dinner, Kyoya straightened the tie on his uniform, thanked both of them for their hospitality, and left. As soon as he was out the door, Ranka burst into talk about what Haruhi would wear (got it covered, Dad), who would be there (I have a list of a few of them if you'd like to see it), and how wonderful it was that his daughter would finally be socializing outside of that Host Club.

"I socialize!" Haruhi argued.

"Not enough dear, not enough," he brushed her off with a wave of his hand. "Think of the people you could meet- maybe you'll even meet someone who can help you along your way to being a lawyer." Haruhi chose not to argue or respond to her father, it being obvious that he'd been whisked away to a full-blown mind theatre.

"Yeah, Dad. Maybe," she replied with a little smile as she started on the dishes. It really had been a weird night, but as she looked back on it, she couldn't help but smile.

Absolutely, undeniably weird, but somehow inarguably enjoyable. Kyoya had been nothing less than gentlemanly, and Haruhi knew him well enough to know that it was all genuine. That was probably what surprised her the most, out of asking her to go to the dinner, accepting her offer for tea, the choice of oolong over green, and staying for dinner. What really got her was that there had been no doubt in her mind that Kyoya had really enjoyed himself being there with them. That was something she'd have to think about later, though, because right then the daunting amount of schoolwork in her bag demanded all of her attention.

She relaxed against the couch in nearly the same position she'd been in earlier, only this time replacing the book and mug for a textbook, notebook, and pencil, and started work on the only thing that could keep her mind from wandering to the mysterious man they called the Shadow King.

"So what you're saying is-"

"-you want us to dress you up?"

"You've finally lost it, Haruhi," the twins finally said together, doubled over laughing.

"So... you're not going to lend me a dress?" Haruhi asked in confusion. They straightened up immediately, seriousness overtaking their faces.

"Are you crazy? We're not going to lend you a dress, Haruhi. We're going to make one for you."

Haruhi couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or relieved.

"Thank you. I really appreciate that."

"Are you kidding? There's nothing we'd rather do," Kaoru said with a smile.

"But would you mind telling us why you need such a nice dress?" Hikaru continued.

"Yeah, the Host Club isn't holding a big party or anything any time soon."

Haruhi sighed. She figured this question would come, but she still wasn't pleased that she had to answer it. She'd already cleared telling the others with Kyoya, not being able to imagine why he'd want to keep it a secret, but also knowing it'd be better to ask. She looked at the twins and said simply,

"I'm attending a business dinner with Kyoya on April 18th, and he told me I needed to dress formally. I may be a commoner, but I know what you rich people consider 'formal,' and that I don't own anything fitting that description." They looked at her with wide eyes. Though one part of her sentence had shocked them more than anything else, they chose not to address it just yet.

"You're attending the National Business Exposition Dinner?" they asked in amazement.

"You don't have to sound so surprised," she huffed in response.

"It's just that-" Kaoru began.

"-usually only the elite of the elite go to the Exposition Dinner." Hikaru went on.

"So why would Kyoya senpai ask you?" Kaoru finished.

"No offense, of course," they added in unison, a mischievous gleam in their eyes.

"None taken, I've been wondering the same thing myself," Haruhi replied, more to herself than the twins. Even though he already sort of explained it to me, I still don't understand. He said I was pretty, smart, and ambitious. It was nice of him to say and all, but I've got nothing on the girls in his class. I know that. They're even prettier than I am, especially since they're not masquerading as boys. They'd be smart, too, and ambitious, being in Class A and all. I guess I never really thought about my competition. But it seems weird to think of it like that, seeing as how I never had a chance anyway. I'm not really part of the competition. The twins were disappointed they hadn't gotten a rise out of her, but they quickly forgot it when they saw the look in Haruhi's eyes.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Hikaru said quickly.

"Yeah, there's no doubt you're the best choice," Kaoru agreed.

"How about this? If you like, when you come over to have the dress fitted, we'll have our private tutor Miyomoto hakase* give you a crash course in formal etiquette," Hikaru suggested.

"There isn't a better teacher in all of Japan," Kaoru assured her. They both smiled sincerely, and it was one of the rare times when they were showing that they really cared about her rather than pretending she was their toy. She smiled back.

"Thanks, you guys. I can't tell you how much that means." It astonished both of them that she said yes so willingly, but their smiles quickly returned. She didn't argue when they each slung an arm around her as they began walking to the Host Club, looking to everyone else to be the most carefree trio in the world.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Dad, would it be okay if I went over to Hikaru and Kaoru's place this Saturday?"

Haruhi and Ranka had just sat down to eat when she raised this question. It was a Wednesday evening, and the twins had just agreed to make the dress on Monday. When they'd first suggested she come Saturday for the fitting, she thought they were joking. She'd sewn before and she knew full well it took longer than five days to design and create a dress when you added school into the equation. But the twins insisted, saying that their maids would be more than happy to help get the dress done in time. Plus, they added, they already had Haruhi's measurements from when their mother had helped with club cosplay.

All she was left to do was grumble something about rich people under her breath and agree begrudgingly as the twins beamed at her.

"Well, you know that I trust everyone in the club, dear - except that shady Tamaki - and I'm perfectly fine with you spending your spare time with them. I'd even encourage you to, but you've never wanted to before," Ranka replied with a slight pout to Haruhi's earlier question.

"I kind of have to. They've been nice enough to make me a dress for the dinner and they need me to be there for the last-minute alterations. It's a small price to pay for such a huge favor."

"How wonderful! I knew those twins were good ones from the moment I met them," he gushed.

"You're not around them all day long," she muttered under her breath. Still, I have to admit that it's awfully nice what they're doing for me. She smiled. And all they asked was why I needed it. They didn't press me or demand any favors in return. Maybe they're starting to grow even more than I thought. They're going to be a good pair of rich people when they're older. Thinking of rich people as anything other than spoiled and over-the-top made her chuckle. Maybe she was starting to grow a little herself.

"What's so funny?" Ranka asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Nothing, Dad. Just a little private joke." Ranka gave her a confused look but didn't say anything. They finished dinner in comfortable silence and Haruhi excused herself to go work on homework. Ranka smiled at her back as she left.

She's finally learning how to depend on people. Kotoko, I think our little girl's maturing even more than she already has. With that, he went to work on the dishes, knowing somehow that for once Haruhi wouldn't come out when he was halfway done and insist on finishing them.

The last of the girls just started trickling out on Thursday afternoon when Hikaru and Kaoru sidled up to Haruhi in tandem.

"Hey, guys. Listen, I'm going to need directions to your place for this Saturday."

"Don't worry about it," Hikaru said, "we'll send a car over to pick you up."

"You really don't have to do that."

"Of course we do. We wouldn't want something to happen to our toy before we have a chance to play with her," they replied in unison, faces gleaming darkly.

"Fine. When will the car be at my apartment?" she grumbled.

"9:30. We like to get started early," Kaoru answered with a grin.

"That works for me. The earlier we start, the better chance I have of catching the sale at the supermarket."

"Har-u-hi!" Tamaki practically sang as he skipped over to where they were standing.

"What are you doing with these shady twins?" he continued.

"We were just discussing how she would get to our house this Saturday," the twins answered for her.

"YOU'RE GOING TO THEIR HOUSE?"

"Calm down, senpai! They're making me a dress and have to make sure it fits."

"What?! I want to see Haruhi in a dress! Why can't I come?"

"Because you'll probably just end up getting in the way," Haruhi deadpanned, sending Tamaki to his corner of despair.

"Haru-chan, why do you need a dress?" Honey asked. Haruhi glanced over at Kyoya, but he didn't look up from his laptop.

"I'm going to the business exposition dinner, Honey senpai."

"Oh, I see. I think you'll have a lot of fun there, Haru-chan. I bet they have some pretty good cake, right Takashi?" To which Mori nodded. Tamaki chose to come out of his corner upon hearing this news.

"I've never heard of this dinner. What is it?" he asked, spreading his arms extravagantly. Haruhi opened her mouth to answer him, but Kyoya spoke for her.

"It's a meeting for the most powerful business leaders in Japan to discuss economic standing and new deals for the new fiscal year."

"What fun!" Tamaki said, eyes sparkling.

"Well, from what we've heard of it, it's one of the most intense nights of the entire year for most corporations," the twins countered.

"That's actually quite accurate. This will be my third year in attendance with my father, and though there is a pretense of friendliness, it's rather cutthroat."

"Oh, yeah. A friend of mine has been talking about it for a month and how his dad is finally going to take him." Satoshi- or, Zuka, as his friends called him (to the great amusement of the club)- said.

"So, remind me why I'm going, Kyoya," Haruhi interjected. There was a moment of silence, each club member waiting for the addition of a word that was, to them, glaringly obvious. Both Honey and Mori looked at Haruhi curiously before exchanging glances with the twins, who only shrugged. Zuka laughed out loud, as though he knew all along this would happen eventually. Tamaki stopped dead in his royal daydreams to gape at her.

"What? Why is everyone looking at me like that?" Haruhi said, to which Kyoya smirked.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Haruhi?" Tamaki said, shock evident on his face.

"Um, I don't think so, senpai," she replied, looking around her.

"You remembered it that time," Tamaki muttered.

"Remembered what? You guys are so weird!"

"I believe they're referring to the honorific you would usually place after my name, Haruhi," Kyoya interjected.

"Oh, right. I kind of forgot about that," Haruhi mumbled, placing a finger on her chin. She heard Tamaki yelling about it in the background, saying something about "Mommy," and "his precious little girl," and "stinging betrayal." The twins were calling him a drama king, which earned them a very fittingly histrionic wail. Honey tried to calm Tamaki down, and the Morinozuka brothers just watched to make sure they didn't get too out of line. Choosing to ignore the chaos behind her, Haruhi dismissed the issue with a wave of her hand.

"Anyway, like I was saying earlier- if it's so cutthroat, why does your father want you to bring a girl with you?" she continued, addressing Kyoya.

"That's a good question. This is the first year I've been asked to bring an escort. Come to think of it, neither of my brothers was ever asked to do something like this. Truthfully, I believe that my father was hoping I'd pick a girl from a powerful family for the sole purpose of furthering our connections in the business world. But honestly, I don't really care. He asked for an escort, and you have provided me with one, Haruhi. I suppose I should thank you for that." he replied, no expression on his face. Out of habit, she glanced at his eyes to see if she couldn't catch even the barest trace of emotion there. To her surprise, she didn't find the glare of the light that she was so used to seeing. In its place was such a tiny hint of softness Haruhi was almost certain she'd imagined it.

"You're welcome, I guess." Neither of them noticed the rest of the club watching the conversation like a tennis match, their heads collectively swiveling to whoever was talking at the moment.

"I still want to see Haruhi in a dress," Tamaki muttered inconsolably, choosing to drop the earlier issue.

"You know, I kinda want to see Haru-chan in her new dress, too," Honey mused. Haruhi thought about it for a moment before snapping her fingers.

"I know! How about this: if I promise to wear the dress for you guys on Monday once it's done, you promise not to bother Hikaru, Kaoru, or me during the fitting this Saturday."

The four boys nodded their assent, and even Tamaki looked placated.

"Good. And just so we understand each other, if I catch any of you snooping around on Saturday, I will withdraw my offer to show you the dress. Is that clear?" Haruhi's voice was so uncharacteristically authoritative that even Kyoya looked up from his work as everyone – even Hikaru and Kaoru - nodded once more. She very rarely used that voice, and it was even rarer that it was paired with a threat.

"Okay then. Well, the room's cleaned up so I'm going home. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Rather than say anything, they just nodded again as Haruhi closed the doors behind her. Once they'd recovered from the shock of her command, Honey gave a little gasp.

"Takashi, Satoshi, I just got the best idea!" Then he hopped up on Mori's shoulder and whispered it to him, and then relayed it once more to Zuka. When he was finished, Mori nodded and hummed, and Zuka broke into a huge grin.

"Great! Now we just have to ask Hika-chan and Kao-chan!"

"What is it, Honey senpai?" Kaoru asked as Hikaru looked on questioningly. Honey just beamed and motioned for them to come closer. They bent down in front of him as Honey explained his plan in whispers. The more the twins heard of it, the bigger their grins got.

"That's a great idea, senpai," Kaoru said with a smile.

"Definitely. We'll show you the plans tomorrow before school if you'd like." Hikaru suggested. Honey nodded, and with that, the five of them said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Honey was practically skipping, he was so excited. He just couldn't wait for Monday to roll around.

Haruhi blinked, and it was Saturday morning- exactly one week from the dinner. Her father had managed to get her into one of the more girlish outfits he'd bought for her and she was attempting to shove her phone and wallet into the tiny, totally dysfunctional handbag that went with the dress.

She only got halfway through her bowl of miso soup before there was a knock on the door. She glanced at the clock- 9:20.

They're early. She thought irritably as she downed the rest of her soup. Ranka reached the door before she did, opening it up to see a uniformed man waiting patiently.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up a Miss Fujioka."

"I'm coming," Haruhi called from the kitchen as she finished rinsing her bowl. She grabbed her bag from the table and joined the man on the walk in front of the door.

"See you in a bit, Dad."

"Have fun, dear!"

She followed the chauffeur to a Bentley, which was attracting the attention of passersby but wasn't at the center of a huge crowd, which Haruhi was beyond grateful for.

At least this one had the decency to be worth under a quarter of a million dollars.

The chauffeur opened the door for her and she slipped inside. As she sat in the car, she allowed herself to be just a little excited about the dress for the first time. It was true that she thought gender shouldn't be a factor in determining one's personality and she didn't really like wearing girly things around the club members for fear of being patronized. But despite all that, she liked having something nice to wear as much as the next girl did, and she trusted Hikaru and Kaoru to know her well enough to create a dress she'd like.

I wonder what it'll look like...

Before her imagination had the chance to take off, though, the car was pulling in front of the Hitachiin mansion. Her eyes widened, then narrowed.

Why am I even surprised anymore? she thought with a shake of her head. She went to reach for the door and found it being opened by the chauffeur.

I don't think I could ever get used to that, she thought offhandedly. They don't even open their own car doors.

Thanking the chauffeur, she stepped out, went up the steps, and rang the doorbell. The butler greeted her and ushered her inside. A maid asked her to wait in what she could only assume was an extension of the foyer. It opened up into a huge room with a staircase off to the left. There were two white couches situated around a glass coffee table, which is where Haruhi sat for just under a minute until Hikaru and Kaoru came barreling down the stairs.

"Haruhi!" they shouted.

"Right here." They ran over to the couch where she was getting up.

"Come on!" Hikaru grabbed her left arm and Kaoru took hold of her right as they dragged her upstairs.

"So, where exactly are we going?" Haruhi asked.

"Our room, where else?" Kaoru replied just in time for the trio to arrive in front of a set of large wooden doors.

"It's a bit of a mess, sorry about that," he continued as Hikaru pushed open the doors. A bit of a mess was a small understatement. It appeared to Haruhi as though the creative process had swallowed their room. Extra tables had been rolled in to accommodate them and were lined up side by side against three walls. Fabric and papers were mingled together so that the tops of the aforementioned tables couldn't even be seen. Several tan mannequins stood at posts around the room with seemingly random fabrics, clothing items, and objects draped on them.

But it must've been worth it, because in the center of the room, sitting gracefully on a white mannequin, was the most beautiful dress Haruhi had ever seen.

Chapter Text

"Is that... is that mine?" Haruhi asked, voice barely above a whisper. She was sure that any second, the twins would whisk away that mannequin telling her no, not that dress. But they never did. They just appreciated the expression on her face for a moment before Kaoru finally spoke.

"Whose else would it be? C'mon. We have to get you changed into it before we can fix anything."

For once, she did as they asked without question or complaint. Even as they spoke to each other and maneuvered around her with scissors and sewing articles like a practiced dance, it felt like a dream. It had to be, she figured, because the clothing she was wearing was simply too good to be true.

She didn't speak as the twins worked around her, just held as still as she could. They were finished in just under forty-five minutes with the help of a few maids, and as she shimmied out of the now-perfectly fitting dress, she had to hand it to Hikaru and Kaoru. What they'd done in the amount of time they did it was not only incredible, it seemed impossible. They had even managed to find the perfect pair of shoes for it.

She was almost sorry when she was back in her normal clothes, but for the first time, she was just a little bit excited to show it to the Host Club. But just a little. They were her friends, after all, and the only people other than her father who could appreciate her in the dress as a girl. She thanked the twins once more as she was guided out by the maids and into the second part of her visit: etiquette with Miyomoto hakase.

As the maids led her through the many winding halls of the manor, she realized that without them or a map, she would've easily gotten lost, even though there was an entire wing dedicated to whatever Miyomoto was privately tutoring the twins in. Thinking that, Haruhi came to wonder what exactly that was. After all, they already attended Ouran. What could a private tutor possibly be teaching them that the school didn't cover?

Etiquette must've been one of those things, although it seemed as though the twins hadn't retained any of it. She was again asked to wait in yet another sitting room and left to her own imagination for a good five minutes before a set of regal-looking double doors opened, making her turn her head to find the source of the sound.

It was on her left, and she watched as a striking older woman entered the room. She had such a presence about her that Haruhi felt herself stand up as she walked in. The woman looked her over, and while her face was set sternly, Haruhi could see the softness in her eyes. It was amazing what she'd learned to pick up after meeting Kyoya just from seeing someone's eyes. Granted, she'd already been perceptive, but trying to decipher Kyoya had just honed that skill.

"Fujioka Haruhi, I presume?" her stately voice matched her face and stature.

"Yes, ma'am," she replied.

"You may sit," Miyomoto said after a moment, but it was more of a request than a command. Still, Haruhi found herself sitting.

"Hitachiins Hikaru and Kaoru have informed me what it is you need to learn today and I must say that after so long with those two, I am happy to teach it to you, Miss Fujioka." As she said this, her whole face began to soften.

"Please ma'am, just call me Haruhi," she said. "No one calls me Miss Fujioka."

"One should not speak in definitives, Haruhi. Someone just did. In the future, should you want my attention, you may call me Miyomoto hakase, or simply Hakase."

Haruhi nodded.

"Good. Now we may begin our lesson. Since, fortunately for you, we are not encompassing all etiquette and only very specific parts of it appropriate for the event you are attending, we can cover it in one sitting."

That was the beginning of three grueling hours learning about utensil positioning, acceptable conversation topics, and so many posture tips it made her head spin. But at the end of it, when Miyomoto hakase had smiled ever so slightly and told her she just might pass for a wealthy young woman for one night, it was all worth it. Haruhi left the Hitachiin manor with her head held high and her back straight, feeling more certain of herself than she had in weeks.

And when she finally made her way down to the supermarket, the sale was still going, the cherry on top of her unbelievable day.

Monday morning found Haruhi running through the mental checklist she'd created.

Dress?

Check.

Etiquette?

Double check.

Reviewing Kyoya's important people list?

Hm...

Only one thing left to do then. With that, she headed to the Ouran library. The library, while almost always noisy, housed an excellent computer lab. She pushed the doors open to Library #2, which was the one she defaulted to because it was usually the least crowded of the three.

Since it was an hour before school started on a Monday morning, what would normally be a clamoring din was now more of a murmur. Haruhi maneuvered through the shelves of books to the door marked "Computer Lab." She made her way inside a two-story circular room with curved tables lining the walls and a computer for each table. The chairs, unlike the normal plastic ones someone might find at a public school, were cushy, high-backed, leather office chairs that were both luxurious and expensive.

The carpet was immaculate and there was an electronic internet directory on every computer that was designed to help students with research and contained endless amounts of useful websites for every subject.

Haruhi bypassed all of this without even blinking and sat down at one of the lower-level computers. She knew how to handle search engines in such a way that she would always find what she was looking for in the least amount of time possible. It made all of the countless research papers she'd written in public school somewhat worthwhile.

She glanced at the first person on the list: Yoshio Otori. Since Kyoya was not the boastful type, she knew there had to be a good reason his father's name was on that list. When she ran it through the search engine, she got her answer.

He was not only the patriarch of the Otori family but also the head of the Otori Group, one of the largest medical industries in Japan. Of course, she already knew this. What she didn't know was how many smaller companies in the country were intertwined with his. It seemed that they issued medical supplies to numerous private practices all over Japan and even shipped things out internationally. They also provided thousands of jobs every year.

Yoshio Otori was undeniably an important man, and Haruhi spent the next forty-five minutes reading and learning about his business ventures, catching up on his appearances in the news, and beginning to understand just how far his reach went. When the first bell rang, Haruhi smiled. She may have only covered one person on her list, but she had covered him extensively. Where her knowledge of the Otori Group's business was concerned, she knew she'd be ready for anything Kyoya's father could throw at her come Saturday.

The rest of the people on the list (whom she'd researched during her lunch period) turned out to be just as intimidating as Yoshio Otori, but Haruhi was never one to let others intimidate her easily. Hayashi Takahiro was the head of Hayashi Enterprises, one of the most powerful corporations in Japan. They had a monopoly on almost all technology undertakings, and anything even slightly breakthrough always came out of their company. The last two people on the list had at first confused her, because the matriarch and heir of the Yukimura Research Facilities were mentioned, but not the actual owner himself.

After a little bit of digging, Haruhi came to realize that this was because the woman, Arisu, made all the real decisions for the group. Her husband carried nothing but the title. Apparently, Arisu had a special place in her heart for her only son Katsu, who was soon going to become the owner of Yukimura Research Facilities. It was obvious that Arisu had molded him to fit her liking, and making a good impression on him was crucial because he was basically his mother's spy in the business world.

If you could get on the good side of Yukimura Katsu, you had a good chance of winning over Arisu. Their research facilities were crucial to companies across the country, because they had a reputation for the best researchers and scientists in the world. If you could manage to hire a Yukimura research team for your business, you pretty much had it made.

Unfortunately, though, it wasn't that easy. There was a huge waiting list that even the richest couldn't buy their way out of. A company could only hire a team for spans of one year, and then they were sent back to the bottom of the list. The only way to bypass the list was to be on the ins with the facility, which was extraordinarily difficult. The only company that had ever managed it was (Haruhi narrowed her eyes when she discovered this) the Grand Tonnerre Group, and that was part of the reason they were so successful; they had an unbelievable research team backing them and instructing them on the next best move at all times.

It was easy to see why Kyoya wanted her to be well acquainted with the people on that list. Before she knew it, though, her lunch hour was over and it was time to face the last half of the school day.

"Haruhi!" two very familiar voices rang out in unison as Haruhi approached the classroom door.

"Hey, guys."

"Where were you during lunch? You weren't in the classroom or the cafeteria."

"Just doing a little research in the library."

The twins glanced at each other and dropped it. Then, out of nowhere,

"Kyoya senpai asked us last Friday what color your dress was," Hikaru said with a bored expression as he leaned up against the wall.

"Really? Why?"

"Beats us. Doesn't seem like something Kyoya senpai would ask. We told him, though. No reason not to." They shrugged.

"I guess. Come on, you guys. We're going to be late."

They walked through the door to math, still chatting idly. During the last few hours of school, it seemed Haruhi couldn't keep the Host Club off of her mind. Finally, the final bell rang. Hikaru and Kaoru grabbed her and ran to Music Room #3.

Apparently, they're more excited than I am, she thought as they burst through the doors. The other four were already there, getting situated to welcome guests.

"Haruhi!" Tamaki exclaimed, standing up to meet her. "It's Monday, and you promised we'd get to see the dress, so come on!" He looked so childishly excited that Haruhi almost felt bad saying,

"I can't put it on now, senpai. There's not enough time before people start showing up. It'll just have to wait until after close."

Tamaki wanted to sulk, but he knew she was right. Soon, the room was abuzz with talk and activity, as well as plenty of giggling and swooning. From the moment he'd arrived, Zuka had the girls captivated. He was immediately dubbed by Renge as the "friendly type," which was hitting the nail on the head. He was outgoing, popular, and well-liked, especially by the Host Club princesses. And, at 5'9" with thick black hair and clear grey eyes, he was undeniably good-looking. A perfect addition to the group.

All in all, it was a normal day. But, if one was to really stop and pay attention just for a moment, they would easily be able to feel the unusual level of excitement shared by the hosts; it was in their movements, their speech, it was all over their faces.

The Host Club was absolutely filled with anticipation.

But the girls were not there to be perceptive. They were there to hear pretty words, and so they missed it. Still, the minute the last guest left, Hikaru and Kaoru dashed into a side room and came out with a white box held shut with a wide blue ribbon and a smaller box on top of it. They handed them to Haruhi with a flourish.

"Your dress, princess." Haruhi rolled her eyes and took the boxes.

"I'll be right back," she said before disappearing behind the changing room door.

She undid the ribbon, lifted the lid, and oh-so-carefully removed the dress that had been neatly folded. She held the fabric in her hands, rubbing it in between her fingers and yet again trying to convince herself that it belonged to her. She sat for a moment just staring at it before finally standing up and slipping her school uniform off. Just as she began to think how the dress would look with her camisole peaking out she noticed the white bando tucked in at the bottom of the box. Trying not to imagine just how potentially embarrassing that was, she chose to be grateful as she replaced her undershirt with it. Then she slipped the dress on and zipped it up. Finally, she opened up the smaller box, pulled out her shoes, and slid her feet into them. Taking one last look in the mirror, she took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

She was met with five eager faces but didn't look at a single one of them. Her gaze was on the man at the Pineapple laptop as she whispered,

"How do I look?" She was met with cheers of 'Kawaii!' from Tamaki, the twins, and Honey, a patented grin from Zuka, and a silent smile from Mori. She only glanced at them with a slightly unsure smile before returning her eyes to Kyoya. He took his time finishing his thought as if determined to show her that he had not been holding his breath on her entrance like the others (he had been, but he refused to let her see that). Finally, after what felt like an eternity and only a work of God had kept the club from surrounding her, Kyoya looked up.

And he was absolutely stricken.

Her dress had been designed specifically for her not just in measurements, but in personality. The fabric was a midnight blue, so dark it would almost look black if not for the way it sparkled in the light. The dress itself covered her so she wouldn't get embarrassed but it also hugged her body, bringing out every hidden curve. It sang elegance in the way it draped to the floor and just slightly flared out around her knees. And it would have been sleeveless, if not for the single strap twisted into a stone brooch on her left shoulder. In a word, it was completely and utterly Haruhi.

She studied him carefully as he took it in, and honestly believed she couldn't have asked for a better reaction. He looked like he'd been left speechless when he first saw her, but reigned it in quickly as his face shifted to something softer, something she'd never seen before on his face and couldn't quite identify. After he took her in for a moment, he uttered one word, just loud enough so she alone could hear it.

"Breathtaking."

Then, Haruhi's face broke into a stunning smile, and that's when the dam broke loose. Tamaki rushed over to give her a hug with Hikaru and Kaoru yelling after him.

"Careful, or you'll wrinkle it!"

"Oh, Haruhi, you're just too cute!" Tamaki said, for once heeding the words of the twins and refraining from wrapping her up in a bone-crushing hug. Honey came skipping up to her with Mori and Zuka right behind.

"Haru-chan, Takashi and Satoshi, and I thought it was really special that you're going to this dinner and so we wanted to give you something." Mori and Satoshi nodded. Before Haruhi could do anything but look surprised, Honey brought a small, long box from behind his back, Mori pulled one more akin to a ring box from his pocket, and Satoshi, a square cardboard box.

Honey opened his first, revealing a delicate bracelet, a silver chain with tiny diamonds spaced evenly around it. Haruhi's eyes widened.

"Senpai, you didn't have to-"

"Don't be silly, Haru-chan! Let me see your hand." Then he took the bracelet out of the box and draped it on her outstretched wrist, fumbling with the clasp a little before it snapped shut.

"It looks great!" he said with a smile. Mori stepped up wordlessly and popped open the top to the second box, revealing matching earrings. They looked almost like stars, gleaming in their case. He looked at her, silently asking for permission, and she nodded. He handed the box to Honey after lifting one earring from where it rested. Then, ever so gently, he slipped it into her ear and did the same with the other. His fingers were ghosts, barely there as he fastened the earrings in place. When he was finished, he took a step back and smiled.

Finally, Satoshi stepped up to her and opened his box. His, too, was a silver chain decorated with tiny leaves that formed half of a gleaming silver laurel. He stepped behind her, draping the necklace gently and closed the clasp.

"There ya go, sis!" he said with a grin, using his favorite nickname for her.

"Thank you, Zuka-kun," she said softly.

"Now you really look like a princess!" Honey said gleefully. She smiled softly, fighting back the hard ball of emotion sticking in her throat as she felt the jewelry in her ear and on her chest and gazed at the bracelet resting on her wrist.

"I don't know how to thank you enough," she said to the three boys standing in front of her.

"Just knowing that you like them is all the thanks we need, right guys?"

"Hm."

"You bet," Zuka said with a thumbs-up.

Then she smiled again, this time more affectionately, letting a small laugh escape.

"Well, now I look the part. That's half the battle, right?" The six boys nodded and took her in, their secret princess.

"Now hold on," Kyoya said suddenly from the table. "Your ensemble isn't complete just yet."

Haruhi glanced over at him as he finally rose from his position at that infernal computer, made his way over to the piano, and lifted the top of the piano bench up. From the small space inside he pulled an elegant black box with the words 'Carolina Herrera' etched carefully on top in shining dark grey. He pushed his slightly slipping glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose and walked back over to Haruhi.

"There will be a slight chill the evening we go. I wanted to make sure you had something to wear that would match your dress, so I asked Hikaru and Kaoru what color it was. It would have been rather tasteless otherwise."

She took the box from him, questions in her eyes. The rest of the club watched with bated breath as she opened up the box to reveal a gorgeous black bolero jacket that perfectly complemented her dress. Haruhi placed the box on the nearest table and ever so gently removed the jacket from where it rested. She knew it had to be some sort of silk just by the way it felt, and when she slipped it on over the dress, it not only matched perfectly, but it was the softest coat she'd ever worn.

"It's silk faille. A light material, but soft and warm. It should do you just fine, especially since we won't be outside for long," Kyoya told her, reading her thoughts again.

"Kyoya..." she breathed, not even wanting to know how much the beautiful jacket had cost him.

"Think of it as my thank you for attending this event with me," he said simply and straightforwardly. Haruhi simply nodded.

The two made eye contact with each other, and a short, intense burst of a moment passed between them. You could almost see the spark and hear the electricity, and the others felt almost as if they were intruding just by witnessing it.

But then, Haruhi's face broke into the smile they all knew and loved so well, and the tension was gone as quickly as it'd come. She went to change out of her dress but begrudgingly stayed in it just a few more minutes longer at the insistent cries of the others.

And as the jubilee of his friends surrounded him and he appreciated seeing Haruhi in a way hardly anyone got to see her, Tamaki realized that all of his friends had provided her with a gift, and he had not. Everyone had brought something for their princess except him.

Determination suddenly flooded through him. He would just have to set that to rights.

Chapter Text

As the week continued, Haruhi tried to pretend she wasn't anxiously waiting for Saturday. She did her best to keep her mind occupied by doing even more things than she already did. Though, it really didn't help that the twins liked to bring it up 24/7- probably because they knew it irritated her -and the rest of the club was just as excited for her as she was.

Kyoya would occasionally bring things up about the dance as they occurred to him, sometimes even texting her, which he'd never done before. Every time he mentioned it, he was as cool and level-headed as ever. But as the number of days shortened and he began talking about it with increasing frequency, if Haruhi hadn't known him better, she would've said he was getting nervous. Needless to say, it would seem neither of them was as detached about the whole thing as they would've liked the world to believe.

There were moments when Haruhi felt as though she was just beginning to forget about it, and then Kyoya would text her and she'd have to start all over again. She found herself having one of those moments at the supermarket on Thursday evening.

She had decided that she was going to try and recreate the ridiculous American sandwich with the same name as the book she was reading for her Classic American Literature class. It would be fun, she figured, and it would help her keep her mind off of everything.

She was trying to decide whether or not she really wanted to deep fry the thing- was there really any other option?- when her phone buzzed.

Perfect, she thought. What does he want now? She pulled her phone out and flipped it open. However, the message on her screen was not the one she had expected.

Haruhi dear, one of the bartenders slipped and broke his wrist. Since my shift was about to end anyway, I offered to take him to the hospital. Seems it's going to be a late night for me- sorry, sweetheart, but I won't be home for dinner tonight. Love, Dad.

Just as she was finished reading the first message, her phone buzzed again.

Now that I think about it, I don't want you to be alone all night. Why don't you invite one of your friends over for dinner, hm? Set your poor dad's mind to rest.

Haruhi sighed. She'd been alone for dinner many a time before- once or twice just in the past month. But she knew exactly what her father was doing and what friend he wanted her to invite. She was very tempted to ignore him and then make up some story later about how Kyoya had been too busy to join her for dinner. Yet, while this was probably true, she knew she wouldn't be able to do it with a clear conscience. It would seem as though this would not be the night for experimenting with sandwiches.

So, sighing, she flipped open her phone, selected Kyoya from the contacts list, and pressed the call button. It was only three rings before she heard,

"Yes?"

"Kyoya, it's me. What are you doing for dinner tonight?"

Haruhi stood over the bubbling pan, watching the curry thicken and get glossy, occasionally stopping to stir it. She'd been careful to make enough so that there would be plenty for her father when he got home. No doubt he'd be starving after the hospital trip. Of course, he'd refuse to eat anything the hospital cafeteria offered, knowing him. Suddenly, there was someone behind her, but she did not start or turn her attention from the food. She merely found his curiosity amusing.

"What are you making?"

Ah, there it was. The question she'd been waiting for since he'd arrived. She'd been surprised that it hadn't been the first thing out of his mouth.

"It's kare raisu- probably not rich person fare."

"Occasionally the chefs prepare something I would assume is similar to it. But no, I've never had it prepared in the traditional way."

"Well, Kyoya, there's a first time for everything." Haruhi had learned long before this to scrap any expectations she had built concerning Kyoya. Yet, somehow she knew that she had been expecting him to argue with her statement. Unsurprisingly, he did not.

"I suppose."

"It's going to be ready soon. Would you like to eat at the kotatsu?"

"That would seem to be the most logical course of action, yes."

"Well, then, we're going to need bowls and a couple of spoons. I've already pulled them out - would you hand me the bowls?" she asked as she pulled the rice off the heat and gave it a stir.

"Cooking is rather fascinating... in its own way," he said simply as he passed her the first bowl.

"I suppose," she replied, letting a mischievous grin creep onto her face. Kyoya let a hum pass his lips, and Haruhi could tell he was amused. She continued working on the food, scooping rice into the first bowl.

"Really, though, Kyoya, you're right. Cooking is fascinating- the little nuances of each recipe and how important it is that you focus carefully to get each little thing right. But that's just when you're starting out. Once you get a better feel for how it works, you can start to improvise a little. All of the recipes my mom gave me had a little bit of her in them. That's why I pored over them when I was younger until I had them memorized by heart- they were the last piece of her I had. Now though, they have some of me in them, too.

"Hopefully, one day, I can give them to my kids and they'll be able to put a little bit of themselves into it. Maybe it's silly of me, but sometimes I like to spend time in the kitchen just to see what sort of new things I can make. Sometimes it's a recipe I've never tried, but usually, I like to see if I can create something original, something that's just... me."

After a moment of not hearing anything, Haruhi looked up from the food. What she saw was Kyoya with that same look he'd had in the car the day when it seemed he was almost studying her- except something was different. It was more intense, more concentrated, more... passionate. It made her breath catch in her chest. Finally, after they held eye contact for what felt like forever, Kyoya spoke.

"It would seem cooking isn't the only fascinating thing here."

"It would seem so."

It felt as though time had frozen with Haruhi's hand on the curry spoon and Kyoya leaning against the counter with that irritating air of nonchalance, though his facial expression had not changed. They held each others' gaze, neither backing down- neither really wanting to - when Haruhi's phone began to buzz and ring on the counter.

The moment was shattered, and Haruhi felt a blush overwhelm her. She saw Kyoya smirk out of the corner of her eye as she scrambled to put the bowl down and grab the phone.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Just checking up on you, dear!"

"I'm fine. Kyoya's here."

"Really? That's wonderful! I'm so glad you asked someone to come over. I worry, about you, you know."

"Yeah, Dad. I know."

"I was almost worried that you wouldn't invite anyone, but I guess I should have a little more faith. Just have patience with me, Haruhi, I'm getting there." This made her smile.

"Yes, you are. I made curry for dinner- I'll put yours in the fridge."

"What would I do without you, Haruhi? Treat your guest well. I'll be home in a few hours, alright?"

"Okay. Sounds good. I'll probably still be doing homework, then. Love you."

"Love you, too, dear! See you soon." And with that, Ranka hung up. Haruhi flipped her phone closed and began scooping rice into the second bowl. The safest route, she had decided, was to pretend that what had taken place just before her dad called never happened. After all, she wasn't even sure what had happened.

She lifted the lid on the curry and an amazing smell drifted up.

That's done, she decided, and took it off the heat, pouring it over each bowl of rice. The colors of the vegetables popped against the canvas of brown sauce and meat. This was definitely one of her favorite recipes because it was so easy but so satisfying.

"It's done, Kyoya. I'll grab a couple of drinks from the fridge." She took the few steps to the fridge and opened it up. What was there to drink? There was milk, some water, a few juice boxes - in other words, not much. She moved a few things around, and at the back found a case of original flavored Ramune. She hardly ever spent money on soda, but she remembered having a taste of it in middle school. The flavor was clean and hard to pin down, but it wasn't too sweet. Just the sort of thing Haruhi liked. She didn't remember buying it, but there was a note on it.

Haruhi, I know you don't like spending money when we don't have to, but you've been working so hard lately. I saw this in the gas station and remembered that you said you liked it a long time ago, and I just couldn't resist picking some up for you.

Love, Dad

She couldn't help but smile at the gesture, and it had been a long time since she'd had any. So, she grabbed two of them from the case and joined Kyoya at the kotatsu. He'd brought the bowls from the kitchen, which she appreciated. She sat down and passed him one of the bottles. He looked it over, turning it in his hand.

"Come on," Haruhi said, trying to hold back laughter. "You can't tell me you've never had Ramune before."

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Rich people," she said, laughing. Then, she moved over so she was next to him instead of across from him.

"They're kind of tough to open at first. I'll show you." She removed the wrapper on top of her bottle and separated the plastic opener from the ring it was attached to. Then she got up on her knees above the bottle, and using both hands, pressed down on the marble at the top of the bottle with the opener. She held that position until the marble popped into the bottle and waited a few more seconds before removing the opener, all the while explaining each step. Kyoya watched attentively, never once flinching or removing his attention from the bottle. When Haruhi was finished, she handed him the second bottle.

"Here, you try." He took it from her, pushing his glasses up. He did everything just as she did, and Haruhi smiled as he pushed the marble in and removed the opener.

"What exactly was the point of that?" he asked when he'd finished.

"It's part of the novelty of the drink, Kyoya. Try some." He obliged, tipping the drink back. After a moment, he said,

"Not as sweet as I expected."

"That's the best part about it," she agreed. She moved back to where her bowl was at the kotatsu, across from Kyoya. They fell into the comfortable silence they knew so well as they ate, only occasionally bringing up topics of conversation. Before they knew it, dinner was over, and Haruhi took the bowls to the sink to be washed. At this point, though, it was only seven in the evening, and the pair found that Kyoya wasn't leaving and Haruhi wasn't asking him to.

They spoke idly, Haruhi thumbing through her textbook and Kyoya perusing the shelves of books in the room. She noticed that he had neither his laptop nor his book, which she appreciated. It was like, for once, she had his full attention.

Time flew, and finally, at 8:30 Kyoya called his driver and went home. Haruhi thanked him for coming over, to which he looked her right in the eyes and replied,

"My pleasure." Something in his voice and the way he was looking at her sent shivers down Haruhi's back. They exchanged murmured goodbyes and Haruhi slowly closed the door as Kyoya made his way down the walk. She leaned up against the door, sliding down until she hit the floor, letting out a long breath. She groaned slightly, her heart still beating uncontrollably in her chest.

Kami-sama, what's wrong with me?

Chapter Text

Friday morning inevitably came and Haruhi was almost beside herself with worry. She kept double-checking her mental list, did a little more research on the important people just to keep herself busy, and all the while chastised herself.

I have to calm down- nothing's ever stressed me out this much. There's got to be a way to fight it, she thought, trying to collect herself in the library. I've got it! Reading usually calms me down.

She pulled out The Count of Monte Cristo and opened it to chapter 106- where she'd left off. The suspense was building to ridiculous levels- the Count's plan was coming together, and still, no one suspected it was Edmond. Valentine was dead, and Edmond still had to win back Mercedes- would he win back Mercedes?

Already absorbed in the story once again, she read voraciously until the bell brought her out of the Count's world.

"Bell ringing already?" she muttered to herself, although she knew that once she started reading something an hour could feel like five minutes. Gathering her belongings, she tried to mentally prepare herself to face the upcoming day.

Usually, she was so attentive in classes and she genuinely enjoyed being there, but today she feared that wouldn't be the case. Today would be one of the very few days she'd be itching to get out of school. She took a deep breath, relishing her last few moments of peace in the library before making her way to her first class: chemistry.

The way her schedule worked this year, she had her last four classes with Hikaru and Kaoru (Japanese history, English, math, and Japanese II). But her first two hours, chemistry and Classic American Literature, were all her own.

She pushed the door open and stepped into the chemistry room. It smelled odd and unpleasant, like harsh chemicals.

Yukimura sensei didn't say anything about an experiment today.

Experiment or not, she knew the smell would give her a headache. It was already starting in the bridge of her nose.

Perfect. As if the day wasn't going to be difficult enough anyway. She took a swig from her water bottle in an attempt to stay hydrated- it was her only defense against the oncoming pain. The sharp ringing of the bell sounded once more, sending shockwaves through her head and resonating.

"Good morning, class," Yukimura Hayato said as he walked into the classroom from the lab.

"I apologize for the smell," he continued. "I'm afraid it was the result of a failed experiment of mine. We'll keep the door open and hopefully, that will do something to help it."

As the class went on, the open door did help the smell dissipate somewhat. By the time the hour ended, Haruhi's headache had subsided, though she had not retained any of the material that had been taught.

Making the trek to the Language Wing of the school helped clear her head even further, and by the time she reached Classic American Literature, she felt almost back to normal. Immediately her mood lifted as she stepped into the classroom. This was her hour; her chance to be completely in her element. This was her favorite class of the day, and she refused to let anything ruin it for her.

She settled into her normal spot at table #3 with her classmates. That was another thing she loved about the room- instead of traditional desks, students were seated in groups of four or five at large round tables to facilitate camaraderie. The walls were a deep blue to encourage a calm atmosphere. She pulled out her heavily bookmarked and highlighted copy of The Count of Monte Cristo along with her notebook.

She loved every single person at her table. It helped that they shared a basic common passion for all things classic literature. There was Kuramoto Hiroto, who was a born philosopher and loved discussing themes and symbols. Sakata Akira was an ambitious, bright, yet innocent first-year girl that sort of reminded Haruhi of herself before she met the Host Club. Lastly, there was Okuma Kenshin, who was exceedingly quiet. Yet, when he spoke, it was always to say something important. As Haruhi was sitting, she tried to tune in on the conversation they'd started.

"Honestly, I think Dantès's time in the Chateau d'If is symbolic of our own time in our own dungeons, and how we can use that time to improve ourselves," Kuramoto said.

"I see where you're going with that- Abbe Faria is like Edmond's mentor, the one person who sticks with him through everything until he died and helped him succeed," Sakata agreed.

"Definitely, and on top of that, it matches the hero's journey," Haruhi said.

"It does, doesn't it?" Sakata said, then she smiled. "How fascinating!"

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Haruhi found herself smiling as well. They spoke for a few more minutes about the book before Aida sensei stepped up to the front of the class. Silence fell immediately, and every eye was focused on the woman. She smiled fondly at them.

"It's a good one, isn't it?" she asked and was met with various yes's.

"I thought you all would like The Count of Monte Cristo. Alexandre Dumas is a rather popular author worldwide. Let's talk about Mercedes." That was all she needed to say. A dozen hands shot up.

An hour later, Haruhi walked out of the class feeling invigorated. She could look at the book from a whole new angle now, which she loved. Before she knew it, the two red-headed vixens she knew so well were on either side of her.

"Ready for tomorrow?" Kaoru asked, grinning.

"Well, I had just managed to put it out of my head before you two showed up. But, yeah. I guess I'm ready as I'll ever be."

"Good," the twins said together. Suddenly, though, their smiles grew softer.

"Really, though Haruhi, you'll knock 'em dead," Hikaru said.

"Yeah, you've got nothing to worry about. Those guys won't know what hit them," Kaoru agreed. Haruhi was touched by their words. Rarely did they say something so sweet that was heartfelt. Soon, though, the mischievous gleam returned to Hikaru's eyes.

"One thing's for certain- in our dress, everybody there is going to know exactly how much of a girl you are!" he whispered, making sure to keep his voice low enough so only Haruhi and Kaoru could hear. A blush spread across Haruhi's cheeks.

"Shut it." It was then that the trio arrived at their next class: Japanese History. It was really a normal day with the topic being samurais and seppuku. Haruhi found her knee bouncing as her teacher spoke, something she couldn't remember doing since the day at the end of middle school when she had been waiting to hear whether or not she'd been awarded the honors scholarship to Ouran. She really did try her best to listen in, but honestly, she wasn't sure she wanted to, anyway.

One rather sickening lecture on traditional disembowelment later, the bell rang. Haruhi practically jumped out of her seat.

"Man, you really are nervous, aren't you?" Hikaru asked.

"What tipped you off?" she grumbled in response.

"You're always packing up after the bell. Today, you were ready to go two minutes early." Hikaru explained. Haruhi felt Kaoru place a hand on her shoulder.

"You really should calm down, Haruhi. After all, worrying won't make the day go by faster."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to notice it does just the opposite." Both twins grinned at her and they began the trek to the cafeteria.

It was only recently that she'd taken to eating lunch in the cafeteria with the rest of the host club. She wasn't quite sure how she'd gotten roped into it- as it was with most things she did with the club. She did, however, know how the conversation started- it had been just a month before the end of her first year.

"Hey, Haru-chan, how come you don't sit with us at lunch?" Honey had said, skipping up to her.

"I don't know. I mean, I always bring my lunch, and the classroom's always quiet."

"Don't you get lonely? You should share meals with your friends!"

"Honey-senpai's right. Besides, the table's not the same without our princess!" Tamaki declared, smothering Haruhi.

"I don't know, senpai. Would you get off of me?" she said in exasperation, fighting to avoid him.

"Kyoya!" Tamaki whined.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Convince her!" Even then, before the whole dinner thing blew up, Tamaki seemed to understand that Kyoya held the vestiges of a connection with Haruhi. Plus, he always had the advantage of being the Shadow King. Kyoya pushed his glasses up and sighed, but did not object.

"Unfortunately for you, Haruhi, while you can choose where to eat lunch, you cannot choose where we eat lunch."

"Hey, that's true," Hikaru began.

"If you don't want to eat in the cafeteria, we could eat in the classroom," Kaoru finished. Haruhi tried to envision how crowded it would be with all 7 of them in there and inwardly cringed.

"Fine," she grumbled, receiving cheers from Honey, Tamaki, Hikaru, and Kaoru, as well as just the tiniest of smiles from Kyoya and Mori.

Arriving at the gilded doors of the cafeteria brought her out of the memory.

"Milady," The twins said, pushing the doors open for her. She rolled her eyes and stepped inside. Ever since the club started eating lunch together on a regular basis, the girls' moe senses increased tenfold.

They would squeal as they watched each member off-duty; though, as soon as Tamaki figured out what was going on, he began to use it to his advantage. In fact, even as he was joining Haruhi, Hikaru, and Kaoru (who were habitually the first at the table), he was working his magic.

"Isn't it lovely out today?" he said in greeting, brushing the hair out of his face in such a way that it caught the light and his eyes sparkled. He was rewarded with several girlish screams behind him.

"I don't know, I thought it was a little warm," Haruhi mumbled through her egg sandwich.

"Haruhi! You have to have a better outlook than that," Tamaki scolded in response. "After all, we are the faces of the Ouran Host Club."

"As if you'd ever let me forget." Soon enough, Zuka was at the table, and finally, Kyoya. That was a little odd, because usually Kyoya was right behind Tamaki, and Zuka arrived last. It was the pattern, and any deviations from it indicated something out of the ordinary had happened.

"Kyoya, I thought you'd never get here!" Tamaki said.

"Just because I'm not here when you expect me does not mean I won't be here," he said matter-of-factly. It was said completely without malice, so the club continued their lunches, forgetting about the small change in routine.

"Hey, Haruhi, did you get the notes on sentence structure types from Mrs. Clarke?"

"I always take notes. The better question would be, why do I let you copy them?"

"An excellent question," they replied with a grin as they accepted her notebook.

"Yeah, well, just make sure you study those, because we have a pop quiz after lunch." She and Zuka laughed as the twins' eyes widened and they alternated between frantically eating and frantically studying.

"I doubt those two will ever learn," Tamaki said fondly, and Haruhi just rolled her eyes as the girls squealed once more. Host Club off-duty (but not really).

"Maybe if you just stopped giving them your notes they would," Kyoya commented offhandedly.

"Yeah, I suppose, but they'll learn quickly enough once they get to college," Haruhi said, almost mischievously. Kyoya just smirked in response. Though their interactions were normal, it was easy to tell that both Kyoya and Haruhi were slightly on edge, even more so around each other. Thankfully, lunch was over quickly, and they all went their separate ways. Hikaru and Kaoru continued to skim over Haruhi's English notebook all the way to the classroom. Zuka made his way to Physical Education, and Tamaki and Kyoya walked in step to the Civics and Sociopolitical Studies classroom.

"So, Kyoya, what kept you today?"

"Since I know you're just going to keep asking until I tell you, I was picking up a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo from the library."

"That classic literature book? But didn't you read it last year?"

"Yes, but I was recently reminded of it and it made me want to read it again."

"I didn't know you had the free time to read for leisure." Kyoya just smiled.

"Until a little while ago, neither did I." Tamaki dropped the subject, but brought up another.

"You seemed a little tense, today. Something bothering you?" The question was completely innocent, as though Tamaki had forgotten what tomorrow was.

That baka knows me too well, Kyoya thought.

"Maybe it's because your crazy ambitions for this club are running me ragged," he replied nonchalantly. Tamaki laughed.

"Whatever you say, Kyoya."

For Haruhi, the rest of the school day was normal. She aced the pop quiz in English, helped a few people with a new math concept, and perfected her grammar. Oddly enough, being with Hikaru and Kaoru helped calm her down, because if they ever noticed her getting antsy, they were right there next to her.

Annoying though they were, she didn't know what she would do without them. They made their way down to the host club, where the theme was Greco-Roman. This incited an argument between Haruhi and Zuka about whether Greek culture or Roman culture had been superior.

"The innovations of Roman law shaped the Western law system as we know it today," Haruhi said definitively.

"Ah, come on, sis! Everything the Romans did, the Greeks did first. The Romans are basically just the world's first documented copy-cats."

"I have to admit, the kid has a point," Hikaru said offhandedly.

"Hikaru!"

"Thank you, Hikaru-senpai!" Zuka said. Kaoru burst out laughing.

"What're you laughing at, Kaoru?" Hikaru asked indignantly.

"It's just so weird hearing somebody call you that," Kaoru managed through fits of laughter.

"Yeah, whatever. It doesn't really suit you either, genius." At this, Kaoru straightened up.

"Hey, I'm more deserving of that title than you, Hikaru."

"Would you guys stop this silly bickering? Customers will be arriving soon!" No sooner had Tamaki said this than the doors of Music Room #3 swung open, and girls flooded in. Immediately, the outfits donned by the club members elicited their well-deserved reaction: absolute adoration. Zuka's was a simple white tunic hanging on one shoulder with a gold elastic tie at the waist, a brown sash going from his shoulder to his waist, and matching gold sandals. Mori's was slightly more elaborate, with a sleeved white tunic and a blue cape pinned with a brown leather pendant at the front. Gold lined the bottom of his tunic as well as the sleeves. Honey's was long-sleeved and had a pink sash, at his request. The collar of his tunic, however, was gold.

Hikaru and Kaoru donned matching outfits, as usual. Both of their tunics were white and had straps rather than sleeves. They both had shawls draped across their shoulders; Hikaru's was green, and Kaoru's was orange. At the bottom of their tunics was gold, which faded gradually and almost imperceptibly into the white at the top.

Kyoya's sleeved tunic was black; the only one that differed from the pattern of white. The cloak that was carefully draped across one shoulder and down past his waist was dark grey, but light enough to stand out against the tunic. The tunic itself was embroidered down the sides with two thin, gold lines bordering a row of diamonds going down the clothing. It was very much indicative of Roman culture, and Haruhi found to her chagrin that she thought he wore it very well.

Tamaki's outfit sang of his princely status. His tunic had straps and his royal purple cloak was draped across his chest and over to his left shoulder, where a gold circular clasp held it firmly in place. Resting on his head was a gleaming golden crown made of gilded laurel leaves, and a showy sword rested in its hilt on his waist.

Haruhi's outfit was unique in that there was no gold. Rather, whenever she moved, her white tunic glittered with silver, as if threads made of the precious metal had been stealthily woven into the cotton. She wore a thick, rich-magenta hooded cloak over the tunic that tied inconspicuously at the front.

All-in-all, each outfit had been carefully designed for its intended host and did its job perfectly. Haruhi served her customers chamomile tea in brand-new cups, and if her hand shook ever so slightly as she did so, the customers didn't notice. They were too enraptured by her costume and how cute she looked.

Kyoya couldn't help but watch her as she smiled and laughed and was just… Haruhi. Being her natural self was so endearing that he wasn't surprised it didn't draw more customers to her. And yet, at the same time, he was infinitely, selfishly grateful. She truly lit up the room when she was happy, and while today he could tell she was slightly anxious, she seemed to be enjoying herself despite it. He felt the barest of smiles on his lips and quickly turned his attention back to his book, lest someone catch him in this rare moment of emotion.

But, what he didn't know was that someone had caught him. In glancing up at just the right moment, none other than the King of the Host Club had seen Kyoya with his guard down, admiring their secret princess. What Tamaki immediately noticed in his friend's gaze was something that blew him away; it was something he'd never seen in Kyoya before.

Suddenly, something clicked and everything that had happened over these past two weeks made perfect sense to him. While it was true that Tamaki was somewhat of an idiot when it came to discerning his own emotions, he was very in tune with the feelings of others, especially when it came to his best friend. And though he wasn't quite sure how he knew, he was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt when he muttered under his breath,

"He's in love with her." The look on his face was a mixture of shock, confusion, and... understanding. After all, who wouldn't love Haruhi? He wasn't sure why, but the new knowledge of what Kyoya truly felt for Haruhi felt like a red-hot poker to the chest. He tried to swallow it because he wanted nothing more than his friends' happiness, but something about all this was just... wrong.

"Tamaki?" one of his guests finally asked.

"Yes, my princess?" he replied automatically, without really thinking about it.

"You were saying something about Venus..." the girl said, trying to prompt him.

"Oh, yes, of course. But why focus on Venus, my dear, when it's clear that you are more beautiful than any goddess?" he said, making a fast recovery. He couldn't forget what he'd seen or felt, and it would demand his attention later, but for now he had guests to attend to. In another section of the room, the twins were taking care of business as usual.

"Oh, these costumes are just darling!" One girl gushed to the twins.

"Yes, they make you look so manly, just like a warrior!" Another agreed.

"We're so glad you like them, ladies," they said together. "Our mother designed them."

"And if you're interested, there's a female version of the line that's going to be released in about a month, just in time for summer," Kyoya said with his patented smile.

"Oh, I'll place an order!"

"Yes, me, too!" Hikaru and Kaoru watched with annoyance as their customers left to go buy the costumes.

"I don't know how he does it," Hikaru said.

"Well, at least he keeps the club going with all the money he gets off of those girls," Kaoru replied with a sigh. This particular venture had been an expensive one; there were majestic stone busts and vases upon vases of honeysuckle, tulips, hyacinths, violets, and larkspur. The light scent of flowers mingled with the barest traces of fine wine, though there was none in the room to be found. Swaths of bright red cloth lined the walls, and bowls of fruit sat on pedestals in strategically beautiful spots around the room and it was pleasantly warm. In other words, it was an utterly Hellenistic paradise, and the girls loved every bit of it.

"My dear, you are lovelier than every flower in this room," Tamaki murmured to his next adoring fan.

"Oh, Tamaki…"

In his own little corner, Honey was enjoying a cup of chamomile tea and a small square of fruity sweet bread- the Roman equivalent of cake.

"Wow, Takashi, this is better than I expected! Maybe we should have this more often," Honey said, tucking into his cake once more as Mori nodded and his customers screamed, 'Kawaii!'

As the day wound down, Kyoya recorded, girls trickled out, and the club switched out of their outfits. Haruhi began cleaning, and eventually, the others joined her.

"I hate to say it," she said as she swept. "But this was actually pretty fun."

"What are these words falling upon my ears?" Haruhi… enjoyed herself?" Tamaki asked with as much drama and gusto as he could muster- though if that wasn't as much as usual, no one noticed.

"It's just an interesting time period, no matter what culture you study." Haruhi conceded.

"Rome's the best!" Zuka called out suddenly from the other side of the room.

"In your dreams, Zuka-kun!" Haruhi replied without breaking the swishing pattern of her broom.

"I wonder what the next theme will be," Honey mused whilst packing a few of the cakes into his bag. He fully intended on bringing a few to the house chef so he could make them.

"That's a good question, Honey senpai," Tamaki said. "A topic for later speculation, I suppose. Have a good weekend, everyone, and I'll see you on Monday." Then, he was suddenly out of the room as though he'd been whisked away purely by the strength of his imaginative whims.

"I think Tama-chan has the right idea," Honey said, zipping up his backpack and yawning slightly. "Going home after a long week sounds just right, huh Takashi?"

"Mm," Mori hummed in agreement.

"Great! C'mon, Satoshi!"

"Right behind you, Mitsukuni. See you guys on Monday," Zuka said as he slung his backpack onto his shoulder. Just before he went out the door, he turned and gave a slight wave. The door swung shut behind him.

"Nice kid," Hikaru commented as he grabbed his bag.

"Yeah, and the complete opposite of Mori-senpai," Kaoru replied with a slight laugh.

"Hang in there, Haruhi," Hikaru said as he passed.

"You'll be just fine," Kaoru added with a smile.

"Thanks, guys," Haruhi said. "Stay out of trouble for a few days, will you?"

"No promises!" They shouted together as they left, earning a laugh from her as she put the last of the cookies in the cabinet over the sink. The room was quiet and finally perfectly still, and for a moment, Haruhi was at peace. For a moment, she forgot there was one more person left in the room.

With careful precision, she placed the teacups in their cupboard and started to pick up the various cleaning supplies when she heard rustling behind her. Smiling, she asked without turning around,

"Forget something?" It certainly wouldn't be the first time. But instead of the affirmation she was waiting for, she was met with a cool, yet slightly amused voice.

"It's hard to forget something when I haven't left yet."

"Kyoya!" she said, jumping slightly and inwardly cursing herself for it.

"You seem a little on the jumpy side today, Haruhi. Is everything alright?" he asked her casually, holding back a smile. Granted, he was a little wound-up himself, but it was rare to see Haruhi get so worked up over something.

"Fine," she mumbled, crossing her arms.

"Oh, good. We wouldn't want anything to affect that excellent hosting of yours, would we?" he said without looking up from his book or breaking the flow of his pen across the page. Haruhi's eyes narrowed.

He's toying with me! she realized with indignation. She uncrossed her arms and balled her fists at her sides.

"You know what, senpai," she said suddenly, using the honorific on purpose, "everything's not fine. It's you stupid rich people and your stupid high-stakes dinners causing me so much unnecessary stress and-" It was then that she noticed, mid-rant, that Kyoya had managed to put his book down and close the distance between them. She'd been paying so much attention to venting the day's frustrations that she hadn't noticed.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd think this whole affair was getting the best of you."

"Maybe I'm nervous, Kyoya! I can't believe you're not. I'm a commoner, remember? I've never done anything like this before," she said, still just as fed up but slightly quieter. Leaning up against the wall, she looked away from him as if ashamed that she'd admitted to so much.

"Oh, Haruhi," Kyoya said, almost chidingly. He tilted her chin up, getting her to look at him.

"What is it going to take for you to learn to have as much faith in you as I do?" Haruhi's eyes widened. This was not the response she'd been expecting. After a moment of stunned silence, Kyoya shook his head and sighed.

"You're hopeless." Then, as if caught up in an impulse, he leaned forward so that their noses were almost touching and placed his hands against the wall on either side of her. They stayed that way for the briefest moment, his eyes closed and hers open, wide with curiosity. There was a warmth radiating around them, and Haruhi felt significantly colder when Kyoya finally pulled away. He paused and looked at her with such electricity that she felt it all the way down her spine.

"Goodbye, Haruhi," he said, just a little softer than usual, and an almost imperceptible pang crept its way into his voice.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow at 6 o'clock sharp." She gave him a tiny nod.

"Goodbye, Kyoya." She watched as he collected his bag and walked out of the music room.

"What just happened?" she managed to ask the empty air. She was met with the reply of running and shouting out in the hallway.

"I know I left it here, Chika, just give me a second!"

"Ugh, you're always leaving your stuff all over the place, Satoshi!" The doors flew open, and Zuka rushed in with Chika Haninozuka right behind him.

"Oh, hey, senpai," Zuka said in greeting to Haruhi. "I didn't think anyone would still be in here."

"He doesn't think at all," Chika interjected. Zuka looked at him in mock hurt.

"Ah, come on, Chika. I said I was sorry!" Then, he turned to Haruhi with a sheepish grin.

"I left my textbook in here." Haruhi felt a smile split her face. After everything that had happened today, that was more like it.

Chapter Text

Haruhi woke up on April 18th to a bright, promising morning. There were only a few clouds in the sky, and the air was crisp and clear. When she walked into the kitchen to find something for breakfast, she found her father already there, squinting at a box of rice. There were eggs strewn on the counter and a lonely jar of tsukemono vegetables that she had prepared earlier in the year sitting unopened.

"Dad?" she asked as she stepped into the room.

"Oh, Haruhi, dear! I didn't think you'd be up for another half hour," he said, placing the box down on the counter.

"What're you doing?" she asked, picking up the box.

"Well, you can't start the day without a good breakfast, can you? I thought I'd make something special." Ranka ran a hand through his hair. Haruhi smiled.

"Sounds great. How about I help?"

"I think that would be wonderful," he replied, returning the smile. Haruhi turned to the fridge, pulling out Tupperware and a package of two fish fillets.
"I'll start on the eggs if you work on the fish and the rice. We can reheat the leftover miso later."

"Sounds like a plan, kiddo." For the next twenty minutes, Haruhi and her father worked in tandem, a meal steadily unfolding before them. When they were finished, they each had two bowls: in one, the reheated miso soup. In the other, a bowl of hot steamed rice and a fish fillet ladled with pickled vegetables.

The two sat across from each other at the kotatsu and listened to the morning radio as they ate.

"Haruhi, what are your plans for today- before the dinner, that is?" Ranka asked, breaking the silence. Haruhi paused a moment before responding,

"Honestly, Dad, I don't really know. I'm just going to try and stay busy."

"Hm, I see. Well, then, I don't suppose you wouldn't mind spending the day with your old man, would you?" Haruhi tried to hide a smile and failed completely.

"What did you have in mind?"

Just under an hour later, Haruhi and her father sat side by side in the sauna at the Spa LaQua.

"Isn't this relaxing?" Ranka said as he seemed to sink deeper and deeper into his seat.

"Yeah. This was a good idea," Haruhi murmured in reply, eyes closed. "Thanks, Dad."

"My pleasure, dear. After all, this is your big day. You have to be at your best." There was a moment of comfortable silence. Haruhi was pleasantly surprised to discover that even the looming threat of the dinner in just a few hours couldn't shake the peace she felt at that moment.

They spent a few more hours there, just relaxing and idly chatting, spending time in each part of the spa. When she left, Haruhi felt calmer than she had in weeks. Plus, she couldn't remember the last time she truly had quality time with her father- both of their lives had just gotten so busy so quickly this past year. It was nice to have shared this with him.

As they got into the car, a mischievous grin spread across Ranka's face. Haruhi narrowed her eyes.

"What are you planning, Dad?" He just started up the engine and cheered,

"To the salon!" This earned a good-natured groan from Haruhi, and fifteen minutes later, her head was under the flow of hot water and her hair was getting shampooed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been to a salon, and this absolute pampering was an almost guilty pleasure.

The stylist behind her kept up good-natured chatter with Haruhi. She asked her about her school, and when Haruhi mentioned her ambitions to be a lawyer, she asked her about those studies as well. At first, it was a little odd, but as the conversation continued, Haruhi found herself growing more and more comfortable. They spoke as if they'd known each other for years.

"So, you want the works, Dad?" the stylist- Akiko- asked Ranka.

"Of course! Only the best for my girl."

"So, hon," she turned to Haruhi, popping her gum, "whatcha getting your hair done for today?" She began toying with the wet hair.

"Well, tonight, I'm going to the National Business Exposition Dinner," Haruhi said, slowly, hesitantly. Saying it out loud still felt odd to her, like it wasn't quite real.

"No kidding?"

"Yeah. To be honest, I still can't really believe it myself."

"Hey, kid, I believe it."

"What makes you say that?"

"A pretty girl like you? Sure, it's no wonder you caught the eye of a nice guy." Haruhi felt a pink blush spread across her cheeks.

"Well, thank you."

"Nothing but the truth. So, what are you thinking? What kinds of styles do you like? You'll want something formal, I'm sure."

"To be honest, Akiko, I didn't give it much thought."

"Didn't give it much thought? Hon, a good hairstyle says everything. Maybe some extensions, a nice updo?" Haruhi thought about this for a moment.

"You know what, I don't want extensions today. Today, I just want to be me." She saw Akiko grin behind her in the mirror.

"An excellent choice." Then, in an instant, Akiko was whirring around her with scissors and spray bottles, and styling gels. Her controlled hurricane rivaled Hikaru and Kaoru's, which was rather impressive.

When she was finished, and placed a final bobby pin in her hair, Haruhi felt as though she was looking into the face of another girl.

"Akiko… you're amazing."

"Ah, thanks, but I had a pretty cool girl to work with. Now, kiddo, that style's gonna look good with a nice headband if you have it, but if not, it'll stand alone just fine."

"Seriously, how did you even get it to look like this?" Haruhi asked, patting her hair gently.

"That's why they pay me," she replied simply, smiling. At this moment, Ranka glimpsed up from his magazine, and his jaw dropped.

"Oh, Haruhi, you're just the cutest! When did you get so grown up? Oh, my little girl…" He went on like that for a little while. Akiko grinned, and Haruhi just rolled her eyes. The pair were just preparing to leave, thanking Akiko repeatedly, when another stylist approached them.

"What's all this commotion?" Her voice was delicate and soft, and her small smile was warm.

"Hiya, Rin! We're just celebrating a major hair victory," Akiko said.

"Well, the celebration is well-deserved. She looks great."

"Thanks! Guys, this is my big sister, Rin. Rin, Haruhi Fujioka- one super cool chick." Haruhi bowed slightly.

"It's very nice to meet you," she said. Rin smiled and bowed back.

"The pleasure is mine."

"Doesn't she look great? She'll be the belle of the ball at the business dinner," Akiko said proudly.

"Oh, you're attending tonight's dinner? Yasu won't stop talking about it."

"Yasu?" Haruhi asked. Akiko nodded.

"She's the owner of the salon. Never been to the Exposition herself, but she sure acts like it, the way she talks. It's the only reason Rin and I know about it."

"And it's the reason we know exactly just how prestigious it is. May I see your hands, Miss Fujioka?" Haruhi nodded, offering up both. Rin took them in her own, examining them.

"Hm, if you're going to be the belle of the ball, then you'll need a proper manicure."

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to-"

"Don't be silly, I insist." Haruhi glanced back at her father, who just nodded. She turned back to Rin and smiled.

"Well, thank you. Thank you very much!"

"My pleasure."

Seeming to intuitively understand Haruhi's love for the simplistic, Rin used a simple nude pink polish that complemented her short nails but did not draw attention to them. When she was finished, Haruhi truly felt like a princess.

"Really, I can't thank you guys enough," she said to the sisters as she and her father prepared to leave.

"Hey, you just knock all those big corporate leaders off their feet for us, okay?" Akiko said gently. Haruhi nodded slowly, her smile growing.

"We hope to see you again," Rin said.

"You can count on that," Ranka said. "Why, I think I may just get my hair done sometime." Haruhi just smiled.

"Come on, Dad. Isn't it lunchtime?"

"Right you are, dear!" They waved one final time to the sisters as they left the salon. After they'd gone down the walk a ways, Haruhi spoke.

"Thanks for this, Dad. This day has been really nice." Ranka smiled.

"Well, it's not every day that you attend the National Business Exposition Dinner, is it?"

They were back at the apartment soon, and they shortly fell into a normal Saturday routine. Haruhi stuck two Maruchan shrimp Instant Lunches in the microwave while Ranka turned on the TV and began folding clothes. When they finished lunch, it was right around one in the afternoon- just five hours until Kyoya would be there.

Of course, Ranka insisted on doing all the hands-on chores (We wouldn't want to ruin those lovely nails, would we?), so what she would normally be doing to keep herself busy was suddenly not an option. She'd finished all her homework on Friday night in an attempt to get her mind off Saturday, and now she regretted that. She was left with absolutely nothing-

That was when she noticed The Count of Monte Cristo peeking out of her bag. She smiled. The bookmark stuck out right at chapter 113. There were only three chapters left- certainly not enough to last her five hours, but there was always the packet of discussion questions Aida sensei had given her to complete once she'd finished the book.

Her smile grew wider as she snatched the book off the shelf, prepared a cup of tea, and curled up on her favorite spot on the couch. She felt a calm wash over her as she began to read. At first, seeing her nails distracted her every time she went to turn a page; they didn't even look like hers. It was kind of funny, but as the story moved along, her nails became invisible.

She didn't notice it, but with each new line of the story that her eyes scanned along, her knuckles turned white with her grip as her heart clenched with apprehension. She'd watched Edmond's character transform into the Count, and as he carried out his plans, she couldn't help but be reminded of her first impression of one Otori Kyoya. Every move the Count of Monte Cristo made was cold and calculated, and even the actions that benefitted others had some merit for the Count himself.

There was that pesky word again. Merit. Haruhi had been certain that she understood its implications in relation to Kyoya, but lately, she found that hadn't been the case. Because lately, Kyoya seemed to have thrown his traditional claims about self-benefit out the window. After all, there was really no other way she could explain his recent actions.

Although, it seemed as though the Count didn't have quite the same idea.

She couldn't shake this idea as Danglars, the man currently being tortured by the Count, grew closer and closer to death and the book grew closer and closer to the end. Suddenly, she figured out what was making her so uncomfortable.

She didn't want Danglers to die.

Which, really, was ridiculous. He was the bad guy, the one who'd taken everything from Edmond Dantes out of sheer greed, the one who actually turned Edmond into the Count of Monte Cristo. It made sense that the Count would kill him. One stolen life for another.

And, yet… something about this did not feel right. She'd had this feeling since chapter 111 when the Count found out about Villefort's death. Somewhere down the line, just as Abbe Faria had predicted so early in the novel, Edmond's mission had transformed from justified to terrifying.

And, although she wouldn't admit it to herself, part of the reason she was so scared was because the Count of Monte Cristo did remind her so much of Kyoya. Silly though it was, she didn't want a character who so strongly resembled the cool host to commit murder. No matter what Danglars had done, watching him slowly starve to death was just too much, and Haruhi was about to put the book down. Finally, though, the Count made his appearance.

Haruhi let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as she read the words,

"Do you repent?" After all, those words could have only come from one man. He emerged from the shadows, forgave Danglars of the crimes he had committed against him, and revealed his true identity- Edmond Dantes. Then, simple as that, Danglars was freed, and Haruhi loved Alexandre Dumas all the more for writing it that way.

She'd have to discuss these uncanny similarities with Kuramoto- leaving out any names, of course. He'd eat up a conversation about real-world/classical literature comparisons. She smiled to think of it.

Soon after Danglars's repentance, the chapter promptly came to an end. Haruhi placed her marker back in the ridiculously large book and glanced at the clock. She fought the urge to sigh; it was still only 1:45.

What now? She really wanted to take a break from reading. It just didn't seem right to finish such a good book so quickly, especially after all the time she'd spent reading it. There were always the discussion questions, but she didn't dare open them for fear of coming across a question that spoiled the end.

"Haruhi! Come look at what I found," Ranka called out. Haruhi gladly stood up and cracked her back. Whatever it was her father wanted, she knew it would occupy some of the time she didn't know what to do with.

"What is it, Dad?"

"It's an old box with your name on it. I found it in the closet," he said, pushing it towards her with his foot. Haruhi glanced around the living room, which was starting to sparkle. That was a sure sign that her father was as nervous about this as she was. Whenever he got really fidgety, he went into a massive cleaning fit.

She glanced down at the box. It was stained in places, sort of creased, and there were spots where tape had been removed and then replaced. Curious, she picked it up and took it to her bedroom. Her new bedspread starkly contrasted the decomposing box that sat on it.

"So, what's in it?" Ranka shouted from the other room.

"Don't know yet, I haven't opened it," Haruhi replied as she hunted for a pair of scissors. Finally spotting them on the top of her bookshelf, she snagged them and rushed back to the box with an interest uncharacteristic of her personality.

With a single swipe, the box was open. Eagerly, she unfolded the top, and what she saw took her breath away.

"Dad, do we still have that old video player?" she said, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"Of course, dear. It's on top of the bookshelf. Why?" Without replying, Haruhi rushed out of the room, grabbed the video player, and hooked it up to the TV.

"Haruhi, what are you-?" Before he had a chance to finish, she was gone again, snatching the videotape she'd found out of the box. Within seconds, she was back in the living room, pushing the video into the player, and turning out the lights. Ranka gave up on asking questions and sat next to Haruhi on the sofa. He looked over at her, perched on the edge of her seat and crossing her fingers on both hands- something he hadn't seen her do for 10 years.

Half a minute later, the player made a whirring noise, and a slightly grainy picture popped up on the screen. It was of a little girl with long brown hair and a brand-new, bright white backpack on her back.

"Okay, Haruhi, tell me what you're doing right now!" The voice was warm, excited, and one Haruhi knew well. As the pair watched, both felt tears spring to their eyes.

"I'm getting ready for school."

"For your first day of preschool, no less! I'm so proud of you already, Haruhi. I know you're going to be absolutely amazing." This earned a genuine smile from the tiny girl.

"Thanks, Mom."

"Oh, Haruhi, are you ready for breakfast?" came another voice off-screen.

"Yeah, Dad."

"Ooh, smells good," Kotoko said, shifting the camera to focus on a much younger Ranka.

"Well, it should. You taught me how to make it, my love."

"Let's see if you made it right, then," she laughed. "Say goodbye, Haruhi!" Haruhi paused in gathering the bowls and spoons for breakfast to wave at the camera, a big smile on her face.

"Bye!"

The image cut to the kitchen, but this time Kotoko was in the footage rather than holding the camera, a slightly older Haruhi standing beside her.

"Okay, darling, I know you've always wanted to join me in the kitchen. Now that you're four, I think you're old enough," Kotoko said, her voice warm.

"What are we going to make, Mommy?"

"Today, you are going to try your hand at miso soup."

"You hear that, Dad? I'm going to make soup just like Mommy!" Haruhi said excitedly, looking at the camera.

"I heard loud and clear, kiddo. I wouldn't be surprised if you're as natural in the kitchen as your mother." At this, Haruhi laughed and turned back to Kotoko, who was starting to pull ingredients out of the fridge.

"Well, I'll leave you two to your cooking lesson. Have fun!"

One last time, the picture on the television switched to Haruhi, about the same age as the last clip, sitting on her bed with a book on her lap. She seemed completely unaware that she was being filmed. It appeared as though she got caught up in her books even back then.

"Did you want to say something to her?" Ranka whispered off-camera.

"No, let's leave her be. She looks so peaceful," Kotoko replied. Slowly, the camera turned to the right to focus on the young woman leaning against the doorframe and contentedly watching her daughter.

"You are so beautiful," Ranka murmured. Kotoko smiled at him.

"You're supposed to be filming her," she said, not really chastising him.

"No. I'm supposed to be filming us. Our family. And I couldn't be happier doing it." Then, the camera swung back to Haruhi, who was coming to the end of her picture book.

"We're filming this, Ryoji, but do you ever think of how lucky we are to be living it?"

"Every moment, Kotoko." There was silence for a minute, and then Haruhi closed her book.

"Oh, hi, Mom. Hi, Dad," she said when she noticed them. After a pause, she frowned.

"Wait a minute, how long have you been standing there?" In response, Ranka and Kotoko dissolved into laughter.

"Just long enough to appreciate you, my dear," Kotoko said, her voice full of merriment. Soon after that, the image clicked off entirely, leaving the television screen blue. The video player whirred down, and the tape popped out of the machine.

The living room was completely silent for a minute as Haruhi and Ranka tried to process what they just watched. Because they were such short clips, neither had remembered that the video had ever been taken, and it had been buried in a very unassuming box. All the other videos they had were taken after Kotoko was diagnosed with her illness, and she hardly looked like herself in them. Finally, Haruhi spoke.

"That was Mom."

With those three simple words, the floodgates burst. Ranka began to cry, and Haruhi (despite her best efforts) felt tears streaming down her cheeks as well. The woman in those clips had been her mother, the one she remembered and loved so well. The one she had known before she was slowly stolen by a hopeless illness.

Both of them were completely overwhelmed by joy and a renewed sense of grief, as though the video's end had taken Kotoko from them all over again. Ranka took Haruhi in his arms and began to gently stroke her hair.

"You look just like her," he managed through his sobs, and she buried herself even deeper in his embrace. They sat that way for a long time, just letting their emotions wash over them, father and daughter. What they had lost so long ago was great, but together, perhaps it was a little easier to handle.

By the time 4:30 rolled around, Haruhi couldn't wait a minute longer. She'd done her best to kill time, doing various menial things, but there was no longer any doubt about it; she just had to read the last chapter of that infernal book.

So, resumed her place on the couch, picked up the book, and began reading. Now that the Count had released Danglars, there were only a few loose ends left to tie up. It was clear now- and had been for quite some time- that the love of Mercedes and Edmond was not to be, for neither of them were the people they had been twenty years before.

As the story wound to a close, Haruhi was delighted to discover what she had hoped to be true all along- Valentine was alive, and the Count had reunited her with Maximilian. But Edmond was still so alone, so miserable, and he deserved more than that. Just like Kyoya, he was trying to be strong. He was so busy putting up his façade that he didn't realize it was no longer necessary.

So, when Haydee finally declared her love for Edmond, it was all Haruhi could do not to cheer out loud. Haydee was exactly who he needed. She was willful and beautiful and definitely had a mind of her own, but she loved him so much that she would follow him anywhere. After years of being in each other's company, they knew each other well.

It was perfect, as perfect as any relationship could ever hope to be. In that element, it reminded Haruhi of her parents. Someday, she knew she wanted to have that. The love that her parents shared and that she read about in her most beloved books. She wanted to be as completely happy in the company of one person as her parents had been with each other.

A few paragraphs after Haydee's declaration of love, there was a final letter from the Count left to Maximilian and Valentine. Somehow, Haruhi knew these would be the last words of the book, and suddenly she was paralyzed. She couldn't bring herself to read them, knowing it would be the end of a 1600-page journey she'd undergone with these cherished characters. It seemed as though Alexandre Dumas had done his job too well all those years ago.

Haruhi quickly closed the book without bothering to mark the page. The clock only read 4:37, but since she knew that mastering the makeup look the twins taught her would take a couple of tries, she decided to start getting ready.

She sat down in front of the mirror in the bathroom. With only sheer determination and the guidelines left to her by Hikaru and Kaoru, she began to apply the makeup.

Half an hour and several failed attempts later, frustration overtook her.

"Dad!"

"Yes, dear?" he replied from the other room.

"Can you help me with this stupid makeup? I can't get it to look like when Hikaru and Kaoru did it." Within seconds, Ranka was in the bathroom next to his daughter. She waved her hand towards a piece of paper.

"They gave me that design and told me how to apply it, but I just can't get it right." Ranka took one look at the paper and turned back to Haruhi.

"Don't you worry, honey. Daddy will take care of this." In the span of fifteen minutes, he created a look that perfectly mirrored the ones the Hitachiin twins designed. And, to Haruhi's slight annoyance, on the first try. As she looked at herself, she grumbled,

"I feel as though I should be a little worried that my dad's better at putting makeup on than I am."

"Don't be silly, all it takes is practice. Besides, you're better than me at cooking any old day."

"Well, thanks for taking care of it for me. I never could've done this on my own. I guess the guys put a little too much faith in me this time."

"Hey, who can blame them? After all, you're the champion at just about everything else," Ranka said, smiling.

"And," he added, "you look absolutely beautiful." Haruhi felt a light blush rise to her cheeks.

"Thanks, Dad," she muttered.

"I guess you've still got a little time to kill, don't you? Come play a game of cards with me and I'll turn on the evening news." Haruhi smiled.

"Sounds like a plan."

It hit 5:25 when they sat down to play, and even though it had felt like a long few hours, Haruhi still had to marvel at how quickly the event had approached. She was by no means unprepared, but it felt unreal that the object of her thoughts for these past few weeks was now just minutes away from beginning.

At 5:40, she got up to get into her dress, jacket, and shoes, and at 5:50, the doorbell rang. Funnily, she wasn't apprehensive, she was just confused.

He's ten minutes early. That is so unlike Kyoya. It was unlike him to be late, too. It was undeniable that Kyoya Ootori preferred punctuality, though with the host club he didn't always get it. Haruhi smoothed her hair and dress and approached the door.

Here goes nothing. Taking one final breath, she swung the door open to reveal-

"Tamaki senpai?"

Chapter Text

The boy standing before Haruhi was definitely a third-year member of the host club, but he was not the one she had been expecting.

"Hello, Haruhi. I don't want to intrude, so I won't take up too much of your time." He was smiling warmly at her, and his voice was the calm one that he used to charm so many adults. It was unlike him, and upon closer inspection, Haruhi saw a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I only have a couple of minutes, senpai, but come in." The irritation that would normally be dominating her voice was temporarily subdued by her surprise.

"Thank you," Tamaki said and stepped inside the room.

"Is Kyoya-kun here?" Ranka called from somewhere in the apartment.

"No, Dad. Just a friend dropping by."

"Alright, just so long as they know you're leaving soon."

"They do," Haruhi said, exasperation sneaking its way into the statement.

"So, what's up, senpai?" she asked, turning to Tamaki.

"I was just thinking, Haruhi-"

"A dangerous pastime," she interrupted under her breath.

"I was thinking about the day you showed us your dress," he continued, brushing his bangs out of his eyes in a very Tamaki-like fashion.

"And it occurred to me that every one of our members graciously presented you with a gift- except yours truly.

"I simply couldn't have that! After all, what kind of a fath-" He stopped haltingly, then continued as though it had never happened.

"What kind of a friend would I be if I didn't provide you with something for such a special occasion?"

"Senpai, you don't have to-" Haruhi attempted to cut off his ramblings and was extremely unsuccessful.

"Coming up with the perfect gift was not easy, but I think I've done it. Here," he said and handed her a white box.

"Open it," he prompted at her hesitation.

She looked at him skeptically but removed the top of the box nonetheless. She wasn't sure how he'd done it, but he had indeed managed to find the one gift that she needed. It was a beautiful, white Alice-style headband, studded on the right side with a cluster of tiny white decorative roses. It matched her dress and her hairstyle perfectly.

"Senpai," she breathed.

"Ah, no need to thank me. I was merely fulfilling my duty as your friend," Tamaki said, restored to his wistful and dramatic self.

"I'll help you put it on if you like," he added. Haruhi nodded and handed the band to him. Gingerly, so as not to muss her hair, he placed it on the top of her head, a little behind her brow.

"There. Now that you have your crown, you are officially a princess." In that moment, they locked eyes, and what Haruhi saw shocked her. There was friendliness, warmth, melancholy, and strangely enough, understanding. Something passed between them in that small moment, and suddenly their relationship was vitally changed. In a moment of unusual spontaneity, Haruhi threw her arms around Tamaki.

"Thank you, senpai. This means a lot." He returned the hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"My pleasure." Then, he let go and held her at arm's length.

"It's all you and Kyoya, now. Show them what you're made of, Haruhi. We've all seen it in the club, and that's why we can say they'll love you. They have to... because we do." This was the closest Tamaki Suoh ever came to a true confession.

It earned a gentle, yet pleased smile from Haruhi.

"Take care, and I'll see you on Monday!" he said, quickly switching from determined to exuberant.

"Don't do anything stupid over the weekend," she replied in a deadpan, but her teasing eyes gave her away.

"No promises!" Tamaki shouted as he ran out the door and down the steps. Haruhi smiled as she closed the door, and brought her hand up to the headband. Of all the surprises that could've been thrown her way that evening, that was undeniably a pleasant one.

Her eyes flickered to the clock, which dutifully read 5:57. The three minutes that followed were arguably the longest of Haruhi's life, but at 6 o'clock sharp, the doorbell rang again.

The worry left her completely as she answered the door. This time, the right person was waiting for her.

"Kyoya," she said, all at once flooded with relief. This whole crazy affair would be over soon. His arrival marked the beginning of the end. In a smart two-piece black suit and tie, white collared shirt, and black dress shoes, he certainly attracted the right kind of attention. The midnight blue handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket that perfectly matched the color of Haruhi's dress didn't escape her notice, and she smiled at the gesture.

"Good evening, Haruhi. May I come in?" He was yet again taken aback by her striking beauty but was better equipped to hide it the second time around.

"Of course. I'm ready to go when you are."

"I figured you would be." He was holding something, but it was hard to tell what it was. She decided not to ask.

"Dad, Kyoya's here," Haruhi said, grabbing her handbag (which the twins selected for her to match her outfit). "We'll be leaving soon." Ranka emerged from his bedroom.

"I thought I heard that pesky doorbell. How are you, Kyoya-kun? Lovely to see you!"

"I'm wonderful. Thank you again for allowing me to take Haruhi this evening."

"Anytime. I'm so glad to see her getting out of the house."

"Dad-"

"Come on, Haruhi. This is an event we won't want to be late to." Kyoya said, offering her his arm. She took it, linking her arm through his as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Bye, Dad."

"Bye, dear! Have fun, and try to be back before midnight," Ranka said, shooing them out the door. The pair made their way down to the car, but before the chauffeur could open the door for either of them, Kyoya opened the container he was holding. Inside was a simple but lovely white rose corsage. Coincidentally, it matched the headband, and this fact occurred fleetingly to Haruhi as she looked at it.

"Oh, Kyoya, you-"

"Haruhi, it's customary. Humor me." She gave him a look but didn't say anything else as he slipped it on her wrist. He then nodded at the chauffeur, who opened the door. Haruhi slipped inside, and Kyoya was right behind her. This car was similar to the one he'd taken her home in when this whole mess started, but it actually was a limo.

Upon entry, Haruhi discovered that the car was empty of anyone else except the driver, and she was suddenly panicked and relieved at the same time. She hadn't realized that Kyoya's parents may have been waiting in the car, and that thought brought momentary apprehension. That apprehension was almost immediately dissolved when she saw nothing but unfilled seats.

"My parents are taking a separate car," Kyoya said, never ceasing to amaze Haruhi with how well he knew her.

"Why's that?"

"I had a date to pick up, and my parents aren't really ones for detours if they can be avoided. Therefore, I opted to take a separate car so as to sidestep unnecessary tensions."

Always planning ahead, Haruhi thought. They were silent after that, and while the car ride itself was smooth, the air was thick with things that went unsaid. A few minutes went by, and she leaned her head against the window to watch as the city flew before her, just starting to glow in the onset of twilight.

It's really beautiful out there. I've never noticed it before.

"So, Kyoya," she said softly, "where exactly are we going?"

"The Imperial Hotel," he replied, not missing a beat. At least that was a place she had heard of, but then again, there weren't many residents of Tokyo who hadn't heard of the Imperial Hotel. It was grand, beautiful, extravagant, and nothing less than what Haruhi had expected for such a prestigious event.

She glanced over at Kyoya and confirmed what she already believed to be true. His posture was perfect, his glasses were angled to catch the light, and he wasn't paying her the slightest bit of attention.

He had his mask on again.

She knew that it was merely because he was as nervous as she was, and he had used the one thing he possessed to try and hide it. Despite knowing that Haruhi could see right through it, he chose to put on airs anyway. She bit back a sigh. Sometimes, he was utterly impossible.

Promptly at 6:15, the car pulled up to the front of the most magnificent, as well as the largest, hotel Haruhi had ever seen. It wasn't the one designed by Frank Lloyd Wright she'd read about in her Japanese history book, it was instead the current main building. Towering at 17 stories, it was sleek, impressive, and intimidating- much like the people who were sure to be inside.

The chauffeur opened first Kyoya's door, and then hers. She stepped out next to Kyoya, and the first thing she noticed was that it was cold- more so than she expected. She drew the coat around her, grateful that the dinner was inside.

They made their way through the doors, and the hotel lobby took Haruhi's breath away. It was absolutely magnificent, a sprawling open room with majestic columns spaced evenly throughout. The light cast a golden hue over the room, and the massive bouquet in front of the staircase was nothing short of beautiful.

"The dinner is in the Les Saisons Dining Hall, one of the 18 eateries contained in this building."

"Rich people," Haruhi muttered, not really meaning it. She slowed her pace unconsciously, trying to take everything in. Kyoya placed a hand on the small of her back and she glanced at him before speeding up once more. He was right, after all. There was no time to delay, not when there was so much to do and so much more to see.

They stepped into the elevator- as grandiose as the rest of it, inevitably- and it whisked them up to the main floor, where Les Saisons was located. They strode arm-in-arm past the second lobby (second lobby, for Pete's sake) and to the doors of the dining hall. Waiting for them there were none other than Mr. and Mrs. Otori.

"Aren't your brothers coming?" Haruhi whispered to him as they approached. Kyoya hummed a 'no.'

"It would be unnecessary, as they both attended until the end of their third year, just as I will." Haruhi just nodded and tried to swallow her nerves.

"Kyoya. We thought you would never get here," Yoshio said. Haruhi felt a renewed wave of fury just by looking at Kyoya's father. The Ouran Fair had only been a few months ago, and to her, Yoshio Otori was still just the man who held the club she loved in such contempt that he berated Kyoya for being a part of it. However, she smiled, breathed, and turned her gaze to Kyoya's mother- whom she'd never met before.

"Your guest looks lovely, Kyoya," she said. "Why don't you introduce us?"

"Very well. Haruhi, this is my mother. Mother, this is Fujioka Haruhi- a Class A second year at Ouran." Haruhi bowed, and Mrs. Otori replied with a respectful nod of the head.

"What a pleasure to meet you. Kyoya must think highly of you to bring you here." Haruhi smiled gently.

"The pleasure is mine, Otori-sama." This earned a small smile from Kyoya's mother.

"Well, now that the introductions are out of the way, let's get inside," Yoshio said promptly, and the four of them entered the dining hall.

"Entering now, the Otori Group," a well-dressed man spoke into a microphone upon their arrival. His words caught the attention of many idol people in the room who tried to get a glance at the famed CEO of the Otori zaibatsu.

Surprisingly, Haruhi felt a calm wash over her as she took the scene in. Thanks to the twins, she looked great and she knew how to act. She knew the people she'd studied like the back of her hand. After weeks of preparation, there was no doubt about it.

She was ready.

"Yoshio-san!" a man called jovially as he approached Yoshio. Haruhi recognized him almost instantly as Ouran's chairman and Tamaki's father.

"Ah, Yuzuru. How are Suoh Enterprises?"

"Looking up for the start of the fiscal year, as usual."

"Good, good." The two broke off, walking towards a table and talking about the financial state of their companies. Mrs. Otori was gone shortly after, mentioning something about seeing an old friend. Haruhi was relatively uncertain of what came next, but true to form, Kyoya read her mind.

"For around the next twenty minutes, most of what will be taking place is socializing. The majority of the people here have known each other for years and despite being competitors, have become tentative friends.

"Then, there will be a short word from the Minister of Economy, Trade, and Industry. Though he doesn't help put the exposition together, he oversees the proceedings. After that, dinner will be served. That's when the real discussions begin. Leaders make business deals with each other, map out contracts, and try to form the alliances that will most benefit them. So for now, all you have to worry about is not making a bad impression."

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Haruhi said, more to herself than Kyoya.

"Otori! I haven't seen you since last year." The boy who was approaching them looked familiar to Haruhi, although why she couldn't remember.

"Hayashi, it's good to see you again," Kyoya said with a smile. Hayashi! That's right, he's the son of Hayashi Enterprises' CEO! I knew I'd seen him before, she thought.

"I'll bet this upcoming year brings with it the good relations between our father's companies that we've seen in the past," Hayashi continued.

"One can only hope," Kyoya agreed.

"And who, may I ask, is the lovely girl on your arm, Otori?"

Haruhi had to bite back a reply, remembering Miyomoto hakase's instructions to allow Kyoya to handle introductions.

"This is Fujioka Haruhi."

"She attends Ouran Academy, I presume." That was it. Haruhi couldn't stand being spoken about like she wasn't there.

"That's correct," she said before Kyoya could reply. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hayashi-san." Hayashi looked her up and down as though he was impressed.

"Let me assure you, Miss Fujioka, the pleasure is all mine." He nodded at Kyoya, then moved on.

"I should've known," Kyoya said, sighing slightly, though it was devoid of any irritation.

"Should've known what, Kyoya?"

"That all the preparation in the world couldn't have stopped you from being Haruhi."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Far from it- I just think it was foolish of me to be worried about it. You are you, and nothing, not me, not training, not one person in this room could change that." Though Haruhi was confused as to what exactly he meant by that, it was nice to know that Kyoya was relaxing a little. She realized with a smile that she felt herself beginning to loosen up as well. This whole thing wasn't going to be so difficult after all. She just had to remember the things hakase taught her and she'd be fine. This night would be over before she knew it, so all there was left to do was try and enjoy it. The more she thought about it, the more incredible the whole thing seemed.

"Thank you, Kyoya."

"What for?"

"For inviting me to this. I know you just needed a girl to take and we've known each other for a while but... I've never done anything like this before. It's just kind of mind-blowing to be a part of something in a world I've never really seen. I didn't give it a lot of thought before because I was so focused on being prepared for it, but now that I'm actually here and experiencing it, I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be.

"So, thank you. Thank you for giving me the chance to see something I never would have seen otherwise." Kyoya just listened to her until she was finished, then nudged his sliding glasses up his nose.

"You're welcome. Really, though, it should be me who is thanking you. There is no doubt in my mind that this evening would have been near unbearable in anyone else's company. There's no other girl who I would want to be standing next to me right now."

He said everything so matter-of-factly that Haruhi found herself believing him, and she couldn't stop a blush from rising to her cheeks. They spoke to a few other people, but the conversations didn't go much past introductions and empty exchanges about companies and weather.

Shortly, the same man who had been announcing each arrival stood in the center of the room and spoke into the microphone.

"Excuse me, everyone. May I have your attention, please?" An immediate hush fell over the room, almost as if someone had flicked a switch to extinguish sound.

"Thank you," the man continued. "It is my honor to welcome you to the 70th National Business Exposition Dinner and to introduce to you the man behind it all. Please help me welcome Yoichi Miyazawa, Japan's Minister of Economy, Trade, and Industry." There was a pause as the room was filled with polite applause and a smartly dressed man accepted the microphone from the MC.

"70 years ago, seven of the most powerful business leaders in Japan met to discuss plans for the upcoming fiscal year. They wanted to see if they couldn't get a head start by working together. That first meeting was the beginning of what has become one of the most important business conferences of the year in Japan and has since expanded to bring together over 15 corporations for the greater good of our country's financial state. It is my honor to be able to see all of today's great leaders working together towards a better tomorrow. On another note, The Imperial Hotel has been gracious in housing us all these years, which we must not forget. I've been told that your meal will be coming out shortly, so I invite you to take a seat and keep working towards success."

After another round of applause, the crowd obliged, sitting with various business partners and friends. Kyoya led Haruhi over to where Yoshio and Yuzuru were sitting with Mrs. Otori and another woman. The table had been preset with water glasses and various accouterments and was only missing the food itself.

As promised, just a few minutes after the minister was finished, waiters started pouring in. One of them, crisply dressed, eventually came to where Haruhi was sitting.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. What would you like to drink this evening?" He took the various orders promptly, two for wine and four for tea.

"And are there any food allergies at this table?" He asked. Everyone shook their heads in reply.

"The chef has prepared Les Saisons's house specialty for you this evening, the truffle pastry. Your salads, along with your drinks, will be out shortly."

"Excellent," Yuzuru said, dismissing the waiter. Everyone tried to engage in some form of idle chatter, but it did no good in masking the tension that encompassed the room. It was easy to tell that everyone was waiting to get to the real conversations but were polite enough to wait until the food had been served.

They didn't have to wait long, however. Soon after drink orders were taken, the waiters flocked in once more, this time with trays. The drinks arrived at the table quickly, and their waiter remembered exactly which drink went to whom. Then, a second waiter joined him, his tray piled with platters.

Silently and swiftly, he placed garden salads down before all of them. As soon as the waiters had dispersed and everyone had been served, a quiet din rose up in the room. Haruhi, along with the two other women at the table, listened and watched intently as the discussion unfolded. Topics transitioned fluidly, debates resulted in interesting solutions, and plans were mapped out. When the salads were replaced with the main course, and then dessert, it seemed as though Haruhi was the only one to take note of it. She tried not to let show how blown away she was by the cuisine.

However, it appeared as though the food was the least important part of the dinner, which she had already supposed but decided it was still comical to witness. When forty-five minutes had passed and the last bowl of creme brulee had been whisked away, it occurred to her that she had not been addressed once in the hour she'd been at the event. This both irritated and relieved her.

She glanced at Kyoya, who was frowning in concentration and nodding at something Suoh had said.

"Yes, of course," Yoshio replied, though Haruhi was unsure what Yuzuru had said. A small, unfounded panic welled up in her. Of course, the one moment she had not heard what was said, they would ask her opinion on it. But the fear was unfounded, and the topic was as easily dismissed as all the others had been. She had to bite back a sigh of relief.

Listening with a new determination, she leaned in just slightly to engage herself more. She noted briefly that the two other women at the table were having their own hushed conversation, being careful not to disturb the men.

Well, I'm not having any of that. I want to listen to what's important. That's why I spent so long researching, after all, she decided. Unbeknownst to her, at the table directly opposite theirs, there was a 19-year-old heir who had heard of her social status- despite the number of people attending, an interesting word always got around quickly. Fascinated, he had spent a good portion of the evening watching her movements intently and with a vicious curiosity. So far, he gathered, there was no reason to be either put off or impressed by her actions.

However, it appeared as though she was going to speak up soon, so he'd have to remain attentive. Suddenly, an unwelcome voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Katsu? Son, I asked you a question." Yukimura Katsu turned his head and answered as though he wasn't at all bothered by the interruption.

"My apologies, Father. What was it that you were saying?"

"This company will be yours soon. You know I expect great things from you. I trust in the future, you will be a little more attentive to the dealings of the Research Facilities."

"Yes, Father, of course." Satisfied, Yukimura Masaki nodded and asked the question again, and Katsu answered accordingly. The whole thing was so dull, and it was just the same thing he'd been doing for years. The politics, the discussions, the building of relationships- it got old.

His father didn't seem to understand that the company basically was his, but then again, he'd spare the man his pride. His attention turned back to the young woman- Fujioka, he was certain that was her name- who seemed on the verge of doing something interesting.

Even from where he was, he could tell she was beautiful. She was the Otori kid's date, though, so that wasn't really surprising.

"What do you think of the Fujioka girl, Katsu?" His mother, Arisu, asked him, reading his mind.

"She's certainly beautiful."

"But?"

"She hasn't done a thing to catch my attention." His mother hummed in agreement.

"I'd keep an eye on her. She could give us that window into the Otori group we've been waiting for."

"Ah, but is the Otori group worth looking into?"

"You've said yourself that they could be a powerful ally."

"True. I suppose tonight is the perfect time for them to prove themselves," Katsu said. Arisu nodded, and Katsu turned his attention back to the matters being discussed at his table.

Just a few feet away, the conversation at Haruhi's table was getting much more interesting.

"Ah, but Yoshio, why not invest in Britain? They're at the top of the economic charts, after all. GDP growth is looking up."

"Why should I, when I've got such good standing with American corporations?"

"Of course you have good standing with America. America's an easy place to start overseas branches. The real profit comes from investment, and mark my words, Britain is a solid investment."

"Interesting. Are you sure?" Yuzuru laughed slightly.

"Obviously, or I wouldn't be telling you about it." Yoshio nodded and hummed thoughtfully.

"I see. I wonder what Miss Fujioka has to say about that." He then turned his gaze to Haruhi, who was, despite herself, surprised that she was suddenly being paid so much attention.

"Do you think Britain is indeed the best place for a financial investment?" he asked her, carefully, methodically. Haruhi had to keep from biting her lip- she knew this was a test. She knew what the correct answer was, but she was wary of replying with it. If she gave the reply she truly thought was the best, there was a chance someone would come out insulted. However, her answer was vital, she could sense that. And, as much as she did not like Yoshio Otori, he was Kyoya's father and he was undoubtedly an important figure. Taking a deep breath, she replied with calm precision,

"No, sir."

Yoshio smirked, and Yuzuru's eyes widened.

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Haruhi took a moment to compose her thoughts, and as she began to try and explain what she already understood, the confidence in her voice grew.

"Well, you see, Britain may be towards the top of the predicted GDP growth charts right now, but in that respect it's basically in the same state as America. It's one of the more influential countries in the world, and so staking a financial claim there would be akin to placing money in what Americans refer to as 'blue chip stocks,' which I'm sure you are all familiar with." Everyone at the table simply nodded, an indication for her to continue.

"Because of this, an investor has to look more closely at their options. In keeping with the stock analogy, no one wanted to invest in Apple Inc. in 1976. However, it was the people who took the risk and invested in the company while it was on the ground floor who ended up reaping the most profit. My point is, there's a country that is much like the Apple Inc. of 1976, and the people who notice it are the business leaders who will have the most foreign success.

"India is the last place most financial strategists would look to for investments. However, based on their current economic trends, one can stipulate that their economic growth over the next three years will see a radical increase. Therefore, though the total GDP of India will still pale in comparison to that of Great Britain, the leap in the economy will bring in more profit and stability to a foreign company than that of a 'blue chip stock.'"

The table was completely silent for a moment before Yoshio smiled and said simply,

"You see, Yuzuru? The girl knows exactly what she's talking about." Yuzuru smiled, realizing what the Otori patriarch was up to, and replied,

"Yes, I suppose she does." Haruhi let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and she glanced across the table to see an approving smile on Mrs. Otori's face. It seemed as though all that research had paid off. She hadn't dared look at Kyoya once when she was speaking, but if she had, she would have seen him watching her with such ferocity that it surprised even him. Even as he was amazed by the elegance, grace, & unbelievable poise with which she handled such an unfamiliar situation, he found himself agreeing with everything she said.

It was clear she'd won over everyone at the table with her personality- even his father seemed to have warmed up to her, incredibly. With every nod of the head, concise statement, and demonstration of clearheadedness, Kyoya found himself falling harder and harder for her, as if he had never known what it was to truly love Haruhi Fujioka.

When she made her final and strongest point, he knew she'd convinced every person at the table that India was currently the best country in which to make a financial stake. When he saw the light in her eyes and the ill-disguised look of satisfaction on her face, he was overcome by an all-consuming need. He cleared his throat, voice guttural.

"Haruhi," he said, almost dangerously low, "let's step out for a moment." His words were overly flat, as though he was trying extremely hard to keep emotion out of his voice. He saw the confusion flash in her eyes, but he didn't care. She would understand soon enough.

"Of course, Kyoya," she said. By this point, he had earned her trust, and even if it didn't make sense to her, she would follow. Then, Kyoya switched over to host mode- it proved to be more difficult than usual, but he managed and turned to the others at the table.

"If you would very graciously excuse Haruhi and I, we have a few matters to discuss but will return as soon as we can." It was easy to tell that his father was on to him, but before he could make an objection, Kyoya stood, gently took Haruhi's arm, and whisked her out of the room.

Katsu watched them go, and he smiled- he'd been right, as usual. It seemed as though this Fujioka girl was something special, despite her commoner status. She'd given her reply to Otori's question almost exactly as he would have; therefore, there was no doubt about it- he would have to keep his eyes on her.

Outside the dining hall, Haruhi spoke in low tones,

"Kyoya, what's going on? Is something wrong?" He shook his head.

"No, just... follow me." She could tell just by his voice that he was already much more relaxed, and so she just nodded. He laced his fingers through hers and led her to a help desk, where he whispered something to the clerk. The clerk just nodded and handed him a key. Kyoya then went straight for the elevator, which they took up to the fifth floor. Never slowing down or stopping, the minute the doors opened up, he took her down a long hallway. At the end was a door. He inserted the key card and pushed the door open.

"Welcome to the Music Room."

Chapter Text

"What do you mean, you don't think we should go?" Kaoru asked incredulously. Every host club member (excluding Zuka, who was at a martial arts match with Chika) was currently standing in Tamaki's room. They'd all responded to his demand for an emergency meeting. Tamaki spoke in reply to Kaoru,

"Exactly what I said, gentlemen. I think those two will have enough to worry about this evening without our interference." He stated this as though it were the most natural thing in the world. This time, it was Hikaru who responded:

"Um, who are you and what have you done with the boss?"

"He's probably been replaced by his evil twin," Kaoru said darkly. The two began to advance on the cowering blonde.

"It's funny since he's always calling us the doppelgangers." Their eyes glinted evilly. Tamaki whimpered, and just as the twins were about to pounce, Honey spoke.

"Hika-chan, Kao-chan, wait! Maybe we should let Tama-chan explain first."

"Come on, Honey-senpai, you can't tell me that you don't think he's acting completely weird," Hikaru said, turning around.

"Yeah. It's like he's out of his element or something," Kaoru agreed.

"I'm not 'out of my element,' as you put it. I'm just being sensible, that's all," Tamaki said, standing up straight and dusting himself off.

"Tama-chan, I think what Hika-chan and Kao-chan are trying to say is that this is really unlike you." Tamaki laughed, nervousness leaking through. He ran his hand through his hair.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, senpai."

"Tamaki," Mori said finally. There was a pause, and Tamaki sighed.

"Have any of you ever stopped to think why Kyoya may have asked Haruhi to this dinner?" Everyone was silent in response.

"That's what I thought. Maybe you haven't really wanted to, maybe it just hasn't occurred to you. But Kyoya never does anything without a good reason- that's something I've come to understand. And the reason he's asked Haruhi to join him this evening is a good one, indeed."

"Care to tell us what that is, boss?" Hikaru asked, placing a hand on his hip. What followed was an uncomfortable silence, as though the rest of them already had an idea of what the answer was and simply didn't dare to vocalize it. Tamaki placed his hand on the back of his head nervously. He opened his mouth to speak when Kaoru interrupted him to state the exact words that Tamaki had uttered just a day before. He sounded as if he'd known it for quite some time.

"He's in love with her."

There were about 3 seconds of silence before Hikaru exploded.

"In love with her? Kaoru, do you even hear what you're saying? I mean, even if he was, which is completely-"

"True," Tamaki interrupted. Mirth crept into his voice as he continued, "In hindsight, it's really not that surprising."

"Not surprising? Tono, what's wrong with you? Why am I the only one who sees how ridiculous this is? I mean, come on-"

"Hika, you need to calm down," Kaoru said, irritation seeping into his voice. "I know this isn't what you wanted, but that doesn't mean you get to live in denial." Hikaru stopped shouting, but it was clear he was still furious.

"I'm not in denial. I just can't believe you guys are okay with this."

"Why wouldn't we be? After all, if Haru-chan's happy, then we should be happy, too," Honey said gently, hugging Usa-chan. A visible shudder went through Hikaru as he fought his temper. He tried to speak, but it came out more as a splutter.

"Unbelievable."

"Hikaru!" Tamaki finally snapped. The boy's head jerked up in surprise as he looked at Tamaki.

"You can't be so selfish. None of us can. You act as if you're the only one who harbored some sort of feelings for her. In our own ways, every single one of us loves Haruhi Fujioka." At Tamaki's words, Hikaru's eyes widened further. The others signaled their assent with hums and nods.

"But," Tamaki continued, his eyes softening as he smiled, "as members of the elite Ouran Host Club, it is our duty to make sure every girl who walks through our doors is happy. I dare say Haruhi deserves happiness more than any other girl who's come to the Third Music Room."

Hikaru lowered his head, clenching and unclenching his fists. Kaoru stepped up to his brother a placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Hika…"

"No, I get it. The boss is right," he said softly, resigned. Then, slowly, he looked up and continued.

"What I don't get is how exactly you figured all this out. Yesterday, you wouldn't have been saying any of this."

Tamaki actually laughed at this.

"That's true. In fact, yesterday, I had some trouble of my own straightening this all out."

"Well… how did you?" Kaoru asked.

"Let's just say if there's one thing I've always known about Kyoya, it's that he's far from emotionless." This launched him back in time, to the memory of what exactly took place Friday night.

It was around 6 pm, and Tamaki was still reeling from the discovery he'd made only a few hours ago. He'd declined to come down for dinner and had done nothing but lay on his bed, trying to put together a puzzle that he was still missing multiple pieces to.

Kyoya loved Haruhi. This was an irrefutable fact. Tamaki knew love when he saw it, and though it had looked almost out-of-place on his best friend's face, a small part of him was glad. Glad because for a short while, he'd been afraid that Kyoya would get too focused on his goals to allow something like love to distract him.

How wrong he'd been, and for that he was grateful. Yet… there was something he had yet to come to terms with. Why should he feel gravely ill at the thought of Kyoya and Haruhi- his two closest friends- pursuing a relationship together?

After all, it wasn't as if he was anything more than a father figure to her, right? And as such, it was completely understandable that he'd object to a character like Kasanoda. He wouldn't want his daughter to associate romantically with a gang member. But Kyoya? Not only was he a completely reliable, responsible person, but he was also Tamaki's best friend. What was the issue?

Could it be…?

No. He wouldn't even let himself finish that thought. It was an impossibility. It was ludicrous. Nevertheless, Kasanoda's words haunted him:

"So, you aren't really her father, then?"

No, it seemed he wasn't. He'd come to accept that and reconcile it with the notion that he was like a father to his precious Haruhi.

Yet, that really didn't feel right, either. It was like when he was trying to play a piece on the piano that he'd just learned from memory. Occasionally, he would hit a note that didn't necessarily sound bad, it just wasn't right, and he would know it without a doubt.

That was exactly how this felt. He'd hit a sour note, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what the right one was. Finally, out of pure frustration, he stood up from his bed and swore, hitting the wall solidly with his fist.

He backed away from it, breathing heavily. Usually, such displays of anger were uncharacteristic of him, but this frustration- this problem- was unlike any he'd ever faced before. He swiped the framed picture of Haruhi and himself off of his nightstand.

"What have you done to me?" he demanded of the Haruhi in the photo. She looked slightly miffed at having her picture taken, and at Tamaki's arm slung around her shoulder. It had been back in Karuizawa, right at the beginning of summer vacation.

Looking at it, looking at her, Tamaki felt something swell in his chest that he couldn't ignore any longer. He swallowed hard, threw on his jacket, and raced out to the car. As reluctant as he was to call on him for help with this particular problem, Tamaki also realized that he was the only one left who could aid him in sorting out this ridiculous mess.

"To the Otori Estate, please," he said brusquely to the chauffeur, who nodded as the car sped off into the night.

It was a short ride, and he knew it well, but it had never felt longer than it did that day. Finally, the car pulled up to the brightly lit mansion that Tamaki had been to so many times before. He took a deep breath, walked up to the doors, and rang the bell.

One of the housemaids opened the door, recognized him immediately, and escorted him to Kyoya's bedroom. Tamaki knocked, and when he heard Kyoya's weary voice on the other side telling him to enter, he realized this was going to be much more difficult than he had originally intended.

"Hello, Kyoya," he said gently. Kyoya immediately heard the mellowness in Tamaki's voice, and it took some of the edge off of his irritation at being interrupted.

"Tamaki. What are you doing here so late? I know we don't have school in the morning but some of us have work to do." Though his words were harsh, his voice was devoid of any true aggravation. Instead, he merely sounded tired.

"Well, you see, I'm afraid I have a problem that I believe only you can help me with."

"I highly doubt that-"

"It's about Haruhi."

At this, Kyoya's eyes widened, and he pushed his glasses up but didn't dare face his friend. Keeping his voice even, he said,

"So, you've figured it out, then?"

"Actually, no. That's why I came to you." This time, Kyoya did turn around, raising an eyebrow. Tamaki shrugged.

"I've seen the way you look at her, Kyoya. Don't think I can't spot love when I see it," his voice was heavy, brought down by the weight of his words. Kyoya sighed. Honestly, he wasn't surprised by Tamaki's words in the slightest. He'd come to terms with his own emotions. However, Tamaki hadn't had the same luxury of time. Kyoya had known for a long time that this moment would come, and he hated himself for not being able to prepare for it more thoroughly. He looked at the mask of calm that Tamaki was wearing, and shook his head.

"Well, come on then. Out with it. You're not doing yourself any favors by holding it in." There was a pause, and Tamaki swore softly. Then he began to speak, his voice gradually crescendoing to a clamor,

"I don't get it, Kyoya. I don't get why every time I think of you two together I die a little. I don't get why I can't just be happy with being a father figure to her. I don't understand why she's the most important person to me, why her happiness is more important to me than my own. I don't know why every time the twins get near her, I want to explode. And for Kami's sake, I don't know how I fell in love with that amazing, insufferable girl!"

His bellowing voice echoed around the room after he was finished, and it was only in that split second of silence that those crucial words he had not meant to say registered fully in his brain. It was in the single moment of unbridled emotion that finally, he'd consciously admitted to something that he'd refused to for two years. He supposed, in a kind of daze, that he'd known all along.

"Well," Kyoya said, voice barely above a whisper, "I suppose you don't need my help after all." For once, he didn't bother to hide the pain that he felt for both himself and his closest friend. Things were going to get complicated, and these next few months were going to be difficult, and it was essentially his fault. He put a hand to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, sighing.

"Kyoya-" Tamaki began. Kyoya promptly interrupted,

"No. This is my fault. I should've told you sooner. The moment I knew how I felt about her, I should've told you. Forget that, I should have never asked her to that stupid dinner in the first place, because even if you didn't understand how you felt yet, I did. I saw it. I may not have wanted to admit it to myself, but I knew this was going to hurt you eventually, and I asked her anyway." Kyoya's words began to spiral beyond his control, and Tamaki just smiled gently and cut him off.

"Kyoya," he paused. "Mon ami. When I first moved to Japan, you were my only friend. Even though it took you a while to - shall we say, "come out of your shell" - I always knew, just as I still do, that I could trust you. You, the Host Club - that's my family. I can see how happy she makes you, even if she doesn't see it quite yet. And… I can see what you do to her, too. There is no one better for either of you than each other, so don't screw this one up, my friend. You won't find another girl like her."

Kyoya's frustration was overwhelmed by surprise, and he felt his eyes well up, much to his irritation. Immediately, his hand flew up and he pressed two fingers to his eyes to stop the process. How did this idiot always know exactly what to say? He deserved a much better friendship than Kyoya could ever give him, yet here he was, giving his blessing to a relationship that tore him apart.

"Tamaki…"

"Ah, I don't want to hear another word about it," Tamaki said with a smile. It was clear he was still hurting, but he was already starting to come back to his old self. He considered threatening him not to hurt Haruhi, but he knew that Kyoya would never do anything of the sort. Besides, the twins would take much more pleasure out of doing so than Tamaki would.

Suddenly, as he was idling at the door, he was struck by a brilliant idea.

"Hey, Kyoya? What kind of corsage are you going to get her?" His friend looked at him like that was the most bizarre thing he could have asked, but he answered,

"I've placed an order for one with white roses. Why?"

"Because I've just figured out what gift I'm going to bring to the princess."

That was the end of his story, and Tamaki paused as if still lost in the memory. Hikaru's face was a mixture of shock, hurt, and acceptance. The rest of the club looked completely taken aback as well at what Tamaki had just shared.

"So… what'd you get her, Tama-chan?" Honey finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Her crown," Tamaki said simply with a smile. Honey nodded, satisfied. Hikaru took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

"If he ever does anything to hurt her-" Hikaru began.

"-we'll be there in a second," Kaoru finished. Tamaki smiled.

"If he hurts her," Mori said suddenly, "you're going to have to wait in line." This was the first time he'd spoken other than to say Tamaki's name, and it got a smile out of both of the twins.

"So, gentlemen, what are we going to do with our evening? The night's still young, after all," Tamaki said, spreading his arms open.

"You know, we have done a lot of things over the years. But there's one thing we haven't done," Kaoru mused.

"What could we have possibly not done?" Tamaki asked in exasperation.

"Stay in," the brothers chimed together.

"Got any good movies, boss?" Hikaru said, walking in step with his brother towards the door.

"That sounds like it could be fun, right, Takashi?"

"Mm."

"Don't worry about dinner, Tama-chan. Takashi and I will order it- it's on us," Honey said happily as he and his cousin followed the Hitachiins out the door. Hikaru could be heard out in the hall,

"Show us the way, Shima!" Tamaki looked for a moment as if he was going to say something, but thought better of it. He just smiled and shrugged. Then, he realized something.

"Hey, you guys," he shouted after them, distressed, "wait for me!"

He took off after them, shouting and bouncing and trying to get a word in edgewise- though, of course, the twins wouldn't let him. And as they ran around, arguing about movies and snacks and what to eat for dinner, Tamaki had never felt freer. It was going to be difficult, watching Kyoya and Haruhi together. But it was going to be fun, too.

Because, above all else, they were family. And he wasn't going to let anything take that away from them.

Chapter Text

"Oh, Kyoya…"

"It's quite beautiful, isn't it?"

"It reminds me of ours, except-"

"-quieter." Haruhi laughed lightly.

"Almost too quiet." There was a pause as Haruhi took in the Music Room, sitting on one of the chairs. It was much smaller than Music Room #3, but it was breathtaking, still. She supposed that it was more likely the company that was breathtaking, rather than the room. Kyoya had taken her here in such a rush and had still given no specific indication as to why.

But Haruhi knew exactly why she wanted to be here, and strangely enough, she wasn't scared. After what she'd just done, after everything they'd done together, it didn't feel scary anymore. Just… inevitable. Then, into the silence, Kyoya spoke.

"Hikaru and Kaoru did a lovely job, didn't they?" She blushed, but trying to cover it up, replied,

"You think it's just Hikaru and Kaoru?"

"On the contrary. Honey, Mori, and Zuka's additions were very nice as well," he said, unable to hide the smirk on his face. He watched the indignance on her face culminate before it dissolved in an instant, and she burst into laughter.

"Kyoya Otori, you're impossible!" He smiled at her mirth, and his voice was low as he came towards her.

"Oh, is that what you think?" She began to recover from her laughter.

"That is most definitely what I think," she said, smile still wide on her face.

"Well, then, I'll tell you what I think," Kyoya replied, taking her hand and bringing it up so she stood next to him. He leaned in dangerously close to her, so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. But then, he moved suddenly, his nose tracing like a ghost up her cheek until he reached her ear.

"I think you are the most intelligent, driven, outspoken woman I've ever met. I think that as much as your stubbornness gets you into trouble, it is one of the most amusing and satisfying things about you. And I do believe I'm beginning to need you more than I ever needed that infernal company." He drew back and looked her in the eyes with such a fire that Haruhi felt the breath go out of her. If there had ever been a doubt about what exactly it was the youngest Otori son felt for her, it vanished in that moment.

"I think you, Haruhi Fujioka, are the most beautiful girl in the world, and to hell with any fool who thinks otherwise."

He'd barely finished when she pushed herself up on her tiptoes and her lips met his. Her arms were almost immediately around his neck and his simultaneously wrapped around her waist.

Neither of them needed to hold back. They knew- had known for some time- what they felt for each other, though they'd each had troubles of their own in accepting it.

Despite how passionate that first kiss was, it remained sweet and almost tentative, as though the two were still trying to get a feel for each other. Kyoya didn't want to rush a single, perfect moment of this. She was just as he always thought she would be, and he was overwhelmed by her. Haruhi was completely lost in her own observations: how her hand felt tangled up in his hair, how his lips were just barely chapped but still somehow so soft, and how absolutely perfect his arms felt settled around her waist, as though they had been fashioned to fit together.

As much as the two craved one another, eventually, they found themselves breaking away to breathe. Funnily, they'd spent so much time reading each other and had gotten so good at it that there was no need to speak. Haruhi's face shifted several times in the seconds that followed; first, she looked surprised, then relieved, before she finally let out a breathy laugh and settled into happiness.

Kyoya just smiled at her, something on his face she'd never seen before, and it delighted her.

"Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way, what would you like to do next?" he asked her simply. Haruhi almost couldn't believe that that kiss had just happened, but Kyoya managed to make her laugh despite her wonder. She placed a hand on his cheek gently and kissed him once more, quickly, before she pulled away.

"Oh, I don't know. I have a book to go home and finish." Kyoya knew immediately what she was talking about.

"I'm surprised you haven't finished it already." Haruhi blushed.

"I'm on the last page."

"Ah, I see. Reluctant to give it up?"

"I know I can always read it again, but there's just something special and kind of sad about finishing a book for the first time."

"I agree completely. But let me assure you, reading it for the second time is just as satisfying in its own right," he murmured. Haruhi's face was taken over by surprise.

"You read it again?"

"Let's just say a lovely girl convinced me to revisit it." Haruhi grinned.

"That's pretty sentimental of you."

"You have me there. You seem to do strange things to me." His tone of voice made her breath catch, but she pushed past it.

"It seems that the feeling is mutual." This banter was the most natural thing between them, and their words were filled with unspoken passions. After a moment, Kyoya said,

"Would you like to go back downstairs and continue to impress my father's colleagues?"

"I'm not sure I have anything impressing left to say, to be honest." At this, Kyoya just smirked and led her back to the table in the main dining hall. The change that the two have them had undergone in such a short time in that small room must have shown through because they were met with knowing glances and a few smiles.

As for Otori Yoshio, he had yet to decide just what his next move would be. Of course, his intentions for Fujioka Haruhi and his son's future had been clear in his mind since the Ouran Fair. But thanks to Yuzuru, he had a much clearer picture of who she was and who she helped Kyoya to be. She had proven her worth, and Kyoya had proven he was willing to fight the obstacles Yoshio may throw at him. There would be more to come, certainly. For now, though, he'd let the two have their moment.

Understandably, Kyoya was also going to fight him. It was in his nature, but the boy would come to realize that Yoshio was only trying to help him along. That was the whole point of making him choose a date. It did help, obviously, that Kyoya had chosen his love wisely. It helped that the girl had not fallen for Suoh's son instead and that this opportunity came along for them when it did.

In fact, the whole thing had fallen into place rather neatly, like a well-choreographed dance. If Yoshio Otori had believed in such things, he may have even dared say it was written in the stars.

The remainder of the evening passed by quickly, with stolen glances exchanged between a new couple and more talk of business that felt empty compared to what they had shared. As the event started to wind to a close, so did all of the dealings that came with it. People began to stand from their tables and speak to one another as they had at the outset. There were polite well-wishes and promises to stay in contact.

Kyoya and Haruhi stood as well, preparing to say a few goodbyes around the room when none other than Yukimura Katsu approached them. He'd spent the past hour carefully weighing his options; it was clear- now more than ever- that the commoner girl was Otori's. This did not surprise Katsu in the slightest (Kyoya did have a reputation for getting what he wanted, after all) nor did it particularly disappoint him.

Fujioka may have been an interesting little study, and she was no doubt smart, but there was no removing that 'commoner' label from her pedigree. Otori could have her if he wanted her. He'd been watching Kyoya as well, though not with the same intentness as with Haruhi. It was clear that he was brilliant, and despite being the third son, deserved to be the heir. Katsu would think Yoshio a fool if he gave that position to either of his other sons- both of whom he'd met. Neither impressed quite like Kyoya did, and it certainly helped that he had Fujioka- who was impressive in her own right- on his arm the whole evening.

Yes, this evening had just been one good move after another from the Otori zaibatsu.

"Otori," Katsu said with a smile. "It's good to see your company has remained in such high standing. "

"Arigato, Yukimura san. No doubt the Research Facilities are still heading up the best and brightest."

"On the whole, yes. Though, I would say we are missing one company in our team," Katsu said, letting the statement hang in the air. How Kyoya reacted to this would be a very important factor.

"Well, I'm sure you of all people can rectify that," Kyoya replied offhandedly, not missing a beat. Katsu smiled just slightly.

"Yes, I'm sure I can. And I will be, quite soon, if not in such a formal setting."

"I look forward to it."

Just like that, an arrangement had been made, and neither man said another word to the other as they parted ways.

"So, what was that?" Haruhi asked when they were out of hearing range.

"That was an opportunity for a business deal with one of the most powerful companies in the world," he replied, letting the barest hint of emotion through. Haruhi just smiled.

"Yukimura's smart, coming to you." Kyoya glanced at her.

"Why is that?"

"This way, by the time you're heading up a company, you will have already had business dealings together. I'm sure it'll make things easier, in the long run."

Kyoya had to smile. There was so much that lay ahead of them, so much to look forward to. It was clear she had faith in his abilities, just as he had in hers. They had spent a lot of time just discovering each other, and there were still so many new things to uncover. Still, even with all these thoughts running through his head, he couldn't help but tease her,

"Careful, you're starting to sound like Tamaki."

"Strong words, coming from the man who took me to a Music Room to show me how he felt about me."

Kyoya's smile only grew. The future was bright.

It was 11 o'clock when Kyoya left Haruhi in front of her front door with a lingering kiss. She slipped inside the apartment, feeling suddenly more awake than she had all day. Because she had braced herself for her father's onslaught of hugs and words and inquisitory demands, the silence that met her was unsettling.

"Dad?" she whispered into the darkness. Flicking on a light, she ventured further into the room. A cursory glance brought a white piece of paper sitting on the coffee table to her attention. She picked it up curiously and unfolded it.

Haruhi,

You must be exhausted! I'm sure you had a wonderful night, but I don't want to keep you up. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.

Love,

Dad

Haruhi felt a smile split across her face.

Always thinking of me, she thought fondly as she placed the letter on the table. As she brought her hand back up, it brushed against something else on the table.

Waiting patiently to be opened, as though it had been anticipating this exact moment, was The Count of Monte Cristo. Deciding there would truly be no other better way to end the night, Haruhi grabbed it and slipped into her room. Quickly, she kicked off her shoes, replaced her dress and accessories with a PJ shirt, and wiped the makeup off her face.

She found the spot she thought most comfortable on the bed and, taking a deep breath, opened to the last page of the book. The letter tied up all the loose ends neatly, just as Haruhi thought it would, but it went beyond that. It spoke of the appreciation of life; it seemed to represent all that Edward had learned and endured and become, and how Maximilian could learn from what the Count had not.

And, reaching the last words of this novel she had come to love and identify with so much, Haruhi's eyes filled with tears as she read them. It was as though Dumas had written them just for her, knowing what she was going to go through and all the mountains of obstacles she'd had to fight against. And for the Host Club, her family. She brushed the words with her thumb and whispered them to herself, holding on to them in her heart so that she'd never forget:

"'Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, 'Wait and Hope.'"

Chapter Text

-6 Months Later-

"Why are we watching this again?"

"Oh, come now. Don't you trust me?"

"You? Of course. I don't trust the Americans who created this eyesore." Kyoya just smiled and slipped the DVD into its player. Then, he joined his girlfriend on the unbelievably small couch he'd come to love.

When he'd discovered that a movie version of The Count of Monte Cristo had been produced in America, he ordered a copy immediately. There was no doubt that it would be far from a worthy tribute to Dumas's work. The Americans had a special knack for ruining books by turning them into movies.

However, it was an excuse to spend a little extra time with Haruhi. With the busy lives they both led, he'd take that opportunity whenever it came to him. They were probably going to spend the majority of the time discussing the inadequacies of the movie rather than actually watching it. Frankly, he was fine with that.

The menu came up and Haruhi reluctantly played the movie. Though she wasn't looking forward to the mess that was sure to follow, she loved that Kyoya put this much thought into spending time with her.

And, on the bright side, it was clear from the opening that the piece at least had good music. She leaned into him, and just as he predicted, called the first mistake she saw, albeit unintentionally:

"Wait, why isn't he going to see his father?" Kyoya just smiled. This was going to be fun.

Two hours, a bowl of popcorn, and 1,000 unforgivable infractions later, the movie ended with some rabble-rousing words from Edmond, though they were not the ones that had so eloquently closed the book. As the credits began to roll, all Haruhi could muster was,

"You've got to be kidding me." And, in reply, Kyoya began to laugh. Though Haruhi had never heard him truly laugh before, she was so wrapped up in the faults of the film that she continued:

"I mean, I knew it was going to be bad, but I didn't think it would be that bad. I didn't know a book-to-screen adaption could be so awful. Can you believe he-" she stopped abruptly.

"Are you laughing?" Kyoya began to quiet down, but the smile remained on his face as he stood and said simply,

"Dance with me." She looked shocked, and wanted to protest (he knew she had two left feet) but something about the way he looked in that moment silenced her. She just nodded and took his hand.

The final song was quite beautiful, but the music was lost on Haruhi as they swayed in circles around her living room. Instead, she found herself completely caught up in the pair of grey eyes in front of her. He looked so at peace, something that had only started showing up on his face in the past couple of months. She loved seeing it. More than that, she loved seeing him. She loved being around him and spending time with him and talking to him, even if it was a debate over something petty.

She loved him, and though she hadn't said it yet, Haruhi was certain Kyoya knew anyway. The music slowed and her bare feet continued to brush the floor as they slowed with it.

All too soon, he'd be graduating, and their lives were going to have to move with the change as they always did. Before Haruhi knew it, she and the twins were going to be graduating, and all the original members of the host club would be moving on to the bigger things they'd always dreamed of.

This life was a dance that she was only just learning the steps to; she was only just starting to understand how to move with grace.

But, she realized, if she was lucky enough to have Kyoya as her dance partner, there wasn't any music she couldn't face.

-End-