Having managed to keep his cousin talking for the duration of the trek home, it was becoming clear that there was not much time left before Mitsukuni would have some explaining of his own to do.

Entering the apartment, Takashi slid him off of his back while shutting the door behind them. Leaning against the frame, he crossed his arms silently, indicating that he was done talking.

"Okay." Mitsukuni started, "Remember all those reasons you just gave for staying in Boston? The perfectly understandable and legitimate reasons?"

"Yeah."

"Good. So just remember all those reasons, and don't get angry with yourself for what I'm about to say. I already know you'll get mad at me, but that's okay. So-"

"Just say it, Mitsukuni."

"When did Haruhi stop writing back to you?"

"Just less than a year ago. Why?"

Speaking softly with his head bowed toward the ground, he continued on. "Because that was also around the same time that Haruhi was raped."

Unable or unwilling to acknowledge what his cousin had just said, he simply shook his head.

"Takashi..."

"No. That's... It's unacceptable." He paced back and forth, growing furious as he began to process this new reality. "What the hell happened?!"

His eyes filling with tears, the smaller man only shrugged. "I'm sorry, Taka. I don't know... The semester had only been going on for a few weeks, and-"

"Her first semester."

"Yes. I know. It was late one night, and I got a call from Haru-Chan telling me I needed to come to her dorm. She didn't say why. She didn't have to, once I got there... I think she was in shock; she had no idea what she wanted to do, no clue what to say. She started panicking when I called Kyoya to bring a car to her dorm, but that was the least of what we needed to do. He managed to slip her into a private wing of a hospital. Doctors and police came, finished what they needed to do, then left."

"So everybody knows."

"No. She made us promise not to tell anyone. Her father doesn't even know."

Each new piece of information delivered another lurid cut into his heart.

She won't even tell her father. Two people know. Why is she dealing with this by herself? Why wasn't I here?!

Years of reading his expressions allowed Mitsukuni to assess what needed to be said next, and he proceeded as concise as possible.

"She didn't tell you for the same reason she didn't tell her father. The blame isn't yours. And don't worry, I'm not breaking my promise. Haru-Chan was actually counting on me telling you at some point after you got back."

Disgusted with absolutely everything, he shook his head. "In her last letter, Haruhi wrote that her classes were alright, but that her time dragged on much slower than she would have expected. She wrote that college was not turning out as she thought it would. I should have come home, then."

Unable to sit still any longer, Takashi reached for the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"Dojo. Alone."

Mitsukuni nodded. He couldn't fathom how much this onslaught of new information would affect him, and figured it best to leave his cousin on his own. The decision, however, did not come without guilt. He called out to him before he could shut to door.

"Takashi! I'm really sorry, Taka. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you, and I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"How could you have been? You did what you could."

Leaving it at that, he disappeared out the door.

.

It was hours later by the time Takashi had returned to the apartment. He found it empty, save for a note left on a table.

Staying the night with Reiko-Chan, will see you tomorrow! And in case you were wondering, Haru-Chan's building is the one to the right of ours. Her unit is 2B. Mitsukuni.

Haruhi lives next door... This is good. Still, what does he plan on telling me next? Hn.

Shaking off his cousin's newfound penchant for springing big information onto him, Takashi glanced out the window, and knew precisely what he wanted to do. Unsure of whether seeing her felt more like a selfish want, or a heartfelt obligation, he pushed all superfluous thoughts from his head, intent only on seeing how Haruhi was doing.

.

Standing in front of the apartment complex, he assessed the sub par entryway, and was left severely unimpressed.

There's no doorman or security. There's no call button. I can just walk in. Unacceptable.

Having shoved the voice of reason to the back of his head, Takashi could still hear its faint insistence that this was a college town, not downtown Tokyo. What did he expect?

For nothing like this to have happened.

Sighing, he pulled out his cell phone, dialing her number. Picking up after the first ring, the sound of her voice filled him with relief. At the very least, she sounded the same.

"Haruhi. May I come in?"

"Of course, Takashi." Albeit tensely, she laughed, "Did you just find out that we're living next door to one another?"

"Hn."

More laughter before hanging up. Taking a deep breath, he entered the building, made his way up the stairs and to her door. Propped against the side of her doorway, Haruhi smiled as he came closer, and beckoned him inside.

Closing the door behind him, he turned to see that she had placed herself in an overstuffed chair, her knees raised up to her chest. Settling for a seat on the couch across from her, Takashi maintained the feeling that neither one of them was pursuing this visit as they would have liked.

Haruhi was the first to speak. "Two years alone. How was it?"

"It was alright."

"We all missed you."

"I missed you."

As a faint blush creeped up her face, Haruhi shifted in her seat. The slight movement was enough for Takashi to notice the subtle evolution of strengthened muscles, the likes of which he had not seen on Haruhi before.

"So you're doing yoga? How long now?"

"About a year."

"When you stopped returning any letters?"

He had not planned on coming off as terse, but between his own hurt at being disconnected and the guilt at having not been there for her, Takashi's attitude had manifested beyond his standard realm of control. If he were being honest, he did not feel completely unjustified.

Shaking his head, he intended to redact his previous question. "Haruhi, I'm sorry."

"No. I'm sorry. You sent letter after letter, and I never even tried to call you."

Upon noticing the tears in his eyes, her body deflated with a long sigh. "Did Mitsukuni tell you?"

"Yes. I'm sor-"

"And that is why I stopped writing. In the middle of what was probably the one self-involved thing you'll ever do in your life, I was not about to allow this to get in your way. Had I continued writing, you would have noticed something was off with me. At the very least you would have worried, but I know eventually you would have come home. How is that fair?"

"Are you serious?! Haruhi-"

"What?"

Feeling defeated, he could barely come up with words with which to soothe the situation. Unfortunately, this was one time where the typical silence policy was not better. Not knowing what to say, Takashi continued talking.

"What were you thinking?"

With a shrug, Haruhi stood up and made her way to the couch. While her eyes never left his, it was not lost on Takashi that she sat herself as far away from him as possible.

"For a while, if it didn't involve a text book, I tried not to think at all. I can only bury myself in studies for so long before it's all known. Mitsukuni tried to teach me self-defense, but... It didn't quite take. Seeing a therapist didn't do much to help me take back control of my body, so I got into yoga. Which I basically started practicing every day."

"Does any of it help?"

"Some days. Most days."

Not entirely convinced, he could think of nothing left to say. On top of every other unfortunate thing he had recently learned, Takashi was now upset that an uncomfortable silence had developed between the two of them.

Breaking that silence, Haruhi smiled. "But putting all of that aside. I'm happy you're home. Maybe some things can go back to normal again."

He laughed, not even sure what was funny. "Like what?"

"Hell if I know. We can figure that out another time."

Throwing her head back in a yawn, Takashi looked to the wall and was surprised to see the late hour displayed on the clock.

"I had better get going."

Looking disappointed, Haruhi nodded. "I suppose. I do have early classes tomorrow... And you should be starting grad school!"

"Next week."

"That's very exciting for you."

While he enjoyed that Haruhi had suddenly developed a conversational tone, the depths of fatigue were not treading lightly upon her face. Standing up, he gesticulated that it was time for him to go, in doing so, prompting Haruhi to stand up, too. Making their way toward the door, there came a somewhat trepid gleam in her eyes.

"Takashi?"

"Hn?"

"Do you want a hug?"

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then I'd love one."

Allowing her to make the first move, Takashi stood still as Haruhi slowing closed the gap between them. Finally wrapping his arms delicately round her shoulders, it was abundantly clear how difficult this intimate space was for her. Arms at her sides, she momentarily nestled her face to his chest before moving out from beneath him, a quiet, but triumphant smile on her face.

"See you soon, Takashi."

"Whenever you like."

.

Pushing his way through the building's front door, he was accosted by a humid August breeze. About to make the short trek back home, Takashi stopped upon hearing a familiar male voice speak his name. Turning around, he nodded to his old friend in acknowledgement.

Waiting alongside a parked car, stood Kyoya Ohtori.

.

.

Hi again! Well? What do you think? I'm having fun with this, as it's a bit of a challenge. You know how it is-something gets in your head and you just have to write it... Still, it feels a bit odd, since I've always felt that this sort of story is a bit overdone. Usually I don't even read them... Alas, here I am writing one! Please let me know what you think! I'm hoping to not have gone OOC on them in this chapter, but it's an unexpected situation to be in, yeah?

Anyhoo, thanks for reading! You're awesome!