There's a saying about weddings. It runs like this, your marriage is doomed if you don't have "something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue". That was all fine and well if you had things to suit the rhyme on hand the day of your wedding. Unfortunately for Haruhi Fujioka learning one of the most important wedding superstitions the day of the wedding is very stressful and takes a lot of effort to fix.
Which is why she found herself staring Yoshio Ohtori in the face in disbelief as he provided her with something blue. She had covered the other three parts of the rhyme by pure coincidence. Her dress was special. It had been her mother's and Haruhi felt aglow with pride wearing it. She looked like an angel, the way the long dress fell daintily down to her feet in lightly gathered tiers of white satin. The dress had off the shoulder straps that melded down into a gorgeous bodice that clung to her in all the right places. It was simple and elegant; plain white lace over smooth satin. At the waist it fanned out gracefully and was bunched artfully to add texture at carefully selected points creating a light airy effect reminiscent of a waterfall in sumer. The entire thing was accented with bits of pale periwinkle; including her rare purple roses, picked especially for the event. Even her veil was made of the lightest, periwinkle tule. It was new, handmade by the twins as a present.
The borrowed item was, ironically, from her father who lent her the shoes she was wearing on her tiny feet. He had gotten them as a gift, and they were comically small for him. He had refused to part with them, and now they were hers for the day.
Something old, something new, something borrowed but nothing blue.
She looked around, feeling rather nervous and frantic, for something- anything- blue but there was nothing to be found. She was about to enlist help from Renge, her maid of honor, when her future father in law walked in.
"Haruhi," he greeted coldly.
"Ohtori-san," she replied calmly. He used to intimidate her, but Kyouya had taught her not to fear him- he had a lot of experience himself. The older man looked her over and recited the now familiar rhyme with a voice not unlike a robot's.
"You look amazing, but there is one thing you are lacking," he said, reaching into his breast pocket and drawing out a single blue hair-clip. It was very small and very simple- just a blue flower on a bobby-pin- but it had a certain indescribable beauty- a certain history that made it seem invaluable. Haruhi's beautiful eyes went wide in wonderment.
"This belonged to my late wife. She wore it on her wedding day. It is yours now." Yoshio Ohtori spoke with a voice devoid of all emotion and an expressionless face but when he tipped his head and the ever-present glare left his glasses she could see a glint of pride in his dark eyes.
He stepped closer and place the clip into the elegant bun that was her hair. Though the clip was very small, the impact was striking.
She was an Ohtori now. She held a part of their heritage.
"Thank you."
"My son chose well when he chose you. You will be a great addition to our family."
"Thank you."
He turned and walked away.
...
The service was simple, as per Haruhi's insistence. Her march was dignified and when she reached Kyouya on the alter she smiled. He smiled too- a real smile, which was really more of a smirk- and looked her over. He had never been happier in his life.
"You look beautiful, Haruhi."
"You look... perfect."
"I try."
Their voices were hushed as people shifted around in their seats, preparing to watch the Fujiokas become a part of the Ohtoris. In the front row sat Ryoji "Ranka" Fujioka, beaming with joy and happily cross-dressing as always, and Yoshio Ohtori, cold as ever with a slightly softer expression than usual. There was obvious tension between the two men, but both were very proud of their children and nothing could ever take that away from them. Kyouya's eyes widened for a second as he saw his mother's hair-clip in Haruhi's hair.
"My mother's hair-clip..." he breathed softly.
"Your father gave it to me."
"It's perfect."
The service went smoothly, with Tamaki squirming visibly as he stood at Kyouya's side as best man. He was antsy and exuberant as always. He knew that the best man had won Haruhi's heart and thus could hold no grudge. Especially not when he saw the soft, loving look in Kyouya's eyes when he though no one was looking. Everything seemed to fall into place as the vows were exchanged and the happy couple leaned in for the first kiss of their married lives.
"I love you," they said in the same instance as they broke apart.
No once could deny it. Kyouya and Haruhi's love had withstood all trials.