Wrong Impressions
by: mylife'sboat
Summary: Kyouya/Haruhi. Haruhi's son gets the wrong idea.
Disclaimer: Nah, it's still the same. Just try it next time.
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The temperature dropped drastically low right after the Christmas holidays and the heater of his office was up to its maximum. Ootori Kyouya lounged on his office chair as he skimmed over a particular document he was supposed to finish before lunch. A meeting with the board was scheduled in the afternoon and he has to make good impressions to appease the other chair members of their group of companies.
After all, as a third son, he had to do best in his every pursuit.
At the raw age of nineteen, Kyouya had had a quarter of the company running through his fingers. He was acknowledged as one of the youngest businessman of his age, and he proved that he wasn't just one pretty boy with the brains. He also had the skill to compete with the business empire.
By the time he was twenty, he moved into Boston to pursue business school and four years later, he officially made his way through the company's system with no sweat.
Now, at thirty-two, he was lying low, while propping his shoes on top of his desk and ordering people around. He would only be busy if he's supposed to make good impressions to new chairpersons of particular companies so he could buy more shares and his business would expand much, much further.
Needless to say, at such a young age, Ootori Kyouya flourished in the business world.
His phone vibrated against the surface his desk and he ignored it while thumbing through a particular paragraph that barely registered on his brain. It was rather distracting as the darn device persistently rang.
Sighing, he threw the documents on the table and glanced at the caller id.
"This better be good, Ikuto," he mumbled grudgingly while loosening his tie and popping out a button on his dress shirt.
The man from the other line merely sighed in disbelief. Landing on a secretarial job, especially if it's for a particular Demon Lord, must have been the hellish of all job experiences he ever had. Nobody ever survived the job and rumor has it that the last time he had a female secretary, he had the poor girl cry and three days after landing on the job, and her resignation papers were already filed on the higher office.
Since then, the workers on his floor declared that the chair right next to his office was cursed.
Ikuto had already signed his death warrant.
"I'm just reminding you about the meeting with the board--"
Before he could finish his sentence, Kyouya had cut off the line.
Yep. His remaining life span must have been cut further into half.
---
The canteen was loaded for late lunch; Kyouya trudged his way down the stone path that led to the car park, while pulling his scarf closer to his neck to gain more warmth. The temperature was cooler in the basement, now that he had left his warm and comforting chair on his office.
He hopped in front of the wheel and drove off at once, trying to find the nearest restaurant he could find. His stomach was killing him.
---
He settled on a rather cheap (in his case) cafeteria since there wasn't anyone around to see him eating in such place. Furthermore, he had to rush for the meeting this afternoon and he had to prepare and make the last polishing on his report.
The opportunity to propose another business deal with another group of companies is too tempting to resist.
Kyouya settled on one table by the corner as the waitress, with an oddly short skirt, bubblegum-pink hair and heavy make-up, approached him to flirt--or rather, to get his order.
---
If someone would ask her, if who could possibly the most important person in her life, she would always answer the same thing: her son.
She was young, fragile and stupid like any other eighteen-year-old. And at the pathetic age of eighteen, fresh from high school, Fujioka Haruhi became pregnant with her first son. Soon after her boyfriend, Hitachiin Hikaru found out, he instantly flew to Paris and denied their child.
Ranka-san, Haruhi's okama of a father, came back from the bar he was working on and found Haruhi on the kotatsu, weeping silently as one familiar stick lay innocently on the surface of the table. He rushed to her side, rubbing her back for comfort when his eyes trailed on the lines on the stick in front of his daughter. It was marked by two, small, red lines.
Haruhi was eight weeks pregnant when he found out and his weak heart almost gave away when he learned that the father of the child fled as soon as he dumped his precious daughter.
She even stopped her father from marching his way up to Paris to skin the little bastard alive while convincing him that it was also her fault to have acted so stupid like that.
Her dream of being a lawyer shattered, she chose to bear the child and six months later, she gave birth to Teppei, who, at an early age, struggled for his life. He came a month earlier than he was due and he had to be put on life support.
With prayers and support from her friends, Haruhi made it through with her son and after two more weeks of incubation, Teppei made all his fangirls melt with a cute face and a smile.
Four years later, the once weak child, became a hyperactive one. At twenty-two, she almost grew white hair and wrinkles.
Haruhi's migraine was kicking up again when she found out Teppei was missing. She was used to it by now. As soon as he had learned to walk when he was barely even a year old, he focused himself on trekking.
It wasn't news.
The first time Haruhi almost had a heart attack after finding out that Teppei was missing, was back when he was three. They were on a restaurant for a friend's birthday party and she was hysterical, purely out of her character. Several more pools of tears and two hours later, they found him crying inside a cubicle on the girl's bathroom where he hid himself from those scary monsters (mascots, in reality), and Haruhi rained him with her kisses.
Ranka, instead of worrying about his grandson, gave a hearty laugh instead, recounting the days when Haruhi would hide inside a closet until the storm stops.
Haruhi's death glare could have been used as a weapon for mass destruction.
Dropping her napkin on the table, she pushed herself up and headed for the girl's bathroom to look for her son.
---
"Mr. Nerd With Glasses Man," a little voice spoke and Kyouya diverted his attention from his food to those large brown eyes that looked up to him in curiosity.
He cleared his throat. 'Mr. Nerd With Glasses Man?'
"Are you lost?" he asked his voice firm.
The little boy shook his head and hid both his arms on his back. His smile was contagious.
"Are you my father?"
...
..
.
His heart must have stopped beating and his lungs almost failed to function. After a whole eternity of holding his breath, the little child's smile brought him back to his senses and covering up a cough was a rather hard job.
"Excuse me?"
"You must be my father, right?"
He coughed again, this time, at the back of his hand and he sat up straight while trying to gain his composure back. He reached for a glass of water and chugged it all down.
Calmer now, Kyouya turned back to the child.
"What's your name?"
"Fujioka Teppei."
"Well Fujioka-kun," he started while devising up a plan on his head. "Do you know your mom's number? She must be looking all over for you."
"I'm not lost. I can't just find my mom anywhere."
What a stubborn child.
"Well maybe you can--"
"TEPPEI!"
Kyouya looked up to see a young woman, rushing over to his table with a stern look on her face. Her resemblance with the boy wasn't missed and Kyouya instantly deduced that this woman is the boy's mother.
When she reached them both, the young woman pulled her child out of Kyouya's reach and reprimanded him with a feigned angry face.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to wander around?"
"I'm sorry," he pouted so childishly it almost melts somebody's heart.
The young woman turned to Kyouya, her large brown eyes flashing with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about that."
With barely a smile, he replied a, "its fine. There's no harm done."
Teppei piped in their conversation and shouted. "Mom! He's daddy, right?"
Haruhi looked quite taken aback and as soon as the feeling spread across her face, it instantly vanished, replacing it with another smile.
"Teppei," she warned the little boy and he merely pouted once more.
It was such a habit he had taken to do, and which anyone would be able to see hard to refuse to.
Finally, Kyouya cleared his throat and spoke. "Uhm--if you don't mind, I'm inviting you to my table to share my lunch."
With his identically hazel eyes shining, Teppei cheered and Haruhi merely smiled shyly, eventually giving into his offer as he looked at her with a smile. "I guess it wouldn't be bad."
Kyouya motioned for the short-skirted waitress and asked if she could pull out two more chairs. She arrived with a muscular busboy and stormed away, looking quite disappointed.
As Teppei forked on his food, Haruhi took the opportunity to start up a conversation. "Thanks for inviting us in, by the way."
"It's Kyouya. Ootori Kyouya."
Haruhi offered her hand with another one of her smiles. "Fujioka Haruhi."
Her large, brown eyes, her short hair, her child-like smile. Kyouya found himself driven to her simplistic beauty and humble demeanor.
"So, what does a Fujioka Haruhi does for a living?"
Coffee might soon follow and the board meeting can wait.
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A/N: The ending didn't satisfy me as much. But for this particular story, I'm not granting any requests for a sequel (for the time being). Though I doubt I'd be motivated to write one anyway. If you just noticed, they're ten years apart. Heh. Kyouya's a pedo. :P
Depression is striking me and I'm on a desperate search for a cheer-up crew. You can apply by submitting your reviews on this fic. I love reading your opinions. No other requirements, just your effort on typing at least three words of encouragement. So, 'good job' wouldn't count. It's better if you add more words, and form sentences, until you end up to lengthy paragraphs. I take more notice on longer ones. Anyway. I'll stop with the blabbering. I have to go to sleep. :) Hope to see your names on my review link!