How it Happened

by WikketKrikket

Oneshot for Fruitichan! KyouHaru. Kyouya is not quite sure how it happened, and he doesn't like being in the dark. So he's going to figure it out. Pure fluff, so happy birthday Fruiti! :D Author name changed from Waffles4eva

A/N: Ha ha, the wait is finally over, Fruiti-chan! XD This one's written for the aforementioned writer's birthday; and is probably a bit of a dud present, but never mind that. After so many complimentary reviews how could I not? First attempt at a Kyou/Haru too, as it's her favourite… Hope you enjoy, my equally-Ouran-obsessed friend, and happy birthday:D

How It Happened

Kyouya was not entirely sure how it had happened.

This was unusual to him. He was sure of most things, not just sure, certain. He always knew, indeed, had always known, exactly where he had come from, where he was heading, and what he would achieve in between. But this… she… had just walked into the room one day, come from nowhere. And now this.

No, he was not entirely sure how, or indeed when, he had let it happen. As he walked down to his car that Saturday afternoon, he wondered about 'it'.

Again.

Perhaps, he found himself entertaining the notion, it had been one of those ridiculous 'love at first sight' scenarios that he found so ludicrous, and that was why he hadn't noticed it's approach.

The door didn't open in any particularly special way. In fact, it wasn't even a particularly graceful way to open a door, so he could understand, almost, the others thinking she was a guy- albeit an uncivilised one. His eyes had swept over her, gathering distain over the messy hair, the shapeless sweater, the thick glasses.

Sometimes, it seemed to Kyouya, he was the only one in this school who knew how to wear glasses and still look presentable.

He knew who this person was, naturally. Fujioka Haruhi, the scholarship student. She evidently had more interest in brains than in beauty, so she probably wouldn't have much interest in the club. He was all prepared to dismiss her.

Yet, Tamaki and the others, idiots that they were, believed her to be a guy. Boredom had lowered Kyouya's self-restraint, and he'd found this vaguely amusing. He could understand the confusion, certainly, but it was for more entertaining not to correct them and see how long it took them. He was surprised when the girl herself didn't correct them, but still, had no more than a passing interest.

Then, she'd knocked over that vase. That René one, with the exquisite blue patterning, meant to be the Host Club's contribution to the school's auction. Yet, it's destiny seemed to be somewhat more imminent, and somewhat more smashed. And somewhat more of a loss.

Kyouya had spent weeks winging a deal to get that vase.

In the times to follow, it seemed to be Kyouya, the only one with as much sense as money, who handled her debt. Still, people forgot it was not him who had inflicted it upon her. She herself had turned around, slowly, and begun:

"Ano… About paying for this…"

Kyouya had chosen not to even dignify that with an answer. Yet, the others had. The King's judgement came down in accordance to the 'When in Rome' law. He had been rather concerned when Tamaki's sentence had been for her to be 'The Host Club Dog'. Thankfully, for once, he did not mean this role play literally.

And so, Haruhi joined the Host Club; and thus, Kyouya met her.

No. That wasn't it, he was sure. Now caught up in the heavy noon-time traffic, Kyouya satisfied himself that probably wasn't when it had happened. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, happier to be in control than to have a driver, and pondered further. If it had not always been there, as he had suspected it hadn't been, then when? After all, he had been the one to finally get the message through to Tamaki, by giving her a girls' uniform. Had that been a warning of all this?

He handed it over. It wasn't, as he'd claimed, their only spare uniform. He had merely tired of waiting for Tamaki to cotton on to her gender and decided to give him a 'subtle' clue. Surely, when Haruhi remerged from the changing rooms wearing the girl's uniform, even that idiot couldn't fail to twig.

Unfortunately, that idiot managed to ruin it, walking in to the changing room before anyone could stop him. Still, at least it left no doubt; because, in hindsight, had Haruhi emerged in the dress, Tamaki's first thought probably would have been cosplay. Tamaki's reaction had been suitably horrified and faintly hilarious; it was Haruhi's that frustrated him.

The girl defied all logic. He didn't understand why anyone in their right minds would prefer hosting to chores- even he would rather handle the management side of things than 'listen to girls chit-chat'. Did she not find it humiliating that she was such a poor portrayal of her gender? And why wasn't she the least bit embarrassed, or even annoyed, at Tamaki walking in on her when she was only in a vest?

She was a curiosity, an enigma, a puzzle. Kyouya always understood people's motives, he made a point of doing so. There had only ever been one exception, and that was Tamaki, who's motivation proved to be as erratic and ever changing as his thought pattern. Yet Kyouya had no idea of Haruhi's, and if he did not know it he could not use it. That was why he had got in touch with Haruhi's father. Well, partly. It was good business sense to have a link everywhere, even into the commoner section of society. A phone call to Ranka made perfect sense. The call itself made very little sense, of course.

"So you're Kyouya-senpai!"

"That's right, Fujioka-san."

"And you're the one who's putting Haruhi to work?"

The effeminate voice had suddenly taken a threatening tone. Luckily, Kyouya was smooth and quick witted enough to charm temperamental high school girls and calm Tamaki. He could certainly deal with an over-protective father.

"That was Haruhi-chan's own decision." He answered, deciding on a suffix of friendly familiarity without overstepping into being disrespectful. Best to give the impression of friendship with her. "She broke the vase, and was adamant that she repaid the club. Actually, that's why I'm phoning. I thought it would be completely out of order to let her do such work without consulting you first. Haruhi-chan is such a hard worker, I think the only way she would stop would be if you disapproved."

"Ah, ah, Kyouya-kun!" The man had said in delight, obviously crazy about his daughter. "I've always said that about her! Her mother was always the same!"

'Was'. Kyouya took careful note.

"But, I'm not against Haruhi being in the club if she's meeting new people. It'll be good for her to socialise! I can't be worried now I know what a reliable young man is looking out for her!"

"Well, I'm flattered, but Haruhi is wonderfully responsible; she requires very little care…"

"I know! She's so mature, and yet, still so cute! Yes, Kyouya-kun! I shall share her cuteness with you! And all the students at that school! You know, she got in entirely of her own accord… she's always aimed high. She wants to be a lawyer, you know."

"I have no doubt she'll manage it." Kyouya lied. He actually had no idea. Certainly, Haruhi seemed very stubborn. 'Determined', as he'd no doubt this man would put it; he was just like Tamaki. Suddenly, he began to understand how she dealt with the king so easily.

"What about you, Kyouya-kun? I'm sure you have high aspirations, too!"

Kyouya frowned. He disliked questions about his future. Deplored them. "Yes." He answered, grudgingly. "I'm hoping to be involved in my father's company. It handles the management of hospital and medical facilities."

"Oooh, a smart young man too!"

"May I ask what you do, Fujioka-san?" Kyouya said, not knowing he would regret it.

"I'm an Okama-san, actually." He said, without a hint of shame. "And call me Ranka!"

Kyouya readjusted his glasses slightly. Her father was a cross-dresser. Somehow, that explained a lot.

"Kyouya-kun?"

"Yes, Ranka-san?"

"Haruhi won't just tell you if something's bothering her. So watch closely!"

"Of course." He answered.

At that point, Kyouya realised, as he finally came out of the congestion and into a clear run, he hadn't even considered it a promise. It had just been more empty words, thrown out without a second thought. He hadn't even reflected on Ranka's statementthat she would keep her worries to herself, had reasoned her worries were her own and nothing to do with him. So that moment wasn't it, either. Perhaps, then, it had happened when he had suddenly cared about them?

She had stared up at him in that gloomy room, in the darkness, him still a little damp from his shower, shirtless, hanging over her on the bed in a place where they were all alone. Without his glasses, his vision was blurred, but he stared back and could just bring her wide eyes into focus. Yet, those eyes did not hold the least bit of fear or anxiety, just a little confusion. She didn't even look particularly offended. In her typically blunt manner, she quickly informed him why she wasn't frightened. Apparently, he wouldn't do anything that wasn't to his merit.

For a moment, he had been sorely tempted to prove her wrong. To press his head down to hers, seal his lips over hers, and remind her properly of her gender. But he couldn't do it. There was no merit in it. For some reason, he was irrationally disappointed that she had so easily worked him out- even Tamaki hadn't got that yet.

Of course, she wasn't done with him just yet. She clicked on pretty fast what his aim had been. Then she twisted it. And said that he was nice for wanting to back Tamaki up.

Which, really, was completely opposite to what she had said before. It wasn't even true. It would just be rather problematic if Haruhi was so unaware of the dangers that she either got hurt or found out. Either way, it would be him who would have to pick up the pieces, so he did not want her to get hurt.

She was the first one who had ever said he was 'nice'. It was an interesting concept. Totally stupid, too, considering he was the one monitoring her debt. He entertained, for the briefest of moments, the notion that perhaps she was just trying to sweeten him up.

Then that seemed highly unlikely. She was, after all, brutally honest.

Finally, who had burst in but the prize idiot who jumped to all sorts of conclusions. Kyouya supposed that was the thanks he got for finding a more effective, although extreme, way of bringing the message home. Then he supposed it had all looked rather suspicious- wasn't that the idea?

It was a good job Tamaki hadn't come in when he'd had her pinned to the bed…

Kyouya left. His thoughts were muddled anyway. The thing was, as much as his original intentions had been to teach her a lesson, he couldn't help but note that temptation to kiss her he'd had. He forced it aside. Just hormones, a side-line of being his age. He had been strong enough not to succumb, and that was all that mattered.

Sitting in between two other cars, looking vaguely up at a red light, Kyouya entertained this one for a little longer. Perhaps that had been when it had happened? But, no, he didn't think so. He still maintained the belief that actual attraction was very far down the list after planning and a pinch of instinct. Very far down.

A very long way.

He mused that perhaps it had happened because something had happened to place those instincts into sharper relief. He had a pretty good idea of what it would be, too, if it was anything. Not so long after that day at the beach. He'd been fairly marooned, in a sea of commoners, with no phone to contact the outside world and no wallet. Thankfully, she'd come sailing in; and, with amazingly good grace, had escorted him around.

She looked at him disapprovingly over the sticky table top. At the same time, it almost seemed to be a fascination. She was surprised, he realised, that he wasn't eating with his usual grace.

But it didn't matter if anyone here saw him eating less than eloquently. There was no-one here to see him. Except Haruhi.

Only it didn't matter in front of her.

Particularly not when she had a speck of ketchup on her face that she hadn't noticed yet. She did wipe it off in the end, but it appeared to be more by accident as she scolded him about being rude to everyone.

She was the first to ever make him feel just the slightest twinges of guilt. Still, he very quickly got over it. He could have just borrowed a coin off her and rung home from a payphone, of course, but now he was here, he thought he may as well look around.

And maybe stop her looking at him in such a disappointed way. It was irritating.

He forgot his irritation, though. He couldn't help but be intrigued by the commoner culture. He'd certainly experienced foreign culture many times, but always rich culture. There were an impressive number of bizarre products.

Melon flavoured corn snacks. What was that all about?

Still, he couldn't feel it was quite inventive. After all, you could hardly cart a watermelon around because you liked the taste. He'd got her to buy them under the pretence they were for Tamaki and the twins. But Tamaki and the twins were still in his extremely bad black books. The Doomsday book. In reality, his curiosity had been aroused. And, just because he was curious, she said he was like Tamaki.

Wonderful.

He seemed to be back in her good books, at least. Then there was that thing with the fake plates, and a rather silly woman about to be duped. Fortunately, that woman had turned out to be the wife of a chairman of a large electrical company, charmed to meet a son of the Ootori family. It had all turned out to be rather advantageous, considering he'd merely hoped to stop an insult to an artist he rather liked the work of and the family which did business with his.

And, again, Haruhi had put it down to his being nice and not wanting to admit it, because she knew he hadn't known it was the chairman's wife.

Rubbish.

Yet, somehow, he liked her expression a lot more when she so comically approved of him. He didn't quite want to tell her he wasn't as nice as she seemed to think.

Kyouya pondered this for a moment as he pressed on, almost at his destination now. He'd grown to like those melon snacks, certainly, and she often brought them for him; but he still didn't think that was when it had happened. Perhaps that was the day when the dangerous thought that perhaps he could sometimes be a little nicer to people first crossed his mind, the first time he thought perhaps he could because someone else believed he could, but he didn't think that was when it happened. He turned a corner, and so did his thoughts. Perhaps it had been a lot simpler then that. Perhaps it had just happened on anyone of the nameless days in the Host Club. It certainly presented plenty of opportunity for it to happen without his noticing.

Kyouya was having serious issues with this costume.

Well, not exactly the costume itself, but more with his glasses. They were, as they frequently did, slipping down. This was not normally a problem. However, with this costume- made to Tamaki's specifications rather than the twins, he noticed- it was more troublesome. Dressing up as knights was only to be expected at some point or another, but surely, elbow joints generally came as part of the package.

Unfortunately, not in this case. Simply, none of them could move their arms higher then more-or-less their waist line. He certainly couldn't reach his face.

And his glasses were still falling down.

He attempted to tilt his head and nudge them up with his shoulder, but the armour's neck brace even prevented that. His glasses slipped further, the nose grips finally doing their job and clamping onto the end of his nose. He lifted his arm straight out in front of him, but, again, arm and face would not make contact.

He frowned. This was all rather irritating.

Suddenly, Haruhi, the only other one in the room, burst out laughing; and he suddenly became faintly aware of how ridiculous he must have looked. How unlike him, to let his guard down in such a way. He felt somewhat embarrassed at this ludicrous situation. Thankfully, she took pity on him.

"Need some help, Kyouya-senpai?" She spluttered.

"If you wouldn't mind." He said, slightly sulkily.

Then, they came to the flaw in the plan. Haruhi couldn't reach high enough either. "You're going to have to bend down." She informed him; and they then discovered the armour didn't have much in the way of knees either.

Kyouya was having serious doubts about anyone being able to win a battle in these. So, instead of elegantly kneeling, he ended up leaning forward at his waist, where the two halves of the armour lined up. Looking at the floor didn't help his glasses situation very much. At last, they slipped from his nose and hung listlessly, swinging slightly from his ears. Somehow he knew that if they fell off completely, they'd be lost. This was all annoyingly undignified.

"Hurry up." He commanded, his breath steaming up the lenses that had somehow ended up in front of his mouth.

Haruhi, on the other hand, didn't seem to find this situation as frustrating as she did amusing, in all it's absurdity. She attempted to fix things, but in order to come close enough to be of any use, Kyouya's head was practically in her stomach and she couldn't see what she was doing.

"Haruhi, I'd appreciate it very much if you would remove your fingers from my eyes."

"Ah, sorry! I can't seem to…" She trailed off, not awkward or embarrassed at all. Unlike Kyouya who, although his eyes were closed, was all to aware of her hands brushing over his face. "I'm beginning to think this wasn't such a good idea…" She muttered, echoing his thoughts. At last, she found his glasses, still hanging from his face. "Oh, here."

"Good-" Kyouya began. With his eyes closed to protect them from further injury, he hadn't realised she hadn't managed to work out how to push the spectacles up yet when she couldn't bend her arms, and so by moving his lips her fingers were almost in his mouth, lips to fingertips. He froze. She didn't seem to have noticed, and at last, his glasses were put back in place. He began to straighten up. What he hadn't realised was that, without elbows, the only way Haruhi had been able to push was to bend over slightly herself. Somehow, all he managed to do was knock her over, and tangled as they were, he fell to.

Thankfully, Haruhi was still laughing, though somewhat wryly. Then she stopped. "Oh, it's going to be so much fun to get up…" She muttered, sarcastically.

Kyouya said nothing. His glasses had fallen off.

Then again, Kyouya considered, that couldn't have been the case. On that particular occasion, his mind had been totally on the irritation that had been his glasses. And all the other days in the Host Club… he had recorded everything. Surely, if it had happened at the Host Club, it would have been dutifully written in his notebook along with everything else.

His eyebrow suddenly raised a little, as he remembered the time the twins had initiated the challenge to find out just what he wrote in that book. That was the time, after all, that was when he first gave her a gift. It wasn't totally unnatural to think perhaps that was when it had happened.

Kyouya could not believe it. Yet, the tallies did not lie. He'd agreed to this stupid competition as a form of motivation. He knew if he offered seeing the content of his notebook as a reward for the one who got the most designators that week then their rates would double. Of course, he'd been expecting to win himself as the contest was cunningly placed during the school elections, where, as class president, previous experience had shown he was much in demand. Indeed, he had seemed pretty much assured to win. Then, at the last minute, what appeared to be every girl from class 1A had burst in screaming that they had voted Haruhi for their president that year. And their 'impartial judge', Rengé- who had turned out to be more impartial then he'd hoped- had dutifully begun to tally them up.

Haruhi was the only one who hadn't been particularly bothered about knowing what was in his notebook.

Kyouya hoped that trend would continue as he sent the others away. At the very least, he could ensure they didn't hear.

"This all seems rather over the top." Haruhi remarked to him.

"I agree. Shall we leave it there, then?"

She considered, a moment of hope. Then she sighed. "I'd better just have a flick through, or one of the others will insist that, as they were second place, they should get to see."

No way out. Grudgingly, he handed it over, hoping she simply would flick through. At first, she did, not even bothering to read the columns of numbers or row upon row of words. He hoped she would stop and hand it back, but then she came across the first one.

"What's this?" She paused, looking at the small drawing.

Kyouya shrugged. "Just a doodle." He said, lightly.

"It's pretty good for a doodle…" She answered, but continued flicking through. And as the book went on, the words and numbers receded further and further up the page, doodles turned to sketches. Tamaki, somehow looking a year or two younger, playing the piano. The twins, with haircuts that made her grin manically. Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai looking the same as ever. Moments captured in pencil, them and the girls they'd been serving at the time, themed events, costumes. The early days of the club in word and drawing. Haruhi looked at them all, while Kyouya stood awkwardly. Then she stopped. One day, he had been feeling particularly artistic. The picture covered an entire page. A girl's thoughtful face was staring out. On one side, a room, rich and extravagant- Haruhi recognised it as the very room they were in now. There was someone sitting at one of the tables, though so far back in the picture she couldn't tell who. On the other side, there was a fantasy world. Hills of green with centaurs and unicorns and snakes and sphinxes and every manner of creature wheeling around it. And then, in the background, knights not unlike ones that they would one day find themselves dressed as; though he had no way of knowing that at the time he drew it. Running through these world were a few simple words:

Sometimes, she closed her eyes, and dared to dream.

"This is amazing…" Haruhi told him, sounding surprised. "You should have taken art."

"It's worth little as a pass-time and even less as a qualification." He answered, bluntly. "Although, there are several artists I hold in high regard…"

"That's not the point." Haruhi sighed. "This seriously is really good. What's it called?"

"Called?" Kyouya echoed. He hadn't really thought of that. "'What Tamaki reduced her to.'" Haruhi couldn't help but snort, so he continued. "I drew that a week or two before you joined us."

"It's very good."

"Have it, then." He answered, in the hopes this would distract her from looking any further. "Here." He snatched the book, and, to her horror, ripped the page out.

"Careful!" She yelped, but then accepted the picture. "But… thank you, Kyouya-senpai."

"You're welcome."

To his dismay, however, having put the picture carefully away, she continued to look through the ledger. Her smile faded as she wrinkled her nose. "I can't believe you drew me like that…" She said, looking at a small sketch of her pre-host-transformation. Apparently, Tamaki and the twins were beginning to rub off on her as far as the importance of appearance was concerned. She flipped over. Again. And again. Kyouya looked away, because he knew it would eventually get to a point where even Haruhi couldn't fail to notice-

"Why are they all of me?"

Kyouya shrugged coolly. "You saw that I had already been drawing the others for some time before you arrived. You were something new to draw."

She pouted, evidently a little displeased. "Well… let me draw you, then."

He was taken aback. "What?"

"I'm going to draw you." She repeated, smirking. "It's not fair if you draw me all the time. Besides, there aren't any pictures of you in this book."

Kyouya found himself agreeing, relieved that she hadn't tried to read anymore into the frequency of her appearances than his boredom.

When questioned the next day on the contents of the book, she said it was simply a lot of words and numbers, just as expected. The others were disappointed. Kyouya was relieved.

And then she gave him his portrait.

"There."

"…I can see why you didn't take art."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Or perhaps you haven't got the right contact lenses?"

"Shut up. We're not all perfect."

Once she had moved away, Kyouya took the drawing and put it carefully into his bag. Awful or not, she had evidently put a lot of effort into it. He didn't know why she had bothered, nor why he was quite so pleased she had. After all, he didn't really care, surely.

Nowadays, the picture hung on the wall of his bedroom; the one room in his house Haruhi would never venture into on her frequent visits to his home. It was safe there. And, as he had by chance discovered one afternoon, the picture he had given her hung behind the desk in her office at work. Apparently, a lot of her clients asked about it, and it was a good way to break the tension. Some even offered to buy it.

Kyouya, for his part, was a little flattered that she had kept it.

Surely, that must have been the how and when it had happened, that day when he had given her the picture. After all, they started talking more after that, and then came all those mysterious club outings that they always managed to seem to end up taking alone. It almost reminded him of all those weekend trips with Tamaki, but with far more pleasant company. The mysterious and somewhat suspicious disappearance of the other hosts on these trips were duly noted, as was the way he and Haruhi were under careful surveillance at school. Yet, even so, he didn't think something as simple as a picture could have done it. He turned down another road, more than half way there now, and wondered if perhaps it had happened somewhere on one of these outings. Some of them were ridiculously cliché, like a romance novel, after all.

The path wound further uphill. Kyouya couldn't help but think that this wasn't one of the better set-ups they'd ended up in. He didn't see much point in just walking for the sake of it. You walked to get to where you were going, or got the car to get there faster. He didn't quite understand this 'walking for leisure' business. Haruhi didn't seem to either, and yet, for whatever reason, they were both still here.

This point in the path was surrounded by wiry trees, which had foliage so thick and heavy the branches were stooped towards the ground, so low that Kyouya had to angle his head and shoulders forward in order to pass below them. He turned his head to complain of this, and found she happened to be looking to one side too, and now their faces were very close together. Extremely close together. He hadn't quite realised how close together they were with the foliage pressing in so nearly. Embarrassed, both of them turned their heads away at the same time, and this resulted in his lips brushing ever so lightly over her cheek. She didn't say anything, and neither did he, both perhaps hoping the other hadn't noticed.

Then, eventually, they had reached the top of the hill and there wasn't much else to do except talk. Then there wasn't much to talk about except their current situation.

"Do you think we'll ever be allowed to plan our own outings?" Haruhi asked, wryly; because for almost a year now they'd been invited to a 'club trip' almost every weekend and it was extremely rarely that anyone else actually made it.

Kyouya shrugged. "Perhaps. It depends if we actually would. Or, more importantly, if they think we would."

Haruhi laughed. "Well, I think we would. If only to stop them doing it."

Kyouya thought for a moment. She had a point, there. Either way, it seemed he would now be continuing to go out and about with Haruhi most weekends if he liked it or not. He might just as well do it on his own terms, and save his dignity a fraction. "Well then." He said, shrugging. "Haruhi, would you like to go out somewhere next week?"

"Certainly. Where to?"

"Wherever we feel like going." He answered, after a slight pause.

A longer pause.

"This is harder then I thought." Haruhi commented, eventually. Then she smiled wickedly. "We ought to go to somewhere stupidly romantic. That would freak them out."

"Why would it?" Kyouya feigned injury.

"Well, two straight-forward people like us doing anything remotely romantic…" She trailed off, as he watched her, eyes unreadable.

"I can be romantic." He answered, and proved it. He supposed, as they had been going on these trips for almost a year now, he really ought to kiss her. She probably expected it. So did all the others. It was only proper that he did.

So, he did.

It hadn't turned out too well when it was clear neither of them really knew what they were doing, when she was so much shorter than him and when she eventually pulled away because his glasses were pressing painfully into her face. But oh well. The job was done.

Had that been it? Had it been sealed with that first kiss? He wondered this as he crawled his way past some road works, trying to remain absorbed in memory so he wouldn't get as angry about all the hold-ups that seemed to be on the road today.

It wasn't working.

Besides, he figured, they had still only been teenagers then. That couldn't have been it. Surely, it must have come a lot later. It must have been, he supposed, the first time he took her to a formal business party as his date. After all, that was the day he really showed her and everyone else that he trusted her and her opinion. Was that it?

Then there was the small factor that she had looked so stunning, he'd almost thought he had the wrong house.

Kyouya knocked on the door to the house, frowning at it. He had never liked to think of her living here, in student digs, even one of a law school. Still, it was only a few more weeks. Soon, she'd be a fully qualified lawyer, and woe betide any law-breakers once she was. She had a good reputation already as one of the keenest minds and fiercest debaters, seeing things no-one else could. He knew very well she'd be very different to the other young women that would be at this party, the type usually favoured by business men. He couldn't imagine her in with the older women either, who all, for some reason, reminded him of Lady Macbeth. And all of those women would be dolled up to the eyeballs, in elegant make up and dresses and all the rest. Haruhi, although she would dress smartly, would no doubt make them stand out. He'd be lucky if she had picked out something other than a trouser-suit.

Still, he supposed that would be a good thing. He was quite happy to get noticed, as he represented his father and older brothers, in the hope it might give him another step up in the endless race for inheritance.

And then she opened the door. He couldn't help but stare.

"Haruhi…" He got out eventually. "What are you wearing?"

"It's called an evening dress. You may have heard of it." She deadpanned. It was long, a very light blue, elegant; over shoes he had never thought she would have owned. He hadn't quite realised how nice a figure she had in the clothes she normally favoured, but the dress hung wonderfully, as if it had been made for her; or as if she wore this sort of thing all the time. He realised she was wearing light make up too, carefully applied; and though she hadn't grown her hair more then a centimetre or two since high school, she'd done…something to it. He wasn't quite sure what, he wasn't good with hairstyles, but that too looked great without being over the top. That was the outfit all over, actually, just the right thing for a 'new face', a 'young and inexperienced' woman to wear at this sort of thing. To look beautiful, but not in a way that made it seem like she wanted to be noticed or outshine anything else. It was just right. Perfect, in fact. He was impressed.

"Is it alright?" Haruhi checked, noticing he still hadn't said anything. "I could change if this isn't up to standard."

"No." Kyouya assured her, hastily. "I was just impressed at how well you've done. It really is just the right thing. Extremely appropriate. Anyone would think you'd done this before…"

She caught the note of suspicion in his voice and frowned at him. "You're making it sound like I don't know how to dress myself. You sound surprised that I clean up so well. Even I can make an effort sometimes, you… Hey! What are you doing?" But there was a quake in her voice that suggested she was dangerously close to laughing as Kyouya brushed past her into the house and opened the door to the living room.

"Thank you, you two." He said, evenly.

"You're welcome!"

Kyouya turned back to Haruhi, eyebrow raised. "You know how to dress yourself, do you?"

She held her hands up in protest. "I have no idea what they're doing here, I swear." She said, chuckling a little, as Hikaru and Kaoru emerged from the sitting room and cast a final critical eye over her.

"What do you reckon, then, Kyouya-senpai?" Hikaru asked, tone lined with suspicion as he slung an arm round the other's neck. Kaoru, meanwhile, had moved over to Haruhi and was fussing over the hemline of the dress. "You wouldn't think it was our plain, drab little Haruhi, would you? Now she's a real dream, ne?"

"She does look great." Kyouya answered, not getting half as embarrassed as Hikaru would have liked. "I suppose you agreed on the condition that she tells everyone who made the dress?"

"Partly." Kaoru admitted, satisfied at last.

"But we would have done it anyway as it meant we got to watch Haruhi dress…" Hikaru added into Kyouya's ear.

Kyouya didn't react, merely saying that they'd better leave immediately or they'd be late; and that the twins had better go too so Haruhi could lock up.

He frowned a bit at this. Yes, she had looked beautiful, but he hated to think it could have happened to him over something so… superficial. He snorted a little as this thought wandered across his mind, slow moving as the tractor he was now stuck behind, dropping hay on his bonnet. Everything in his life was purely superficial, except her. And that was why it was now irking him so much trying to find out how and when and why it had happened. Perhaps, he considered, it had happened not so long after they had graduated from university, after the expected period of celebrating with family and friends, and, tired, they had settled one Friday night for a simple meal in her simple home- and, because she was now out of University, this was the home she had grown up in. He remembered gathering around that simple table with her and her father, and relaxing. That had been almost a miracle in itself.

"Ahhh, Haruhi, this tastes great!" Ranka cried happily, waving his chopsticks. "However did I manage without you and your cooking when you were away at University?"

"Well, there would have been more of it if you'd warned me we were going to have company." She replied, clearly still a little irritated that Ranka had invited Kyouya and forgotten to inform her until the man in question was at the door.

"I'm sorry, Haruhi… I forgot in all the excitement." Ranka looked serious for a moment, but was quickly perked up again. "Besides, I haven't spoken to Kyouya-kun since he left High School! It's only fair that I get to see him too, when you've been dating since you were sixteen."

She looked at him sideways. "Dad, we may have been set-up when I was sixteen, but it was well after that when we actually started going out. Besides…" Both men could sense her irritation growing. "We didn't even tell you till I left school."

"Ha ha, that's right, isn't it? Silly me. Mmm…" Ranka quickly and rather suspiciously changed the subject. "This tastes so good! Wouldn't you say, Kyouya-kun…?"

"Wonderful." He agreed, having finished his food and wiping his face with a napkin. "Thank you very much, Haruhi. Evidently, your first-class honours would extend beyond law."

"Thank you, doctor." She teased back. He smiled a little at her. He'd had to do an extra year then she had, with the result they'd graduated at the same time, but he did indeed get to now put a 'Dr' in front of his name. After all, you could hardly manage hospitals without any medical knowledge. "I'll just go and get dessert."

"What is it?" Ranka asked, eagerly.

"Well, it's those small sponges you like, with the sauce." Haruhi answered. "Unfortunately, I only got two."

Ranka sighed. The words obviously pained him. "Oh… Then, I shall have to forgo…"

"I don't mind." Kyouya assured him. "You have it. I have, after all, eaten your food."

"No, you're the guest!" Ranka said, horrified. "Kyouya, you must have the pudding!"

"Besides," Haruhi smiled serenely at Kyouya. "It's his fault I didn't buy enough."

"I-"

"Kyouya, eat the pudding!" The two insisted, so forcefully he could do nothing but comply. As they did so, the conversation got back to more normal territory.

"First class honours." Kyouya pointed out, at one point when Haruhi was attempting to be modest. "That doesn't come without work."

"Unless you're the twins, and take 'Fashion and Design'." Haruhi pointed out. Kyouya nodded.

"Granted." Then, he added "It always amazes me that idiot got through okay."

"I really didn't think he'd make it when he was stressing out over those exams." Haruhi admitted, smirking. "'All this paper! It's everywhere! Think of the trees! And I shall be buried! Consumed!'" She laughed again.

"I guess he knows more then we think." Ranka shrugged. "I was so happy to be invited to his ceremony last year!"

They blinked at him.

"Since when have you liked Tamaki?" Haruhi asked, curiously.

"I've always liked him!" Ranka declared. "I knew he just wants you to be happy, Haruhi!"

She looked back, unimpressed. "Then why do you beat him to a pulp every time he comes near?"

"He has to know where he stands." Ranka looked at Kyouya appealingly. "Right? You appreciated me swatting that insect, didn't you, Kyouya-kun?"

"Quite." Kyouya nodded empathetically and the conversation veered away. He just stayed there and talked with them. He didn't have to worry about what he was saying- it wasn't like they'd be annoyed if his opinion disagreed with theirs. He didn't have to worry about the image he was presenting or carefully flattering them, concealing boasting, or any of those other things society often asked of him. They just talked. Ranka laughed a lot, Haruhi was smiling, and even Kyouya found his mouth twitching in amusement. The man was certainly charismatic. He'd missed speaking to him too, in a bizarre way. That simple evening in the Fujioka household was one of the best ones. He couldn't help but hope it would happen again. Just once or twice.

As nice at those occasions were, when he could just relax in her company, Kyouya didn't think it could have happened then. Seeking an exit from the roundabout he'd inadvertently stumbled into trying to get out from behind the tractor, he realised he didn't know too much about it, but if it was meant to be something so spectacular and all the rest, he didn't think it could happen in circumstances that felt so ordinary, so right. Perhaps, then, it had happened on the day they'd shared that was the furthest from ordinary. Yet, even that seemed a little mundane…

"I'm a little busy." She said, evidently frustrated, as she brushed past him and into the kitchen.

"What's the hurry?" he answered, a little irritably, as she came out of the kitchen and disappeared into the sitting room. This time he followed her. "I thought you wanted to celebrate this new job of yours."

"Of course I do." She answered, wrestling with one of the cupboards. He recalled her phoning him at work just a week or two before, ecstatic because she had passed her interview and now had a position in one of the major law firms. However, they were both busy people, and although she started on Monday they hadn't as of yet done anything in celebration. Yet, he'd turned up at the house she was renting with an old friend from Uni, and she was dashing madly about. Thankfully, she was about to offer an explanation. "But my friend called today- and she's moving in tomorrow morning rather then next week. So I have to get this place straightened up!"

"Frankly, it's just inconsiderate of her." Kyouya reminded her, raising an eyebrow. "If she has to move into a messy house then it's her fault for not giving you proper notification. Besides… this place looks clean to me."

"Just because there isn't stuff lying around doesn't mean it's clean." She informed him, pulling some polish out of the back of the cupboard at last. "Dust. Dirt. Gunge. My best friends."

"Haruhi." He said, a little impatiently. "Are we going to go out or should I just go back to work?"

She looked at him, rolling her eyes. "I'm not going to have time, I'm sorry." He must have looked unhappy, because, suddenly, her eyes glinted a little. "Although, you know what they say…"

"What?" Kyouya asked, innocently.

"They say 'Two heads are better than one'," Haruhi said, advancing on him. "'Many hands make light work'…"

"No." Kyouya said, flatly, but then found her forcing a can of polish into his hands.

"And Tamaki-senpai's favourite- 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'. And when at my house, do as I do." She chuckled a little as his face. "You polish. I'll vacuum."

"Haruhi, you can't seriously expect-"

"I do."

"This is maid's work."

"Oh, but I'm sure you'll be good at it…"

Kyouya gave up at this point. The girl was stubborn. After a few minor arguments with the polish can, he wiped everything over. He didn't know if he was doing it right- was it supposed to make his hands smell like the polish? And why was the duster getting so annoyingly wet so fast? But, he did his best. He couldn't say he enjoyed it, but he couldn't help but smile a little in amusement. Someone back in high school must have rubbed off on Haruhi, because she'd become just a little less serious over the years. Neither of them had much in a way of a sense of humour, but it was nice occasionally. He could never quite decide if he liked her teasing him or not, particularly when he couldn't quite tell when she was and when she wasn't. She certainly was crafty, though, getting him, of all people, to do her dirty work…

Suddenly, he heard her laughing from the doorway, where she had been dragging the vacuum in to do this room next. He glared at her.

"Sorry… I just didn't expect you to actually do it… And so seriously!"

He sprayed the polish at her in retaliation and the hope she'd go away. Next thing he knew she was vacuuming his feet. He looked down at her.

"Stop that."

"No."

"Haruhi… Remove your vacuum."

"Alright. But only because we're in a rush and you're surprisingly handy with a duster."

"Don't expect this often. Just this once."

"Once is enough." She answered, suddenly gaining an odd expression. "Did you find that duster on the sofa, by the way?"

"Yes."

"Ah. It's my shirt."

Kyouya smiled for a brief moment at the memory. Even so, as he slowed down into a residential area, he couldn't help but feel that wasn't when it happened. After all, the entire time he'd known her she'd been a 'commoner'; and to do the housework was to be expected. In addition, he hadn't relished the work, nor having a vacuum cleaner attempting to eat him. Surely, it couldn't have happened when he was irritated. Then again, he had already established it hadn't happened when he was relaxed. Perhaps, then, it had happened when she had impressed him so ridiculously? She had been so worried about eating dinner with his family- even Kyouya wasn't terribly pleased about it, and he was used to them. Yet, by then three years into her job, she had more then held her own in that terribly stiff, terribly formal atmosphere.

Spoons clinked on dishes, but not too much. As little noise as possible was always made when eating here. Even Haruhi was catching on, and placed her glass back down on the table without it making a sound. Finally, something Tamaki had shown her many years ago was worth something. She'd have to tell him, because he'd be ecstatic. Yet, that was all beside the point right now.

She had always envied Kyouya a little, having such a large family, and now there were no fewer than ten of them seated around that table; all four Ootori children and their respective partners as well as their parents. However, she had hoped that the conversation would be a little more interesting. She'd spoken at the start, as she had been through all the pleasantries of enquiring about people she'd never met before, and the health of those she had, and all the rest. She knew Kyouya hadn't exactly been looking forward to this meal, and now she could see why- and, more to the point, why he hadn't let her meet them before. It was so stiff and business like between the family members. The only real affection seemed to come from Fuyumi, his sister, and even that had been somewhat stifled as the dinner had worn on. Fuyumi had been so terribly glad to meet Haruhi at last, and yet, the older woman was beginning to wish the younger hadn't come. After all, she didn't want her to be put off and Kyouya to be all alone again…

The conversation veered into an extremely familiar track. Their father was not many years away from retiring, and while all three boys worked with him at the moment as equals the question, as always, was who would succeed. Who got the company when he was gone?

"I can't think of it." Their father said, stiffly. "Each of you have your own attributes. So why not tell me? What do you all think?" He nodded at his eldest son, indicating he should go first.

"Well, father, it's hard to say… I can't deny I want to take over. I also happen to think that, with my experience, I could do well. However, I've seen Akito and Kyouya… I could not dismiss their qualities."

The second son took up the narration as everyone turned to him. "I agree. When all's said and done, father, I'm sure you'll make the right decision. But I cannot deny either I would like to inherit."

"Kyouya?"

"Both my brothers are very skilled." He said, simply. "They also have the benefit of experience. Then again, I am also very skilled; and I've been managing in one form or another since I was fourteen."

"That idiotic club?"

"I assure you, father, after dealing with those idiocies, I am extremely well equipped to deal with anything that could come up."

Haruhi silently agreed with him whole-heartedly. No matter what came at him, she was sure Kyouya's life would never be as unpredictable or whimsical as Tamaki and the girls they were trying to please.

"These are all things I have already taken into account." Their father was saying. "It's a terribly hard decision…"

"This is the problem with being rich." Haruhi said suddenly, accidentally voicing her thoughts aloud. They all stared at her.

"Excuse me, Fujioka-chan?"

"Oh, sorry." She answered, but seemed to realise it was too late now, and with her trademark bluntness continued. Kyouya wished and wished she wouldn't. "I just bet all of you had your own toys."

Silence.

"Haruhi." Kyouya said, in a low voice. "What are you talking about?"

"I just mean you've never had any reason to learn to share."

They all looked at her.

"It's quite simple, if you'll excuse me for saying. Your hospitals are all over Japan, and Japan is separated into islands, is it not? So why not let each of them manage your hospitals on one of the islands?"

There was further silence. Kyouya removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, unable to believe she'd said that. But there was nothing for it but to let her dig her own grave and hopefully pull her out when nobody was watching. At length, his father spoke.

"You may have noticed, Fujioka-chan, that I have three sons while Japan has four islands." He said, flatly. And she stared right back at him, and replied, quite determinedly:

"Yes, but you also have a daughter. With all respect, Ootori-san, in today's world it is quite usual to have women in high positions; indeed, it could be quite beneficial under a lot of circumstances, as people tend to be more responsive to women during business negotiations."

Kyouya couldn't help but steal a look at Fuyumi, who was looking suitably surprised- and, more open with her emotions, about as mortified as he himself was feeling. Yet, he noticed a little hint of admiration too. Kyouya didn't share that. Haruhi had dug her grave so deep she'd be melting in the heat of Earth's core by now. Indeed, his father was glaring at her so harshly it could curdle milk.

"Well, aren't you clever? What of our international exploits then?"

She, as always, remained oblivious to the fraying temper, the challenge in his voice. Either oblivious or impervious. And, as much as Kyouya hoped his father had stumped her- for her sake- Haruhi came right out with an answer.

"You must already have managers in place to look after your assets in each country. Simply make a share of them accountable to each of your children."

Silence.

"I'm sure disputes wouldn't be a problem." Haruhi added, finally. "After all, your sons have been working together for some time now without difficulty."

More silence. Yawning. Empty. Intense.

Haruhi drank some water, still oblivious.

"Fujioka-chan." His father said, quietly. "You are really… You have the audacity to come into my house, as my guest, with my family and eat with us before challenging and insulting how we do things. I'm sure you realise how important the Ootori group is, and what we could do to you, and yet you are reckless enough to say these things." He looked at Haruhi unblinkingly. Then he raised his glass. Kyouya tensed, assuming the worst, but instead his father merely added: "I admire your courage- and intelligence. Here's to you… Haruhi."

Kyouya was relieved. Then amazed. Then exasperated.

Somehow, in that short exchange, it seemed Haruhi had settled an argument that spanned years.

"Perhaps I should let you take over instead." His father remarked, coolly. They could only hope he was joking.

Kyouya slid to a halt at a pedestrian crossing. He'd managed to come at just the wrong time, as kids were streaming out of a local primary school. They were all staring as the sleek black car, too. He ignored them, and thought back on that meal. Of course, that had been the turning point, and Haruhi's ideas had been more-or-less adopted; though he'd had to battle hard to get to take over this portion of Japan, so he didn't have to leave the house he'd been settled in since university. He lived there still, and Haruhi would come quite often, saying his home was more relaxed then her chaotic house full of papers left about in no real place. Tamaki would sometimes appear too, always noticing the slightest change in décor. Yet, Kyouya had still only taken Haruhi to his parent's home on that single occasion. And then he'd simply been proud, and pretty exasperated, so that couldn't have been when it had happened. He'd been far too stressed anyway. Perhaps, then, it had happened when he'd seen it happen to someone else?

"Kyouya! Tamaki-senpai!"

"Good evening, Haruhi."

"Haruhi, it's been years since school… Don't call me senpai."

She raised her eyebrows. "Sorry, no can do. I remember how depressed you got that summer, when you all met Arai-kun."

"That's because you just said I was 'some guy you knew'! I was hurt!"

"Well, you said not to call you senpai."

"You called everyone else your friend, I hoped-"

Kyouya rubbed his forehead, wondering why these two always seemed to end up bickering about the old days- and why they seemed to enjoy it. Tamaki had long since given up on Haruhi, stopped loving her in 'that' way; but even now they were all adults he couldn't quite drop his overprotective habits over their old friends, and in particular Haruhi. Hence why they were here, at some awful party- an invitation to which Kyouya had intended to decline- because Haruhi was here too, and 'anything could happen'.

However, Tamaki wouldn't be looking out for Haruhi too much longer. He was about to be rather distracted.

"I didn't realise you two were coming." Haruhi was saying, about to scold them further, when she spotted someone. "Oh, hey! Lulu!" She beckoned to her. "Come and join us…"

"Hello, everyone…" The woman said, looking round at them all. She smiled slightly as well, and seemed to emit a somewhat calming aura; in this electric atmosphere.

"This is Kyouya, and Tamaki-sen… Ah, Tamaki."

"Ah…" She said, looking Tamaki up and down. "So you're the one who made Haruhi dress like a boy?"

"I-!"

"And, Kyouya-san. It's nice to meet you at last."

"You too."

Tamaki was still spluttering. Eventually, Lulu let him off the hook.

"I'm sure she brought a lot of happiness that way. And from what I hear, it seems you're the reason she met Kyouya-san, and the twins, and all the others. So thank you."

"Lulu!" Haruhi hissed at her. "Goodness. Ignore her- she's one of the crazy American artistic types…"

"An artist?" Tamaki asked, impressed despite himself. "What sort of art do you do?"

"Um…" She said, shyly. "Well, actually, that's why I was invited… I did the works in this room."

"Really? They're very impressive!"

"Oh, no…"

"Yes, they really are! You're very good!"

"Oh, I'm really not… I can't even making a living off them… I actually work in a textiles factory. I make sure all the curtains are the same length." She shrugged sheepishly. "Glamorous, isn't it? I'm just friendly with the owner of this place… I gave her a picture for her birthday, and she wanted some more…"

"Lulu! There's no shame- curtains must be the same length! But… It's a disgrace! Talent like yours should not be wasted!"

The two continued to talk, although it was beginning to seem like Tamaki wasn't doing much in the way of listening. Yet, something in the way they were looking at each other… Haruhi noticed too, and smirked at Kyouya. She muttered into his ear.

"She doesn't normally talk very much at all…"

"Yes, and now Tamaki's got started, I daresay this could take a while."

"Ditch?"

"Yes."

They quietly moved off into another part of the room. Suddenly, Haruhi smiled up at him.

"Hey, remember when you gave me that picture? And all those ones you did in High School? Tamaki-senpai would be outraged that your talent went to waste. You should show them to him one day, anyway."

"I will, one day."

"…You have no intention of doing any such thing."

"Absolutely none."

Kyouya took his time now he was out of the town and in the country side, navigating roads as long and winding as his current train of thought. Tamaki had, naturally, seen a lot more of Lulu after that. A lot, lot more. It have been seven years that they'd been married now, and two young children to boot. Kyouya sighed at this, thinking, as he usually did, that the idiot should never have been allowed to spawn. Still, what had been done could not be undone- and neither could it, now it had happened. Even so, he didn't think it had happened then. They'd been far to caught up in what Tamaki was getting up to, falling so totally for Lulu. Whenever it had happened, it certainly hadn't happened like that. Maybe, then, it had taken a time when he had thought he would lose it for it to appear in the first place.

He scowled a little. He didn't like recalling the more unpleasant events, particularly this one. He and Haruhi were constantly disagreeing, in fact, it was rare they agreed on anything; but occasionally it would become a little more of a problem. Even on those occasions, they always carried on as normal afterwards, if a lot more tense, and eventually they'd move on. There had only been one occasion when things had played out a little differently; and all Kyouya knew of it was two separate phone calls.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kyouya."

He smiled a little, but it quickly faded, as he attempted to balance the phone and continue with his work. "Haruhi? What is it?"

"I was just wondering if I could come round."

"Haruhi, I'm still at work."

"Oh." She paused. "Are you finishing any time soon?"

"No." He snapped irritably. "There's too much to do. Sorry."

For some reason, she persisted. "Kyouya, why not leave early? Please, can I come round?"

He was somewhat troubled by now. "Is something bothering you?"

"…No, nothing. I just want to come round."

"Haruhi." He said, firmly, surprised she was acting so childishly. "Try not to be unreasonable. I can't just drop everything and go home on your demand. I'll see you on Saturday, as planned. Okay?"

"…Fine. Goodbye, then."

Kyouya thought no more of that phone call until hours later, just as he was about to go to bed, when he received another one. This time, it was Tamaki, and he was none too pleased.

"Tamaki." He said, icily. "I was just about to go to bed. So keep this brief."

"Alright." Tamaki answered, sounding surprisingly angry. "I'll ask a simple question. Why is Haruhi here?"

That threw Kyouya a little- it surprised him that she'd have gone round to Tamaki's instead. Still, he trusted them both and was hardly likely to suspect any foul play. So he merely shrugged, though Tamaki could not hear, and answered "I suspect she was lonely, or bored."

"Idiot!" Tamaki fumed. "I know why she was so anxious not to be alone tonight, and I know why she is going to attempt to sleep on one of my sofas tonight and I know exactly why she feels stupid for being worried! What I don't know is why you don't know and why Haruhi has had to come here instead of to you!"

Kyouya couldn't even retaliate at the moment. His blood was running cold. He gripped the phone tighter. "Never mind that! Stop reprimanding me and tell me what's happened!"

"She had a brick thrown through her window. There was a note wrapped round it too, saying the most awful things, and threatening to kill her."

"You're exaggerating." Kyouya accused, sharply. "Okay, I should have gone home. And I know she's had some verbal abuse, but I assume she can manage that on her own, she's a very-"

"She's been crying Kyouya. And I am not exaggerating." Tamaki said, bluntly. "Not that she's cried while she's been here, but her eyes were red. She thinks it's those yobs off her street, the customers of that drug dealer she got sent down; also their supplier of alcohol, I'm willing to bet. She doesn't think they'll actually do anything, She thinks they're just trying to scare her, but it's unnerved her a bit."

Kyouya was quiet for quite some time. Then he simply begged "Let me speak to her."

However, the next voice he heard, after a sizeable delay, was Tamaki's.

"Sorry. She won't."

"What? Tamaki, go and get her!"

"I tried. She said she didn't want to deal with you right now and to tell you that she'll see you on Saturday, as planned."

Kyouya winced mentally. That one stung a little. He sank down into a chair, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do now. "She never told me." He said, defensively. "I asked her if everything was okay- she said it was… If I'd known-"

"To be fair," Tamaki interrupted, gently, in one of his rare moments of wisdom. "It's not something you'd like to share over the phone, is it? Did you not wonder why she was so desperate to see you- has she ever been before? Besides, perhaps she'd like to think it would take less then a death threat for you to spend time with her."

"…What do I do now?"

"Prove her wrong." Tamaki told him. "Start by telling her you love her."

"I…" Kyouya swallowed, and then concluded with, "I'll come and pick her up in the morning."

"Fine, but not too early. I think we're in for a sleepless night."

"Whatever. See you tomorrow."

Tamaki and Haruhi were not the only ones that had a sleepless night. By the time Kyouya drove over towards Tamaki's the next day, Haruhi's damaged window had been replaced, her house cleaned. The ones that had threatened her were under police custody, and the ring leader seemed a little worse for wear; as if a peed off man had hit him as hard as he could. Kyouya had got it all sorted out- just so he could prove her wrong.

Now, making that same journey, Kyouya reasoned that couldn't have been it; because he'd been forced into his best behaviour until she forgave him. Which she did, surprisingly easily. But what little he knew of it dictated it wasn't meant to be easy, and once it had happened the two involved were constantly shoulder-to-shoulder, united, not head-to-head. The adversity was meant to come from elsewhere, not from one another. So that occasion couldn't have been it either.

Perhaps it was those times when she'd phone him just because she was bored at work.

Or maybe it had happened when she smiled at him like she knew something he didn't, still thinking he was a better person then he'd ever be.

It could have happened when she would walk around her house singing so appallingly just because she wanted to. Maybe it was the first time she was relaxed enough to sing (in the widest possible sense of the word) at his house. One thing he'd learnt was that on no account should Haruhi be let loose on a melody.

Maybe just seeing her happy had brought it on.

Perhaps it was when she insisted on buying him those melon-flavoured corn snacks, and forcing him to eat them, delighted when he did because she knew he liked them. Perhaps it was when he forced strawberries upon her in return; or when they met up for breakfast and she'd so irritatingly spread butter on top of the croissant because she couldn't be bothered to cut them open.

It could always be those days when he saw her come out of work, flushed with success, and saw another triumph, before she spotted him and frowned or smiled or scolded or disapproved or laughed. It could possibly just be how easily read most of her emotions were.

But Kyouya didn't think it was any of those things. It couldn't be any of those things, they were all too small- and it was meant to be enormous, the biggest deal ever, meant to make the world go round.

He pulled up at last, and realised with annoyance that despite spending the entire journey trying to work it out, he still hadn't figured quite why or how or when he had managed to fall in love with Haruhi. He wasn't even quite sure when he had realised he had. He had absolutely no idea how it had happened. This was unusual to him. He was sure of most things, not just sure, certain. He always knew, indeed, had always known, exactly where he had come from, where he was heading, and what he would achieve in between. But this… she… had just walked into the room one day, come from nowhere. And now this. Somewhere along the line, he- of all people!- had managed to fall in love.

It irritated him immensely.

Still, he was thinking far too much about Haruhi. He needed to set his mind on tackling the force in front of him. Bracing himself, Kyouya rang the bell fixed to the large gates of the home of the Suohs.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"What?!" Tamaki erupted. "What did you say?!"

"You heard what I said, Tamaki." Kyouya replied, coolly, sipping from his tea. "I'm not going to repeat myself." He studied the tea so he wouldn't have to look at the man's face. It was good tea. He really ought to find out what brand they used, but then, he probably didn't want to know in case the source was suspicious. The two were seated out on Tamaki's patio in the late afternoon sun, facing towards the rather extensive grounds. It had almost been worth the ridiculously long drive to be back in the country air. These meetings were quite frequent, either at his home or here at Tamaki's. Normally, though, when here, they would also involve Lulu and Tamaki's three year old son. Kyouya wasn't too keen on that. However, today it was just the idiot himself, and he seemed perpetually surprised.

"I never thought you would!" Tamaki was burbling, quite happily. "Oh, at last! Oh, how wonderful! You've only been dating her twenty years!"

"It has not been twenty years." Kyouya snapped, irritably. Tamaki raised his eyebrows a little. "…Fifteen." Kyouya admitted, eventually.

"Precisely!" Tamaki slammed a hand down on the little table between them. "Fifteen years! Out of all of us, you were the one who ended up with your first love, and yet there's been all this dilly-dallying! Everyone else has managed! The twins managed to accept others into their hearts and lives before you did! Even Honey's found someone! Even Mori managed to say those words! I've been rather worried about you, Kyouya- I was beginning to think you learnt nothing in the host club!"

"Oh, come on." Kyouya grumbled. "You cannot seriously be pretending there was anything of any educational merit in that club." He sipped his tea, and then added, casually "Besides, Hikaru's not married either."

Tamaki shuddered a little, and Kyouya smirked. If there was one thing guarantied to distract Tamaki from whatever he was ranting about at the time, it was the subject of Hikaru's 'shameful cohabitation'.

"Yes, and he should be ashamed! It is unacceptable that he should keep living this way! Living this way with her! In the same house! Without being married! They've been together long enough! He says he loves her! If he loved her, he would marry her! It is shameful, absolutely disgusting! To think he, who we worked so hard to teach how to treat women, would keep her confined in a house with him and take advantage and not even offer her a ring is absolutely…" He suddenly looked at Kyouya suspiciously. "Appaling… And you! Stop making him your scapegoat!"

Kyouya was surprised- Tamaki didn't normally run out of steam that fast. "I wasn't. I was merely reminding you I am not the only one who is still unmarried. So is Hikaru- and Haruhi, for that matter. That's half the club."

"Well, not for much longer!" Tamaki said, suddenly all smiles again. "I'm so relieved you've finally decided to ask her! What are you going to say?"

Kyouya looked at him quizzically. What an odd question. "I'd hazard a guess at 'Will you marry me?'." He answered, calmly.

At this cool response, Tamaki was practically tearing his hair out. "Kyouya! It's not a business proposition! She won't say yes if you ask her like that!"

Kyouya looked at him, but said nothing, so Tamaki felt pushed to continue.

"You're lucky she hasn't left you already! You're so hideously unromantic! It's a disgrace, Kyouya!"

Kyouya, for his part, was beginning to sense Tamaki felt rather strongly about all this.

"Did you never stop to wonder why we all set you and her up?! Back in those days, we all still loved her, you know! But we could see she had chosen you, and we wanted her to be happy- and, more to the point, we trusted you to make her happy! But this is getting ridiculous! She won't wait for you and your emotional constipation forever! You have to do something!"

"I intend to." Kyouya sighed lightly. "That's what we were discussing. But if I can't just ask her, what would you suggest?"

"Oh, use your imagination…" Tamaki sighed in exasperation. "Romantic music! And say something romantic! Ask her and kiss her! You must know these things…"

Kyouya was feeling a little dubious. "Tamaki, I doubt Haruhi would want any of those things…"

"Kyouya." Tamaki said, suddenly deceptively calm. "This is one of my few areas of expertise. Trust me when I say that no matter what Haruhi says, and what her normal tastes are, everyone wants their proposal to be romantic and perfect. You have to do it right or she will say no."

Kyouya still felt a little doubtful. Yet… "Do you think she would?"

Tamaki nodded earnestly. "You, and Haruhi, are some of my best friends. I've wanted to see you get married for the last decade and I assure you, I wouldn't say that if I hadn't given it some thought."

"Really…"

"Admit it, you need help, or you wouldn't have mentioned your intentions." Tamaki grinned despairingly at him. "And you are in dire need of help. I bet you're one of these really stiff couples that rarely kiss or cuddle, aren't you?"

"…Shut up."

Kyouya considered. It was true that Tamaki had always had more of a clue about these things then he did, and he hadn't seen his friend quite this excited since he had first arrived in Japan. Many people didn't believe it, but the idiot had toned down somewhat since leaving middle school, and more so since leaving school all together. As for Haruhi… well, she wasn't normal at all. She was special, so that probably did warrant something special.

He frowned. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened, nor how it had suddenly become so very difficult.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Kyouya took Tamaki's advise. It was a historic occasion. Yet, so far, all was going to plan. He'd taken Haruhi to some sort of fancy restaurant, who's food he was quite fond of. Haruhi, for her part, had gradually become used to this sort of setting between her money and his, and so seemed quite comfortable. She seemed to be enjoying her food too. Not that she'd say any more about it then was required. Her weakness for good food was, as far as she knew, still absolutely 'secret'. He, however, knew the right meal would make her happy for a week. It was cute.

No, not cute. Cute was such a vulgar word… It made him sound positively like Tamaki. Her habit was endearing. That was better.

He, on the other hand, was not enjoying the meal quite so much. Any second now, it would be time to take the plunge. They'd play that music he'd requested, and it'd be time. He was dreading it. He wasn't nervous- no, he was not, because he was never nervous.

But he wasn't relishing the thought. He just wanted to get it over with.

It had been hard enough finding the music to begin with. Romantic slop was hardly to his taste- to the extent that he hadn't been able to think of a single song in it's own right. Thankfully, he wasn't unknown to unwind with a film occasionally, and he'd finally found one with a song that would work; though he wasn't sure if it was a 'true and deep representation of his feelings'. Then, as if summoned by his thoughts, the song began to play.

" For your eyes only can see me through the night, from your eyes only I never need to hide…"

Haruhi cocked her head, and he realised she was paying attention to the song. He swallowed.

"Isn't this off a James Bond film?" She wondered. "What an odd thing to play."

He coughed a little awkwardly. "Actually… I requested it."

"You can see so much in me, so much in me that's new, I never felt till I looked at you…"

She blinked at him. "Oh…um… Why?"

He wanted to say something brilliant, something 'romantic', but he couldn't quite bring himself to. "…It reminds me of you." He came out with, eventually.

"A action movie makes you think of me?" She said, sounding understandably confused. Kyouya sighed- evidently she was going to remain as oblivious as ever and not make this easy for him at all.

"No… I meant… the sentiment."

She blinked. Kyouya rubbed his forehead in frustration. He was just going to have to bite the bullet and do it.

"For your eyes only, only for you, you'll see what no-one else can see, now I'm breaking free, for your eyes only…"

In addition, the song was getting on his nerves. It was so simpering. And now he was going to have to simper himself. He hoped he could still remember how- it had been many a year since he had played at charming women in high school.

"Haruhi, I asked them to play this song for you. Well, for us. I asked them to play this song because I wanted to make tonight special. You're special to me, so it's only fitting that I do something special occasionally, although even if I got every treasure in the world, pulled every star from the sky, it wouldn't be as precious as you are to me. I wanted something that would make the evening memorable, because I would die if you forgot me. I want to be in your memories, I want to build happy memories with you, and fill every last corner of my mind with you. You amaze me, and, just once, I wanted to amaze you."

He stopped, because he couldn't think of anything more. Haruhi merely stared back at him, face unreadable and saying nothing.

"Only for you, the love I know you need in me, the fantasy you freed in me, only for you, only for you."

She burst out laughing.

He raised an eyebrow, hurt.

"Don't give me that look!" She protested, sipping her drink in an attempt to calm herself. "It's just… You've been getting advice off Tamaki-senpai again, haven't you?"

Kyouya said nothing. She was unable to stop laughing, and in the attempt, managed to slop a little drink on herself.

"All this time and I still can't drink." She grumbled, although still laughing. She stood, and Kyouya could see a damp spot on her leg; not much, but enough to be annoying if she didn't go and clean it. She excused herself.

Kyouya was left listening to the rest of the song by himself. And he hadn't had chance to ask her yet. But, right then, someone else was on his mind. He pulled out his phone and dialled a number.

"Ah! Kyouya! Have you asked her?"

"No, you idiot! And it's your fault!"

Tamaki was confused. "Excuse me?"

"Well, Tamaki, I tried all your romantic crap, and do you know what she did?" He growled.

"Oh… she didn't cry, did she? Because she could have just been touched, you know…" Tamaki answered, optimistic and oblivious to his fate.

Kyouya was ready to kill him.

"She laughed, you fool! She thought it was hilarious! And she guessed right away it was your doing! She laughed so much she spilt drink on herself, and so now she's had to excuse herself, and I'm left here talking to you. I don't understand why you have to overcomplicate things, Tamaki! I should have just asked her to marry me and have been done with it!"

"I tell you what. I'll come back in a minute…" She mumbled, embarrassed, having returned to the table at precisely the wrong moment.

Kyouya stared. "Haruhi…"

"Ah, go on Kyouya!" Tamaki cheered from the end of the line. "Ask her now!"

Kyouya hung up, and dropped his gaze. Embarrassed, he couldn't even look at her, let alone ask her. She didn't leave, but sat back down at the table. Neither of them spoke for a minute.

"Um, should we order dessert?" She tried, at length, and glad to move into new waters, Kyouya readily agreed. He found himself wondering, yet again, why he had allowed himself to get into this situation. It seemed to have come at him from nowhere. He had no idea how it had happened.

They talked. Not about anything important, and haltingly, awkwardly. He was almost relieved when her phone began to ring. Almost. Then he saw her face.

"I see. Thank you. I'm on my way." She hung up. Then she looked at him, seeming a tiny bit pale. "Kyouya. Could you take me to the hospital, please?"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

It seemed Ranka's somewhat wild lifestyle had finally caught up with him, so it didn't help that the man was not getting any younger. It had been a paramedic on the other end of the line. Her father had been hospitalised.

Now, they sat outside his room. They'd been called at the restaurant, and yet, they hadn't been allowed into his room. Kyouya was annoyed. Haruhi, he knew, was worried.

"Haruhi, he'll be fine. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried." She lied, smiling tightly. "He has a team of doctors with him. He'll be fine."

"You are worried." Kyouya informed her, matter-of-factly. "But yes, he will be fine. I own this hospital, and I trust my staff implicitly."

"That's…" She trailed off. "A really weird sentence." She stood, stretching, and walked around in the corridor a little. Kyouya was feeling restless too, having always been one for activity. He found he needed to be doing something all the time. He could see the nurses and porters giving him odd looks, recognising their boss and wondering what on earth he was doing back at work on one of his rarely taken but much enjoyed evenings off, and why he was, of all places, down on the ground floor. Kyouya had no time for them, however. He prided this place on it's efficiency and if Haruhi was made to wait much longer it was going to be time for some serious butt-kicking.

She was crying.

He just noticed, out the corner of his eye, as the woman scrubbed her face, holding them back. He stood awkwardly, not really sure what to do. "Haruhi…"

"Yes?" She turned to face him, evidently hoping he hadn't noticed.

"Didn't I say not to worry?" He said, hating how he still managed to sound irritated even when he needed to be compassionate. To both their surprises, he went and held her until the doctors finally emerged from the room and they could both go in.

Ranka lay in the bed, and smiled weakly at them. "Hello." He said, as if this was a usual meeting. "I'm sorry to disturb your meal…"

Haruhi went to his side, while Kyouya, with the benefit of medical training, went and began flicking through the notes at the foot of the bed.

"Hey!" Ranka protested. "Aren't those supposed to be confidential?!"

"I'm a doctor and the owner of this hospital. I am legally entitled." Kyouya smiled coldly at him. He wasn't looking too closely at the words before him, it was just something to do. To his surprise, he was almost as relieved as Haruhi. The man was charismatic and kind, and somehow- though goodness knows how it had happened- he'd grown fond of him too. He certainly took more of an interest then Kyouya's own father did…

Meanwhile, Haruhi was giving him a good telling off.

"Didn't I tell you it would all catch up with you? I've been telling you that since I was eight. It wasn't like you didn't know all that alcohol would be bad for you- I knew you gave up too late… You really are irresponsible, dad…" She sighed wryly.

He squeezed her hands. "Ah, but you've still been crying for me, haven't you? I'm sorry… Now, go and clean your pretty face up. People will think I'm a bad father if my daughter's such a mess!"

"You are a bad father." She remarked, but rolled her eyes and went anyway. "I'll be back in a minute, then…"

Silence fell in the room. Kyouya clipped the notes back on to the bed and looked at him harshly.

"You told her you gave up alcohol a year ago, Ranka." He said, accusingly.

"Ah, Kyouya, you can't expect a man to die of thirst… A pint a week, that's all, I promise…" He had his eyes closed now, and Kyouya realised he was weaker then he'd perhaps been pretending for Haruhi's benefit.

"And at least seven tonight." Kyouya rebuked, tapping the notes. Ranka winced a little.

"Fine, fine… Look, I can't talk to you all the way over there. Come here."

Kyouya moved closer.

"No, come closer…"

He obliged, and Ranka suddenly reached up and swatted him around the head. "Why did you let her worry about me?!" He demanded.

Not that weak, then.

"I did my best!" Kyouya answered, irritably. "You're the one who landed yourself in here!"

Ranka didn't respond properly, but said instead "Did she have to tell you it was bothering her?"

"No. I knew."

"Good." Ranka's eyes flashed open, and they were twinkling slightly. "So? When are you going to make an honest woman of her?"

"I hardly think this is the time nor place to-"

"Stop being evasive!" Ranka swatted him like a child again. "You know how I am, snooping at the notes. So what else are we meant to talk about? I don't want to die without seeing Haruhi in a wedding dress and if you won't oblige, I'll just have to find someone else." He chuckled a little, but it turned to a cough, and then he sobered up a little. "Seriously, though… I know what it's like to be growing old alone. And I swear to you now I will not let that happen to her."

"Neither will I." Kyouya said, simply. "In actual fact, Ranka-san, I was going to ask her tonight; but we had to come here."

"Really? Oh, no! I'm so sorry!"

Kyouya sighed ruefully. "Actually, it was quite a relief. It wasn't going too well. I have no idea what possessed me, but I took advice off Tamaki. Of course, he didn't think it was enough just to say 'Haruhi, will you marry me'."

A small noise of frustration came from the doorway. "I'll come back again, shall I?"

Kyouya froze, mortified.

Not again.

Haruhi left the room, but this time, he followed her, and caught her arm just outside.

"Haruhi. This is getting ridiculous, so I'm just going to say it." He said, flatly. "You're a straight-forward woman and I am a straight-forward man, so I am just going to ask you a straight-forward question in a straight-forward manner. Is that acceptable?"

"I'll give a straight-forward answer." She agreed, cautiously.

"Then…" He swallowed, suddenly feeling far less straight-forward then he'd been intending. But he had to do it. "Excuse me if I don't go down on one knee, Haruhi, it's just that I know what's been on this floor." He cleared his throat again and, at last, got the words out. "Will you marry me?"

Silence. She looked at him. Just looked. As if the question as somehow surprised her, as if she had doubted he'd do it; or doubted it was real. She didn't give a straight-forward answer, or indeed, any answer at all.

"Just say yes!" Ranka called from the room behind them. Kyouya took a step back down the corridor and irritably pulled the door shut.

"He can be extremely annoying." Kyouya commented, to fill the silence.

"Yes." Haruhi blurted.

More silence.

"…Sorry, was that 'Yes, he is annoying', or 'Yes'…?" Kyouya said awkwardly.

"Both." She said, simply.

They stood, smiling a little, unsure what to say.

"I apologise for what was quite possibly the worst proposal ever, by the way." Kyouya muttered.

She smirked and shrugged. "As Tamaki-senpai would say, it's the thought that counts. The sentiment, right?"

"Let's never speak of that again."

"Agreed." Haruhi said, readily. They stood together a moment longer, then Ranka's voice came, muffled by the door a little, but clear as a bell.

"Kiss her, you fool, or I'm going to refuse to let you marry her!"

"That's the first good advise I've had…" Kyouya complained; and took it.

He wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up proposing in the middle of his work place in front of her father, nor how he'd managed to let it happen to begin with. He wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to fall in love with her, but he did know one thing for certain:

It wasn't a thing like he'd expected.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Business as usual, at last.

They stood together in a group. He was there, next to his best man, who had given a heart felt speech and would have made even more of a fuss if Kyouya had asked someone else to do it instead. Lulu was there as well, of course, deep in the discussion with both of the twins about doing some design work for them. Artistic types, all of them, even the twin's partners. Hikaru, however, was being dragged out of the discussion into a whispered conversation with Tamaki. Kyouya could hazard a guess as to what it was about. To his surprise, he did catch one sentence from Hikaru:

"Alright, alright, I'll ask her."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's not like I don't love her. Besides, the only parts of marriage we don't already have are the rings, the certificate, and the s-"

"I don't need to know, just ask her!

"Fine. Calm down…" He suddenly raised his voice and called to his partner. "Oi, Miho. Fancy getting married?"

"Sure." She shrugged, and continued with the conversation.

Kyouya glared at Hikaru. Why did some people find it so ridiculously easy…? He felt eyes on him, and looked across the circle to the woman standing opposite. She had known what he was thinking and smiled lightly at him. His wife, as of earlier that day.

What an odd thought.

Tamaki seemed to agree. Satisfied with Hikaru now, he leapt across the way and grabbed her hand.

"Haruhi!" He said, theatrically. "I can't stand it! I simply can't bear the thought of you being locked away in the castle of the demon king! Why did I not deserve your heart?"

Kyouya didn't mind. He knew Tamaki was only fooling around. He was more surprised when Haruhi joined in.

"Don't worry, Tamaki-senpai. You know you'll always be my bit on the side." She replied.

Kyouya still didn't mind.

"Then what about me?" The rather recently engaged Hikaru added, pouting.

She rolled her eyes. "Hikaru, you're the bit on the other side."

Kyouya twitched a little. There was no doubt that these people had been and were a continuing bad influence on Haruhi, corrupting her entirely.

Not that he minded, of course.

"Then where does that leave me?" Kaoru was currently asking with a sigh.

"Ah, don't worry, we'll just have to shuffle around a bit." Hikaru assured him.

Kyouya snapped. With the last vestiges of his self control, he turned to their wives imploringly.

"Will one of you please object?" He asked.

"Why should we?" Miho shrugged. "It's not like we're left out of the fun…"

Evidently, Hikaru was going to marry someone exactly like himself. It also seemed Kyouya would have to put a stop to their teasing on his own. He pushed across the circle, forced the twins aside, and wrapped his arm posessivly around Haruhi's waist.

"That's quite enough." He said firmly, glaring at them all, and they simply laughed. Kyouya just smiled. For once, he felt happy.

He found he rather liked it. He was not entirely sure how it had happened, which was unusual to him. He was sure of most things, not just sure, certain. He always knew, indeed, had always known, exactly where he had come from, where he was heading, and what he would achieve in between. But this… she… had just walked into the room one day, come from nowhere. And now this. He wasn't sure what had happened, or what would happen next. He didn't have a clue. He would never have thought he'd be one for falling in love. No, he was not entirely sure how, or indeed why, he had let it happen.

But he was very glad it had.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

A/N: Awww, and there it is. I think maybe they got a bit out of character towards the end, but hey, over the course of twenty years… Oh, sorry. Fifteen. XD Ha ha. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed- and particularly you, fruiti-chan!