Okies, this is the beginning of my newest story. I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen... so bear with me. And yes, for the record, I did change the driving age so Haruhi could drive.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran High. I mean, do you really think I'm Bisco Hatori?

I could not remember when I had first realized. I mean, it's not like someone walked up to me and said, "Hey, you're in love with Tamaki Suoh." It just happened.

On the other hand, I could easily remember when I had realized it was in my best interest never to fall in love with Kyoya Ohtori.

He had been talking in the hallway with one of his admirers. Yes, he did have some, although how a girl could fall in love with an icy, emotionless man like him was beyond me.

I was just passing by. I don't stalk him or anything like that, and this looked personal. I didn't want to or try to hear. But I did anyway.

"Um... Kyoya-senpai... please accept this." She leaned forward, brown curls toppling about her face as she extended her hands to him. In her slender fingers was clutched a pink envelope sealed with a heart.

Kyoya didn't even take it. He considered for a moment, impassive face looking as stony as ever. "Don't waste your time. I would gain no merit from loving you."

Even walking by, I couldn't stop myself from flinching at his heartlessness. I decided then and there to never, ever fall in love with an Ohtori.

Maybe it was right after that that I knew. Perhaps it wasn't.

But I did notice soon afterwards how my eyes would flick towards Tamaki whenever given the chance. How I began to wish Tamaki would treat me more like one of his customers. How it became harder and harder to be annoyed by his antics.

I was in love.

I wanted to tell him, but it never seemed to be the right time.

Time came, and past, and still I was unable to admit the truth. But this story isn't about my lack of romantic skills. It's about what happened to me on one fall day, a single day that seemed so normal at first. A day that would change my life forever.

I was wrapped up in thought when this story begins, thinking of nothing beyond the blond only a few feet away from me. He laughed, smiled, managed to produce a rose from nowhere. I was fascinated by his very presence.

"Haruhi!" My thoughts were interrupted by a customer, Maki-chan. I snapped back to reality.

My other customer, Rika-chan, leaned forwards. "What were you thinking of, Haruhi-kun?"

"Oh, just how beautiful the weather was today." I gestured towards the gorgeous fall afternoon outside, hating myself for having to lie. It was something I'd had to do more and more as I fell in love with Tamaki.

"Are we not more beautiful than the weather, Haruhi-kun?" Maki-chan asked.

I smiled at the girl, glad she had presented me with a chance to be honest again. "You are more beautiful than the weather, but the sunlight would make you look even more lovely."

The words came naturally, flowing and smooth. Maki swooned, and Rika smiled happily.

Just then my phone rang. I sighed. I was not all too fond of the machine, but the twins insisted I needed one, most likely to annoy Tamaki. "Hang on a moment, girls."

I flipped open the silver phone, pressing it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, Haruhi, this is Mizuki. Your father got a bit too drunk and is bothering the customers. I was wondering if you could come pick him up. I mean, I would offer to take him home, but I'm busy."

"Sure, Mizuki-san. It's no problem. I'll be there in about half an hour."

"Thank you, Haruhi."

I hung up, internally hitting myself for forgetting to mention I had no way of getting to dad's bar.

Just get a ride from another club member, I thought. Not the twins: they seem to be off in their own little world. Hunny and Mori seem very busy right now. Kyoya... well, he would say no even if he wasn't doing anything, or add money to my debt for imposing on him. That just leaves... I smiled. That could work.

But how to make it seem like you didn't single him out? He's pretty thick most of the time, but if he guesses, everything will be ruined. Just act casual. You need a ride and everyone else looks busy, that's all there is to it. Okay. Ready, set... go.

"Rika-chan, Maki-chan, gomenesai, but my father needs me. Perhaps some other time?"

They nodded reluctantly.

Grinning, I made my way though a maze of chairs and fan girls to tap Tamaki's shoulder. "Tamaki-senpai, I need a word with you."

He nodded and followed me to a corner of the vast room. "I'm sorry to bother you, but my father got drunk and needs me to pick him up. I can drive his car home, but I need a ride there. Will you drive me?"

"Gomen, Haruhi, but I'm busy with customers, and your father doesn't like me much even when he's sober. I'm sorry to hear that tragic tale and not be able to do anything as your father, but daddy has to work and can't help his darling daughter—er, son," he said, making sure no one had heard, and, finding no one within hearing range, continued, "but, work is work!" Tamaki returned to his customers, tears turning to laughter as he reached them. "Ask Kyoya!" he called over his shoulder.

I gritted my teeth. The shadow king is my only option?

Could I just leave Mizuki to sort out dad? No, he's been far too kind to us before for me to leave him like that. But I value my health and my sanity and those might both be on the line when Kyoya makes me pay him back. Damn. Looks like there is no other way...

I advanced on Kyoya grudgingly, like a soldier going to battle. He was seated at a back table, eyes trained on the screen of his laptop. I stopped in front of him.

Warily, I asked, "Kyoya-senpai?" I looked away from his face.

He seemed not to hear me, or at least he was unwilling to acknowledge my presence. I turned and glanced at him, prepared to tell him it was rude to ignore people, and stopped before the words left my mouth.

He was looking at the screen with an inexplicable expression on his face. It threw me for a loop. Kyoya, the ice king from hell, looks peaceful? No, not just peaceful, almost kind. Is that even physically possible for his facial muscles? I felt winded, unable to speak.

But then he looked up at me, and his face reverted to its original form. "Why are you here, Haruhi?" There seemed to be malice in his voice.

Content in the knowledge that he was not actually dying or kidnapped by aliens and replaced by an impostor, my voice returned. "I need a ride to my dad's work, and the others are busy."

Kyoya thinks for a moment, then answers, "Fine. But only if you agree to a penalty."

"What sort of a penalty?"

"I would think (obscenely and ridiculously large amount of money) would suffice."

"I think that counts as cruel and unusual punishment, and I could sue you in the U.S."

"Very well. Then (slightly less large amount of money) will work."

"Are you actually planning to enslave me, because you would have to to ever get that much money or work from me."

Kyoya sighed. "My lowest offer is (less than ridiculous amount of money, still large.)"

Relief filled me. "Very well."

Kyoya stood, saying, "Come with me, then."

Within ten minutes I was seated in a limousine with enough technology to satisfy the needs of ten computer geeks. There was A.C., a built in phone system, a computer, a plasma television, a mini-fridge stocked with soda and ice cream cake (undoubtedly from Hunny's last ride in it), a P.S.3 and Wii (undoubtedly from the twins' last ride in it) and a box labeled "commoner's toys" (must I even say whose that was?)

I was not expecting Kyoya to speak, and as such I was not disappointed. We both sat in silence, Kyoya with that peaceful look on his face and I twiddling my thumbs and wondering if it was rude to make the temperature slightly less than Arctic.

The time passed slowly, but eventually we were parked in the parking lot of my father's bar.

"Thanks for the ride," I said, stepping out of the limo.

It was ten steps to the bar door, but I could hear my father after just three. I sighed, preparing for a spectacle.

The glass doors swung open to reveal a room clouded by cigarette smoke and littered with men sipping alcoholic beverages to the sound of pulsating and highly irritating music.

Somehow my father's slurred voice managed to rise above the pitch of the music.

"So this blond boy is constantly assaultin' my daughter, callin' her his daughter. And now, I'm pretty damn sure I'm her dad, tho' sometimes I can't help but wonder, 'cuz she is everythin' like her mom and nothin' like me, y'know?"

Mizuki rushed over to me, grabbing me in a tight hug. "Thank god you're here, Haruhi. Please get him home, and tell him to come back when he's sober."

I smiled vaguely, slipping out of the crushing arms of my dad's well meaning boss and walking to my slightly-less well meaning dad.

He was standing on a table, dyed blond hair tangled and multi-colored as the strobing lights passed through it. He was slumped slightly, and barely standing, knees almost fully buckled.

I waited a moment to admire modern technology: the bar looked like it might be midnight rather than the middle of the day.

I didn't have long, however, because dad noticed me soon enough and stumbled to face me.

"There she is!" He pronounced proudly, pointing a trembling finger at me. "There's my girl. Such a good girl too. Always takes care of her," he paused to hiccup, "dad."

"That's enough, dad," I said, aware of the blush that was forming on my cheeks. I know he's drunk now, and that's why he's embarrassing me, but why can't he drink in moderation? Why me? "You have to come down now. Just climb off the table and I'll get you home."

He looked at me indignantly. "I can—hic—drive, Haruhi. Really, I haven't—hic—had more than a few drinks."

The snicker that emitted from the back of the room would have alerted me to his lie, if I hadn't spotted it already. "No," I protested, "you can't. That's why I'm here, dad. To take you home."

"Home," he agreed drunkenly. "Good—hic—idea. No reason to stay 'ere with this stupid —hic—drunks."

I nodded, glad he was agreeing. "That's right, dad, that's right. Just get off the table and come with me."

He tried to follow my instructions, ending up half-stepping half-falling off the table. I caught and steadied him, though he was definitely not light.

Waving good-bye to Mizuki, I managed to drag him out the doors to his car.

I wrenched open the metal door of the passenger seat, shoving his drooling form into the car.

Cursing alcohol, I walked to the other door, yanked it open and swung inside. It closed with a slam, and barely missed hitting my foot.

"Buckle up, dad," I said, and proceeded to do so myself.

The car turned on with a growl, as if it was an animal that did not wish to move.

Still, after a minute's worth of coaxing and smacking the steering wheel, the car finally began to move.

I pulled out carefully, shifting from reverse to drive with some more complaint from the car. I waved on Kyoya's limo, and guided the spluttering machine out of the parking lot.

Dad continued to mutter to himself all through-out three stop lights.

At the fourth, however, his words finally became comprehensible.

"Such a good girl," he murmured. "Always takes care of me. Such a good girl..."

He toppled towards me.

Normally, his fall would have been stopped by a seat belt. But it wasn't until that moment that I noticed the absence of the fabric strip. And by then it was too late.

He landed head-first in my lap, unintentionally causing my foot to shift.

It pushed, ever so gently, on the gas.

I tried to remove it, but I was pinned under the immobile form of my father. I was trapped, unable to change my own fate.

Somehow, the car managed to pass the first two lanes, the ones coming towards us on the driver's side, with no collisions.

My luck wouldn't last, though.

People say that when you are about to be badly hurt, the adrenalin racing through your body slows down time, giving you time to think.

This isn't true. Adrenalin never slows anything down.

Rather, it speeds something up.

Your brain begins to process at a rate so fast, you can notice everything around you in mere moments.

It was because of this that I was able to see the oncoming truck, think carefully, and realize that I hadn't a single option.

The vehicle was coming, coming fast.

And I couldn't do a single thing to stop it.

Then there was no more time to think, because we were colliding, rammed with titanic amounts of force.

A crunching sound caught my ear as my seat belt ripped and I was thrown into the dash board, but I could not process the pain. My mind was focused of the blaring, horrible sound of metal colliding into metal.

The world spun around me, a confusing mix of colors and sounds I could not fully comprehend.

There was screaming, though I could not tell if it issued from my own mouth or that of a bystander. We spun around and around, skidding to a stop.

For a second, everything disappeared. My heartbeat rose in my mind, a muffled noise that was slowing, ever slowing. There was no air entering my lungs, no pain, just my lethargic heartbeat.

I knew then that I was going to die.

At that exact moment, however, the ancient air bags deployed. They threw me back into my seat, smacking me in the chest violently.

I gasped, oxygen flowing through my body. I'm not sure if they saved me or ruined my life, but either way, my heart beat increased steadily.

As my heartbeat returned, however, so did the pain.

It did not gradually ebb back, either. No, it suddenly threw itself at me, and the scream that tore the still air was definitely mine.

I heard the noise of a car door slamming. "Haruhi!" A voice called.

And then I remembered who I was, where I was, and who I had been with.

"Dad?" I whispered, trying to turn myself to face him.

The howl that came with the fresh stab of pain made me fully aware that the movement had been a mistake.

It was one thing two much. My overly taxed body shut itself, abruptly, down for repairs.

All that was left was me, and the sound of my heart.

Thump, thump. Thump... thump. Thump...

And then there was nothing.

Thanks for reading the first chapter. I would, as always, appreciate your reviews, but I will not blackmail you for them. Apologies for the cliffie.

And, no, to any concerned readers, Haruhi is not dead. Just really, really close to it.

No Flames!!!