Family Matters
Author's Notes: A fic written for the LJ community 31 Days, in response to theMay 14th theme: "The finely detailed insanity you've come to expect". Not meant to be taken seriously at all. (Also a Mother's Day fic! XD)
This fic was written in the style and setting of the "Ouran Love Theater" which is a set of extras in the Ouran manga, where Tamaki is cast as the Father, Kyouya the Mother, and Haruhi, Hikaru, and Kaoru their children. Mori and Honey are their next door neighbors. So you could say the fic is semi-AU, at that (or residing completely in Tamaki's imagination…)
Ouran Love Theater: Suoh Family Drama: Wherein the eldest daughter of the Suoh family cannot go to school because of a thunderstorm.
Coming down to greet his family during the mornings was a matter that Suoh Tamaki—in his family known only as Father—placed great importance, and much thought, every morning. The timing was important: all the other members of his family must already be seated around the table (with the exception of Mother, who, being too busy with the task of managing the family's finances, was served breakfast in bed), and at the exact moment when his twin sons would dive right down into the bowl of rice—without even waiting for Father, such impudence!—Father would swoop right in, take his eldest daughter Haruhi into his arms, and with a smile and a kiss for her, greet the members of his family with a warm good morning.
Today he decided to vary his morning greeting, and begin with some poetry, maybe something about the accompanied hope ushered in by yet another rising of the sun, or the beauty of the education his children were going to get by another day's worth of learning. He had practiced his greeting even in his sleep, and even while he dressed.
He was ready. He practically ran down the stairs in his excitement, hearing his cue: the familiar sounds of metal on metal, signaling that his dear Haruhi was already handing out the utensils to her brothers. Father paused at the foot of the stairs for a split second, then jumped into the dining room, saying:
Sadness flies on the wings of the morning and out of the heart of darkness comes the light,
"Good morning Ha—"
He stopped, jaw dropping slightly as he began to stare. His gaze first fell on the their table, empty, with no trace of any of the breakfast food on the table. He then stared at the tall young man with sparse jet-black hair, sitting by the dining table instead of his two sons.
And lastly, he stared at the person he was now carrying in his arms. The said person just clung on tightly to him, eyes gleaming in delight.
"Tama-chan," said the child with pale yellow hair, still holding on to his arm tightly, "That was beautiful poetry. Good morning too!"
With a cry, Father dropped him to the floor. The child went bawling over to the young man sitting by the dining table, but Tamaki gave hardly any notice to this.
"Where—" he sputtered, "Where are my children? Where—" At this he fought back the lump that had come to his throat, "Where is Haruhi?"
The young man said nothing, and only stood up and carried the sobbing child on his shoulder. The child stopped crying immediately, and smiled again.
"Haru-chan couldn't come out of her room," said the child, brightly.
"What? Why?"
The black-haired young man motioned to the window. "Open it," he said.
Father shrugged, and as he threw the curtains aside, said, "I really never could understand you, next door neighbors. But really, whatever in the world could make Haruhi—"
Wind and rain suddenly lashed out at him as he opened the window, and his words were cut short as a loud booming sound crashed in the distance.
"…Aa."
He raced to his daughter's bedroom without another word to his two neighbors ("But we want to help you too," whined the pale-haired child), and tried to go inside her room: it was locked.
"Haruhi! Haruhi! Are you all right?"
His daughter's voice came, muffled. "I'm—I'm fine, Father."
"But this thunder—"
"Please don't worry. I'll ride this out."
"You'll be late for school, though," came another voice from inside the room.
Father rapped on the door soundly until his knuckles went white. "Hikaru! Kaoru! You're in there too? Let Father in, or I'll—"
"All right, all right," came two voices, identical ones, both sounding peeved. With a click, the knob turned, and Father finally went inside the room. Through the window he saw that the storm still raged outside, and he could still see flashes of lightning downwards from the dark clouds that blocked out everything else in the sky. His twin sons, Hikaru and Kaoru, both crouched beside his daughter's bed, and peered under it.
"Haruhi," Father said gently, kneeling down beside his sons, "Father's here. You need not be afraid, now."
"I think," Hikaru muttered, "That she would even be more scared, now that you're here, Father."
"Mother is scarier though," Kaoru put in, which Hikaru seconded with a nod.
"Will you be quiet, sons?" Father crept down under the bed, where he found his daughter crouched down, hugging her knees, shivering. "Haruhi…"
"Please go away, Father," said Haruhi, calmly, and had Father not known her better, he would have thought that she really wasn't scared of the thunder that kept booming above their heads.
"I won't go away, Haruhi," Father said to his eldest daughter, taking her hand. It felt cold, and clammy. "There really is nothing to be scared of. Lightning will never strike someone as lovely, and as wonderful a daughter, as you are."
"Does that have anything to do with it?" Kaoru said, and Hikaru added, "Father, Haruhi isn't stupid enough to believe that, so saying such ridiculous stuff would only make things worse."
"Nonsense, Haruhi trusts in the wisdom of her Father—" at which point his voice trailed off, for he realized that Haruhi was shivering more violently now, and the hairs on her skin had stood up on end.
"Oh, Haruhi," Father said, desperately. "My poor daughter. Forgive your Father for his carelessness, his idiocy, his utter hopelessness—"
Haruhi's grip on his hand suddenly tightened as another crash of thunder sounded in the distance, and she crept towards him, burying her head in his chest. He held his arms around her, and her shivering subsided slightly.
"You're not alone here," he said to her, gently.
She only nodded, and held on to him.
"Fifteen seconds."
Hikaru and Kaoru turned to stare at the tall young man who was their next door neighbor, just entering the room. The pale-haired child, still sitting on his taller companion's shoulders, smiled back at them.
Suddenly the child pumped a fist in the air, looking triumphant. "Seventeen seconds now!"
The twins exchanged glances.
"See," the child explained, a grin spreading on his small, round face, "Thunder happens only as a result of lightning striking the earth. We see the lightning first, because it travels faster. Sound travels slower."
"And your point would be, dear next door neighbor?" Father said, from under the bed.
"Five seconds," now said their black-haired neighbor.
"Yes," the child agreed. "It takes about five seconds for the sound of thunder to travel a mile, compared to light, which we see the moment it strikes the ground. So, since thunder only followed the lightning flash seventeen seconds later, that means…"
"See, Haruhi?" Kaoru said, and Hikaru finished, "There's no real danger at all."
"You idiots," Father said crossly, "How in the world can that assure dear Haruhi?" He was about to speak further, when Haruhi pulled back from him.
Even in the darkness, he still saw her smile, a little.
"I'll be fine now, Father," she said. Father looked at her with concern, but she only repeated, "I'll be fine, really," and he knew that this time, she was telling him the truth.
He refused to let go of her hand, however, even when he led her out from underneath her bed.
Her twin brothers instantly pounced on her, and the pale-haired child also leapt down towards her. She was smiling again when they did so, even while thunder still kept on in the distance.
"Are you really sure," Father said, struggling to get hold of his daughter again, "That you will be all right to go to school today, my dear daughter?"
"We will take good care of Haruhi," said the twins. "We promise."
"I'd better walk you all to school today," Father insisted. "Work is far less important than the safety of my beloved children, especially my dearest, eldest daughter—"
"It's not really going to school that I'm worried about now," Haruhi said.
"Then what, Haruhi?"
"I don't think I can—" She hesitated a little, then went on. "When you all leave me alone in my room, I'll still feel afraid of the thunder. The sound terrifies me, still."
"But why will we leave you alone, Haruhi? It's unthinkable, I will never—"
"I will have to change into my uniform, Father," Haruhi said.
"Then we will ask our neighbors to step out of the room," Father said, motioning for the said people out the door ("But I want to stay with Haru-chan," the child whined as his companion carried him out).
"No, Father," Haruhi insisted. "You have to go."
"Your brothers will stay with you," the twins chorused, at which their Father glared at them. "We used to do this all the time, didn't we, dear sister?"
"We used to do it too, Haruhi!" Father cried. "When have you been so cold to your Father?"
"I'm already a high school student," Haruhi snapped. "First, you wanted to take a bath with me, and now, you—"
Thunder crashed again, and Haruhi paled visibly.
"But what are we going to do?" Father said. His expression grew stern now, and his eyes narrowed. "I will not have you arguing with me about this, Haruhi. I am deeply concerned for you, and I—"
"Hmm. I think the solution to this is simple, dear."
Father and his two sons froze. Mother—wearing a lounging robe and fur slippers—stepped into the room, eyeglasses suddenly glinting with the flash of lightning from outside the window.
"Mommy will help you dress, Haruhi," Kyouya said, stepping forward and taking Haruhi's hand. "Now, please, Hikaru, Kaoru, and Daddy, step out of the room."
"Wait!" Father shook his head violently, as he grabbed Mother's hand away from Haruhi's own. "This isn't right—"
"But she is after all," Haruhi said, looking puzzled, "My mother. Nothing's wrong with it, is there?"
"Our daughter is right," Mother said, smiling serenely, "Dear. Now, will you please?"
Father and his twin sons were escorted out of the room, and as they stood right beside their two neighbors, Mother closed the door right in their faces, shutting out their protests.
"Well," the pale-haired child said, cheerfully, "Good morning."
The three of them just glanced at each other, and sank down to the floor, defeated. Thunder rolled again, in the distance.