((This is part one of what I intend to be a multi-part story. I'm basing the continuation of this fanfiction on the feedback it recieves. I've had this story brewing in my head for weeks now, and I finally decided to get it all down.

Also; Ranka will be referred to as "he". For trannies... it's really up to the individual's preference, and I base calling him "he" on the fact that Haruhi calls him "dad".

Please Review. This is my first crack at romance.

Dedicated to Colonel-Zexion.))

Richer

"Yes. He is incredibly smart. And for his age, very well developed…" Kyoya's father droned on to his associate. This meeting was guaranteed to end in either forced celebration, or overdramatic disappointment. The elder was trying to arrange a marriage, and while he had high hopes for the affair, Kyoya couldn't deem either worthy of anything but apathy.

Kyoya took the opportunity to dismiss himself. His father and the associate had long since ceased their meaningless chatter about his appearance, and it had been longer still since either of them had actually spoken to him. He made his way to his bedroom, stepping lightly to avoid drawing attention to himself. Upon reaching the room, he locked the door, then tossed himself unceremoniously to his bed. He sighed, running his slightly trembling fingers through his hair.

"Apathy" may have been no more than wishful thinking. In reality, (a reality that he shared with no one, mind you), the entire ordeal pissed him off to a degree that nothing else could or had. It hadn't been so long ago that his father's entire company had been ripped out from under him… Kyoya had proven his worth and ability to care for himself. Yet, he wasn't even given the freedom to choose his own bride.

"I only want what's best for you."

"Your actions were impressive, but you are an Ootori nonetheless."

"You can't expect me to have you run off with some commoner?"

His father had said all of these things, and more, in his attempt to justify the marital arrangement. Though one word made itself known amongst its plentiful cohorts. A word that burned and stung with its finality. A word that should have been meaningless. It had always been meaningless to him. It was a word used to describe those less fortunate than he was. A word for the masses of people he need not associate himself with, much less consider his friends. It was meaningless, and yet it brought along with it a dreaded pain he had never before experienced.

"Commoner…" he muttered to himself. "Commoner."

These three syllables… How could they affect him so drastically? The definition of "commoner" itself was entirely redundant to the actual situation. Someone's status in society shouldn't matter more than love.

And there was that pesky little word again. The four-lettered one that brought with it even more confusing internal debates than "commoner".

Kyoya sat up, sighing to himself. He needed air.

He stepped out of his room, absentmindedly loosening his tie as he made his way to the study. The study was a combination of a den and a library. Bookshelves lined the walls. A large desk was to the far left of the entrance. It had all of the essentials for a proper library, but the plush armchair and fireplace brought along the comfort of a den. The finishing touch to the room was the balcony. This is where Kyoya was headed.

He stepped outside, breathing in deeply as he did so. The balcony overlooked the courtyard, and gave a beautiful view of the gardens. More importantly, it was quiet. Silence was more important than nearly anything at the moment, and even if he had been there to enjoy the view, the approaching black clouds would have destroyed the urge instantly.

It was going to storm. Oh, how he wished the universe hadn't decided to provide ambiance for him specifically today. The storms also meant Haruhi wouldn't be sleeping well tonight.

Why did his thoughts keep drifting to that girl?

Sudden thunder interrupted his thoughts. He made a mental note to call her and warn her of the storm before taking one last breath and heading back inside. That was quite enough ambiance for the time being.

Poorer

"Dad, I just don't understand why we have to move." Haruhi growled, stomping after her father. "What's wrong with where we live now?"

"I simply can't live here anymore, Haruhi." Ranka argued, flipping his hair over his shoulder to accommodate his purse. "And the job I've found near the new apartment is double the pay I'm making now."

"But Dad, I have to finish school at Ouran!" Haruhi protested.

"You can. You'll just have to take the classes online. I'm sorry dear. It's what your mother would want."

Haruhi sat up abruptly, gasping. This was the second time this nightmare had scared her awake. It was so short, but it embodied all of her greatest fears… being taken away from her friends. Her home. This apartment. It may not be big or glamorous, but this was her mother's home as well. Haruhi's mother lived here, which gave this place too much sentimental value to just… abandon. It seemed silly, but so did many of Haruhi's beliefs, she guessed.

She must have dozed off for longer than intended. It was dark outside. She stretched, yawning, and scanning the area for her cell phone. It had fallen off her bed, and somehow slid under it. Grunting with frustration, Haruhi strained to reach it, mentally cursing her small stature. As she reached for her phone, the sky flashed suddenly from nighttime to midday, the flash accompanied by an explosion of thunder.

Haruhi yelled in shock, falling from her bed and covering her ears. It wasn't nighttime. It was storming.

Her room fell back into silent darkness, but Haruhi didn't dare remove her hands from her ears. As expected, the storm began its angry rage, bringing with it one of Haruhi's most unshakable and childish fears. Thunder and lightning. Anyone who truly knew Haruhi knew of this fear. It was rooted in her memories of her childhood. Many children are afraid of thunder and lightening, but the majority of them had one thing Haruhi hadn't. Someone to tell them it was just thunder, or just God bowling, or something like that. It may have been trivial to someone who had actually been told these things, but for someone who had grown up without ever hearing it, it was very significant.

As distracted as she was by the storm, Haruhi felt something vibrate against her foot. It was her cell phone. Who in the name of God would-?

She pushed her phone closer to her with her foot, staring at it. The caller I.D. read "Kyoya-senpai".