Disclaimer: I own an Ouran poster. And the dubbed DVD. That's it.
Author's Note: I'm finally paying tribute to my Ouran OTP. *waves KyouHaru flag* Mangaverse KyouHaru is more challenging than the anime version, so I thought I'd tackle it. Oh, and I know I used the anime spelling of Kyouya's name. This is just due to personal preference. To those who reviewed my other fanfic, many thanks! Same goes to the readers! Reviews for this piece will be greatly appreciated.
1. Days
Her watch is broken. It must have stopped functioning long ago, and for all her pragmatism, Haruhi overlooked the trifling issue. She's just become conscious of it now, that she had been going around for days accompanied by the small gasps of a frozen moment. They grow more pronounced as she sits on her favorite park bench, swathed in ruminations and the rhythm of her damaged instrument.
The stuttering tick, tick, tick is suddenly split by a smooth voice.
"I thought I'd find you here."
The spell of her watch loses its hold. She shifts her glance away from the gathering gray clouds above to rest on the figure standing to her right. She can almost swear he looks as surprised as she feels, but Kyouya is nothing but deliberate. (Like her watch used to be.)
She slides over to make space for him. He sits down, and the ticking resumes.
2. Hours
He is so still. His usual calm languor is replaced by a straight-backed rigidity that belies his messy, impassioned outburst before. It's only been a few hours, but Kyouya's already managed to hew his raw, writhing rage into a solid, stone-cold hardness.
Maybe it's his stillness, maybe it's the insistent ticking piercing the thickening air, or maybe it's the impossible but maddening combination of both, but when she finally asks him, it's not the question she was intending to ask.
"I keep wondering, Kyouya-senpai: why do you only display your full emotions when it comes to Tamaki-senpai?"
He turns to her, a wryly amused expression on his face. "Is that what you think?"
She simply looks at him.
Tick, tick, tick –
He sighs, and Haruhi thinks it's the most heartbreaking sound in the world.
"Because he is the first one to make me feel." He holds her eyes captive, and Haruhi isn't sure she wants him to let go. "But that does not mean he is the last."
She nods.
Tick, tick, tick…
3. Minutes
It comes as mere flash when she recalls Kyouya in his full fury earlier. The echo of Tamaki's words imbues her memory. Fiery. Passionate. Kyouya. As Haruhi looks at Kyouya and sees him, Tamaki's golden splendor pales: Kyouya is beautiful when he breaks his silence.
He's especially beautiful now, as the skies finally pour a torrent upon them that swiftly shatters his practiced perfection. Haruhi marvels that Kyouya remains, refusing to take dry shelter, when getting soaked does nothing for him. Yet he's still there. They're both still there, snatching long minutes from the world behind the curtain of the downpour.
The rainwater smears a chill upon her skin that feels too familiar. It comes to her in an onslaught of sensations – sunlight splintering into a glassy deep blue, the greedy grip of gravity and water, searching gray eyes – that Tamaki isn't the only one who plunged in to pull her out of the depths.
She doesn't know if Kyouya remembers or if she should even thank him (the way she thanked Tamaki).
Tick, tick, tick…
It's waiting.
"Your watch is broken," Kyouya observes, reaching out for her. Again.
She moves her hand – her watch away.
4. Seconds
Haruhi doesn't know how it happened. The rain is still falling and the watch is still ticking and suddenly he's gazing at her. It's the gaze that tugs at her discarded half-perceptions. She realizes she's seen it before, unmercifully tainting Arai's, Kaoru's, and Hikaru's features.
But Kyouya's gaze is clear, naked, his usual thick veneer peeled away to reveal his very essence. It's the most terrifying, magnificent thing she's ever seen.
She knows what he's about to do.
And she doesn't want him to. Because Haruhi thinks, believes, knows she loves Tamaki. This is a certainty she isn't willing to part with; it's the last constant she clings to in her chaotic life.
Yet…
Yet she knows that were Kyouya to release those words to the world – to her – she can't, won't stop him. He's been silenced for too long already.
Voiceless, her pleas are instead borne in her eyes: Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, say it…
His hair is drenched. Raindrops scurry down and escape the smooth planes of his face, slipping away like their stolen seconds. But Kyouya's eyes, behind his spectacles, are wide open.
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…
5. Heartbeats
Then his glasses glint to shield his eyes, his lips lock into a thin line, and his former facade shrouds him again. He understands. And he lets go. Time flutters out of his fingers to join the world once more, and she's free. She feels a strange twist in her stomach at the sharp reality.
But his one last silence is her salvation, and she seizes the chance to be selfish – just once. So she offers him a weak, weary smile.
Thank you.
Kyouya nods. It's only one more silence after all. And Haruhi isn't sure he's going to keep it forever. She doesn't even know if she wants him to.
His hand rests on hers, his touch a breath of bird wings. His hand is cold, but she can feel a warmth pulsating inside. The fire's still there. He withdraws, away from her and into himself, striding off with his familiar measured steps. Then all that's left is the fast patter of rainfall and the erratic drumming of her heart and the stilted notes of her broken watch, the symphony of time climbing to its crescendo.
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick –
It will only stop when Kyouya's silence breaks. And then their world will come crashing down.
* * * * * * *
A/N II: I hope they weren't too OOC. Please review!