A/N:

So, this is my first fanfiction! (That I've actually written down, in any case; I've got plenty more story seeds just lying around in my brain :) So, this is more of a character study made possible by some KyouHaru fluff, and hopefully minimal drama. I've been wanting to write something cute like this for a while and these characters were perfect for what I had in mind. Read it, review it, favorite it , love it. Hope you enjoy!

Trust the weather to always make his plans go awry.

The tall, lean young man sat back in his chair, sighing at the screen of his laptop, its glow reflecting off of his glasses. He was dressed smartly but casually, in dark jeans and a sweater over a button-down shirt, his messenger bag at his side. He looked, for all the world, like an ordinary graduate student waiting for his flight, albeit one waiting in the high-end lounge of Boston's airport, his bodyguards seated unobtrusively near him. Yet Ootori Kyouya, heir to one of the largest multinational corporations in the world, was anything but ordinary. And today, he was being forced to fly commercial.

Thinking about that again, Kyouya involuntarily shuddered. But the huge typhoon developing in the Pacific, grounding all of his family's private jets and blocking all air traffic, left him no other choice. At least it's first-class, he thought as he glanced at his watch and smoothly shut the lid of his computer. The Ootori name held power even during last-minute bookings on already full flights. Whatever good that does me, Kyouya added grumpily to himself. He had looked at his tickets in dismay, noting the 15-hour layover in Amsterdam with a grim smile, thinking that it might at least give him some time to sleep. The merger had gone well, better than well in fact, but it had left him little time for any kind of rest at all, as he looked over paperwork obsessively and reviewed business texts for his classes until the early hours of the morning. In fact, he had been so busy with his work the past year and a half that he had completely missed all of the Host Club get-togethers, a fact he reflected on ruefully. For all his complaining about expenses and dignity, the Shadow King truly missed those years of high school, especially the time with his friends. Being a high-power business mogul was a lonely life.

He woke from his reverie with a start. He was likely to miss things in more than the metaphorical sense if he kept delaying like this. Kyouya got to his feet, ran his hands through his hair, and stretched, smiling at some girls who were observing him with shy giggles from another side of the lounge, then looked at his watch again. Drat. He really was very late. But woe to any pilot, or, for that matter, airline, who dared leave without the Ootori heir, he vowed, moving at a respectable pace to his gate. The Low Blood Pressure Demon Lord was a force to be reckoned with, even when exhausted.

oOoOo

Luckily, he boarded without incident, although bombarded with hostesses and airline representatives seeking to get into his good graces. Finally, he made his way to his seat and sank into it. Honestly, its comfort made up for all of the indignities of the past few hours. A small frown came to his face as he remembered something, digging his phone out of his pocket. Missed calls: Suoh Tamaki (idiot) – 8. Voicemails: Suoh Tamaki (idiot) – 3. That was it. When he was working, Kyouya tended to ignore all distractions, which basically involved any kind of external stimulus. Well, the idiot would just have to wait, as the plane was starting to fill up and he wanted to rest. It was probably just Tamaki whining about how he hadn't gotten a call from "Mommy" (RE: Kyouya) in a few weeks. Or, more likely, it would be a 10-minute speech on the merits of the Home Shopping Network, a curious kind of channel that proved Tamaki had no backbone whatsoever when it came to buying things. In fact, his last four birthday presents for Kyouya had come off of it.

He allowed himself a small laugh as he remembered his 23rd birthday with the rest of the Host Club, two years ago, as Tamaki had waited with the stars in his eyes as Kyouya had carefully peeled away the dancing clown gift-wrap and then gazed in expressionless distaste at the object in front of him. Everyone had gathered around for the opening of gifts, and as they caught sight of Tamaki's present, the twins had howled with laughter and Haruhi took care to snap a picture of everyone at the table at that exact moment.

"What… is the meaning of this?"

"Ah, Kyouya, I am thrilled that you ask! You see, mon ami, it is a grill. You know, and I bought it using the commoner's logic: never pass up a good deal. There are 4 more at home, and I got all of them for only 35 US dollars!"

Here Tamaki struck a pose and wiggled his eyebrows, as if expecting the table to burst into applause. When the only noise he heard was the twins' laughter, he shot them all a martyred look and continued in a hurry.

"But it is a small one. Portable, you could call it! I thought, since you were always on business trips, you would miss home-cooked meals."

"And so… you thought I could grill things. In my hotel room?"

"Bien sûr! Where else? I'm sure, if you need help with the more feminine homely tasks, you could also ask Haruhi – Oh! Haruhi, I see your shoulders shaking! You are obviously overcome with emotion from my thoughtfulness –" Haruhi could hold it in no longer and laughed even louder than the twins had, waving the photo and gasping for breath. After a while, everyone was laughing, even Kyouya.

That had been a good day, he reflected. He supposed that his favorite part of it had been seeing Haruhi laugh.

Actually, just thinking of the onetime Host Club Princess brought a smile to his face like no one else could. As the heir to the Ootori holdings, Kyouya traveled in the highest of society's circles, mingling with the elites, and yet he had never met another woman to compare to her. Within a few months, no, weeks, of his meeting her, she had risen from a simple commoner in his estimation to the girl of his dreams. Her eyes, so deep and expressive he found himself getting lost in them time after time. Her smile, sweet and unassuming. Her bearing, elegant, her personality determined and impossibly kind-hearted. It was the greatest mystery to him as to how people hadn't figured out her real identity sooner; to him, it was obvious. He had fallen, slowly, gradually, and completely in love.

Of course, to 17-year-old Kyouya, this had all been very embarrassing.

In love? With the commoner who dressed like a boy? Preposterous. And who was he supposed to confide in? His father? That was laughable. His sister Fuyumi? She would probably want to be too involved. Anyway, she had better things to do. Tamaki? There, Kyouya felt the greatest uncertainty. For one, he was his best friend. Tamaki had never kept anything from him. And he probably would have confessed to him if he hadn't seen Tamaki's face when he thought Haruhi was hurt. Those eyes, his expression of pain and worry; in fact, it had mirrored what Kyouya felt in his heart. No, his friend was definitely in love with the girl, for all his talk of being her "father."

So he waited. And waited. And waited some more, just for the perfect moment to confess all to her. (Ootoris are big on perfect timing.) But then the conversation with his father had happened.

oOoOo

The Ootori mansion, 5 years previously…

It was nearing the end of their last school year. The days were slipping past more quickly than Kyouya had imagined, yet he still said nothing to Haruhi, loath to disturb the easy companionship of the Host Club as the year drew to a close. He arrived home in the evening in a relatively good mood, loosening his tie and dropping his bag in his study chair. As he shrugged off his blazer and tossed it on his bed, Tachibana cleared his throat behind him.

"Your father would like a word."

Kyouya drew his eyebrows together in puzzlement but said nothing, tracing his steps back to his father's office, knocking on the door and waiting to be admitted. He glanced down at the blue tile he was standing on, a habit leftover from his days as a young child, when he would stand nervously before giving his father reports on the stock market.

"Come in," came his father's voice from inside the office.

But a nervous child he was no longer. He raised his head slightly and went in, closing the door gently behind him. His father nodded almost imperceptibly at him and started to speak.

"Now, Kyouya, I've given this some thought, and,…."

With the words that followed, Kyouya's eyes grew slightly wider and a small smile appeared on his face.

Heir to the Ootori Empire.

His father finished speaking and was just observing his reaction, to which Kyouya paid no attention, the wheels already turning inside his brain. The papers he would need to get together, the outlines, his speech to the stockholders… This meant that his father was proud of him, didn't it? Trying, and failing, to ignore the small glow of warmth that evoked in him, he turned his thoughts to his friends instead. Haruhi. She would be happy for him, wouldn't she, and now, he thought privately, maybe I can compete with Tamaki a bit more now. In fact, he decided with a rush of adrenaline, he would talk to her about his feelings tomorrow. No, today! He would go over and everything would be –

"Now, about that Fujioka girl…"

And with those five words, Kyouya's heart sank. As his father continued, the smile disappeared from Kyouya's face. And when the short speech was done, Kyouya gave a perfunctory bow to his father and left for his room.

Brushing past Tachibana and Hotta's inquiring expressions and words of concern, he shut the door to his study and covered his face with his hands.

The next day, Kyouya had a new plan. In his first truly selfless decision in his life, for Haruhi's own sake, he decided, he would give her up. After all, why would she ever consider the emotionless Shadow King who put her millions of yen in debt? Tamaki was much better suited to her, with his easy smile and piano-playing skills and princely manner. Useless bum, Kyouya added, quite uncharitably. But no matter. From this moment on, any affection he had for Haruhi Fujioka was history.

oOoOo

Well, that was easier said than done, but with his insane work schedule, Kyouya managed to forget that most people existed beyond the scope of his work, he admitted wryly. His mind returning back to the present, he reflected with considerable regret that he hadn't even bothered to look Haruhi up in Boston when he had been there. He didn't even keep regular tabs on the other Host Club members' locations these days, what with his caseload piling up. That would all change once he got home, he resolved to himself. He'd call Tamaki back, he'd pull up his old files, and update everything. Maybe, he even thought, the ends of his lips quirking up, he'd phone Haruhi.

A few rows over, the same girls from before sat whispering eagerly to each other, debating whether or not one of them should go sit in the empty spot next to that handsome Japanese man, whom one of them had realized was the heir to the Ootori clan, from a recent magazine photoshoot. The bolder of the two had just worked up enough nerve to stand up timidly, but sat back down in a huff as they saw a second figure, petite with close-cropped brown hair, make her way to the seat.

Haruhi Fujioka sighed, hefting her bag and checking her ticket. This was her seat, na? First class is fairly nice, she thought to herself with a quick grin. She swung up her bag, accidentally clipping her seatmate on the elbow, causing him to open his eyes and raise his head to take a look at this impertinent commoner. She heard his sharp intake of breath and looked down, her words of apology dying in her throat as she stared at the man in surprise.

"Kyouya-sempai?"

A/N:

How'd you like that? A sudden realization to end the chapter. I realize that this was mostly Kyouya-centric (told you it was kind of a character story), but I promise you'll see from Haruhi next time! Yes, Kyouya has retained enough of his old Host Club charm to smile at (rich) girls (from famous families) in airports :D Also, the grill story is probably my favorite part, because it just seems like something Tamaki would do. I know the conversation with Yoshio was a little mysterious, but it's meant to be like that, I promise. All will be revealed in good time… Review if you liked it! I'll try and update soon.