Title: Untitled
Disclaimer: Do I look like I can draw? 'Course 's not my creation..
Warnings: Eventual Kyoya/Haruhi, and set in the post-grad-school future. Which means I'll probably have some manga spoilage in it. I don't really watch the anime, so it's just manga spoilers I'm obligated to warn about. ;P
Notes: But, yes.. It's my baby! The one that I refused to upload until I finished it... I'm still a little surprised that the people following this at the ouranhostclub com didn't kill me for taking as long as I did to put up all the parts. The full fic is available on my livejournal, but I'll be cleaning it up a bit more as I post it here, which might take a while because this happens to be a busy quarter. :P

Part One

It had been years since high school and Haruhi is nothing like the girl she had been. Not to say that she was not the same person, only that she had changed a bit, or maybe not at all. Either way, she had become a woman somewhat like the girl she had been. She still kept in continuous, and complete, contact with some the old host club members, though. One of the benefits of growing up was that she had come to wholeheartedly admit that she loved all of them, despite their busy-body, nosy ways.

She was closest to the twins now. It may have been the years they spent together, or the many times they talked her into sleeping over, or her peculiar relationship with them, or even just that it was anything but effort to think of them and hit that speed dial on her cell phone. Whatever it was, at some point they had become an unquestionable part of her life. A day is not a day unless she phones one of them long distance to Italy—which would make her cry at the expense except that they insisted on paying two thirds of the bill. They need to speak with her as badly as she needs to speak with them: they had stuck together the longest through high school, and then had persisted with irregular visits through college. It had been hard on all of them, when graduations happened and everyone began leaving.

At least Mitsu-nii and Taka-san had stayed in Japan, because once Tamaki and Kyoya graduated, they had shipped off overseas and she was forced to realize (a little late) how much she had come to depend on them. Tamaki had borderline-stalked her through this period, so his distance was almost tolerable, but Kyoya had disappeared. Then again, according to most of her friends, she had practically done the same upon her own move to the United States.

Stanford was nice, though, and everything she had been looking for in a college. Granted, her two month cram session learning French and English with the twins (and Tamaki, though she had known he would be in town and that he would probably appear just to spite her) had erased the language barrier and eased the cultural shock, and she had just been so relieved to be her own woman that her perception was probably biased. But it was a lovely campus. More so because she had had little time to form bad memories there before she had promptly transferred into the UC system to discourage her friends from visiting.

Not that she had anything to worry about from the twins. They were in Italy and France, for the most part. While she worked part time, supporting herself and paying for an apartment as she finished her major, they were busy sewing, drawing, and generally just creating their own designer clothing (which never stopped them from the occasional two-five week visit; though once they expanded past one store, the trips grew too hard and the trio was forced to content themselves with letters, emails, and phone calls). By the time she had made her way into Harvard Law, they were an international brand, and quite fond of sending her packages of clothing. Some outfits became treasured favorites; the rest were shoved into a storage closet. Before too long, all three of them were being kept busy.

In fact, they eventually got so busy that, although they spoke every day, the next time she saw them in person after her graduation from Berkeley was after she managed to find employment... And was promptly shipped oversees to be the company's US representative in a French conference (she was really only there to explain the contract she had been hired to draft). Naturally, Murphy's law meant that she bumped into Tamaki on her way to visit the twins, and somehow Mitsu-nii and Taka-san had been visiting as well.

Talk about chaos; something Haruhi has missed. It took her all of ten seconds to realize the absence of one member, and about two hours to mention it.

--

"Where's Kyoya?" She was tipsy at this point, but not drunk. Which would explain why she ignored the sudden quiet around the table. Leaning into Kaoru, who was seated next to her in the booth, she ignored the waitress setting dessert in front of her as she mumbled into her friend's jacket. "It's not like him to miss out on a gathering like this. Reunions might not fit his reputation, but I know he's missed us as much as we've missed him."

Kaoru stifled a snicker as she glared at her tarte tartin before spearing it with a fork. "And with the contacts I've heard he has, it's impossible for him to not know that we're all here!" She shoved a mouthful of hot caramelized apple and vanilla gelato in her mouth and chewed irately. "I bet he even arranged for me to be shipped out here."

"Saa, Haru." Kaoru settled an arm around her waist to steady her, ignoring the various looks he garnered for taking such a presumptuous action. "Relax, the tarte's not going anywhere, and you might stab your tongue if you shove your fork in too fast."

"But it's just like Kyoya!" She made a face at the innocent desert. "Tempting, contrasting, and slightly burned. I bet he hates me, and that's why he's not here.

"Okay, he doesn't hate me," she pouts petulantly into the silence her words had garnered. "He just doesn't want to see me."

"More likely, he's busy with more work." Hikaru suggests, a little panicked at Haruhi's suddent fit of moodiness.

"But isn't that just like our Kyoya, to choose work over play?"

"Mou... If Kyoya works too much, he'll get a tummy ache again! And then Bun-Bun will have to scold him!"

A general clamor rose as the ex-host club members started ranting about Kyoya and his workaholic tendencies. For her part, Haruhi smiled her secret smile and finished her tarte. Resting her head on Kaoru's chest, she watched her friends gossip and let the familiarity of it all wash over her, even if it was a little off. A sharp pang hit her somewhere in the chest when she realized that it was Kyoya's acerbic wit which was so obviously missing. Kaoru read her mood and wrapped an arm around her, and she smiled into the security of his neck before rejoining the conversation.

It was over too soon. She exchanged hugs with her old upper-classmen, and promised to call them the next morning before she was sandwiched between her twins. They watched as Tamaki's car pulled away, the blond's upper body hanging outside of the window as he waved his hand frantically and shouted that he would call soon. She muffled her giggles in Hikaru's shoulder, absentmindedly rubber her cheek against the soft wool of his coat. He smirked, and ruffled her hair.

"Aren't you glad that the King'll never change?"

"If it means that he puts up with Kyoya's surliness, then yes." She wrinkled her nose at Hikaru's expression of shock. "'Karu, do you really think it's even remotely possible that I'd forget Kyoya's birthday?"

The wind tangled her scarf was as bitter as her voice. "If Tamaki's still in town, then Kyoya's here, too. I don't think they've ever missed each other's birthday."

She readjusted her scarf as the brothers shared an uncomfortable glance. Hikaru stepped forward to help her with the knitted wool, and attempted an awkward explanation.

"We called him, Haruhi, it's just... You know him and his work—"

Her scarf straightened out, Haruhi shrugged and interrupted him. "It's fine, 'Karu. He's moved on, and so will I. Besides, I'll see him at his wedding."