Cupid is a Rich Bastard

She was numb. There was no other word to describe it. She'd been sitting on the park bench for what may have been seconds, minutes, or hours...she had absolutely no idea. She could barely remember the last time she blinked.

I believe it's time that you two part ways.

Haruhi flinched even though there was no getting away from those words, or the rest of Kyoya's logic, since it was all bouncing around mercilessly in her head. After she'd left the coffee shop, she'd been raging mad, and had nearly started a fight over a pack of gum in the process, but once she sat down, chewing as if her life depended on it, the reality of the situation set in.

You don't have to do anything in particular to keep him from dating. The fact of the matter is, he's in love with you.

It was preposterous. Tamaki wasn't in love with her and Kyoya had a lot of nerve telling her to stay away from him. Kyoya was a great many things, and his arrogance was on a whole different level from that of regular mortals, but this was by far the most galling thing he'd ever done to her. The whole affair stank with some kind of rich man logic that she couldn't understand, even after all these years...though, she was proud of that fact. The last thing she wanted was to be able to accept their half-hidden truths and skewed world view as her own. Especially if it meant breaking away from one of the few people she held close in her life—not that she'd ever admit it.

Though Tamaki annoyed her like no other person could, smothered her when she was too tired to stop him, and distracted her when she needed to focus on other things, he was one of her closest friends. She knew he would be there even when she didn't have to ask him to and over the years, she'd slowly let herself depend on him. A little. He hadn't let her down, and she couldn't honestly imagine him ever doing that. It wasn't in his nature.

However, just because he'd once arrived at a final exam half an hour late because she'd needed someone to take her and her burst appendix to the emergency room didn't mean he was in love with her.

That then begged the question: why would Kyoya tell her to stay away...unless he didn't know something she didn't?

Unlikely friends though they were, Haruhi knew that there were few secrets between Tamaki and Kyoya. She didn't think she'd done anything to offend Kyoya or to cause him to think that it was time to get rid of her...but knowing him, had she done something that merited her being evicted from their lives, he'd have thought of a cleaner way to do it.

No.

For all his manipulations and hidden agendas, Kyoya was more predictable than most people if one got to know him well enough. Having watched him rule the Host Club from the shadows, initiate hostile takeovers from his laptop, and play all of them like they were his puppets and guinea pigs, Haruhi liked to think that she had a good handle on his character.

With that realization, she sank back against her seat.

Tamaki loved her.

Covering her face with her hands, Haruhi felt her numbness give way to an incredible sense of confusion. He was her friend. That was all. She loved him, in her own way, she had to be honest about that, but she wasn't in love with him.

Right?

It would be safe to say that at the very least, you consider him one of your closest friends. If this is true, you'd only want the best for him. Isn't that right, Haruhi?

She did want the best for him. She always had. His grandmother was an evil witch who had no idea how kind and generous her grandson was, even though he continually treated her with respect despite the cruel names she called him. Tamaki had so much potential to be greater than he was, not only because of his intelligence, but because of his ability to make people believe in him. With his pure heart and good intentions, there was no telling the scope of the good deeds he could unleash on the world with his family's wealth behind him. Unfortunately, he was being held back by that same family, and, according to Kyoya, by his constant and relentless pursuit of his own small bits of happiness, which included her.

Haruhi had never gotten used to Tamaki's excesses and momentary whims that could involve shipping an authentic French horse-drawn carriage from France or kidnapping her, and flying her to Beijing just so she could try real Peking duck, but she wouldn't be the first to take them away from him. Whenever she thought of his life before he'd come to Japan, and his continued separation from his mother, she thought that maybe he deserved a little bit of that whimsy—despite the fact that she found him and his ideas ridiculous more often than not.

Maybe Kyoya was thinking that Tamaki needed a jolt to get him moving in the right direction and that jolt was the loss of one of the pieces of his life that made him happy.

That certainly seemed like something Kyoya would think, and Haruhi couldn't find any argument with it besides her very strong desire to ignore him completely and continue on as she always had.

He's not strong enough to cut ties with you, but I am, and, I suspect, so are you. Let him go, Haruhi. If you care about him even a little, let him go.

Frowning, Haruhi lowered her head and closed her eyes, silently cursing Kyoya for bringing all this up. She now felt she had no choice but to do as he said just to prove that she cared more than a little. Maybe it didn't have to be a permanent thing, but just long enough so that whatever it was he felt for her faded away and he could do what his family wanted. He needed to learn to take a longer view of things as Kyoya did and as she herself did. This was one way to do it. She would help Tamaki remove a distraction. Kyoya wasn't the only person who cared enough about Tamaki to take the fall instead of him. So she would do this, not because Kyoya had asked her to, but because...Tamaki needed her to. She would do it. For him.

Ignoring the tightness in her chest, Haruhi stood and slowly began to walk home.

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The vibration of her cell phone against the table nearly made Haruhi start. She'd been staring at her history notes for the last few hours, trying to make any information stick in her brain, but her phone seemed to ring every five minutes. She reached for it, but didn't need to look at the display to know that Tamaki was calling again.

It was more difficult to cut him out of her life than she'd expected, mainly because he refused to let her. When she started studying or working, she could lose herself in the material and would only be pulled out by her persistent cell phone. It had only been a week since she'd talked to Kyoya, but it felt more like a year, especially with Tamaki calling at least ten times a day and emailing more times than she could count. A small part of her wanted to throw that fact in Kyoya's face, wanted to rejoice in the fact that Tamaki cared about her too much to leave her alone for more than a day, but she locked away those thoughts and feelings before she could explore them further.

She stared at the silly picture that appeared on the screen when he called. He'd taken it when he'd forced her to go to Tokyo Disneyland with him and he pushed past crowds of small children so they could get a picture with Mickey. It was truly a shame that half of Mickey got cut off but the two of them were framed perfectly. Unbidden, a soft smile lit up her exhausted countenance before she put the phone aside and ducked her head down again to read.

The next call came two hours later, accompanied by an email asking her if he'd done something wrong that he needed to apologize for. If so, he was more than happy to come groveling because what father wouldn't want his daughter's forgiveness and if she would like to meet so that he could apologize face-to-face, it didn't matter what time it was because...

Haruhi rubbed her eyes and snapped her phone closed. As she did, the door to her room slid open and she tilted her head up to look at her father, beautifully attired in a red satin dress, but looking as if he was ready to fall into bed and never wake up.

"Dad, you're home," she said around a yawn. "How was work?"

"Exhausting."

Ranka collapsed next to his daughter and he pulled Haruhi into a tight hug, cuddling her against him even though she was too big to fit into his lap anymore.

"You look as tired as I do though," he said. "How has my dear Haruhi been spending her time, hmm? I was hoping to find you fast asleep now instead of studying and getting emails from your stupid friends. Tell that beast Tamaki that it's too late to be bothering young women and that he needs to learn some manners. I used to wonder where his head was when he did things like this, but I know better now. It is up his..."

"I'll be sure to tell him the next time I see him," Haruhi said, unable to keep the edge from her voice.

Holding her away from arm's length, Ranka peered into her face.

"What's the matter? Did he do something that I have to go kill him for? If he tried something uninvited, all you have to do is say the word and he's minced meat. I will destroy every strand of his beautifully cut hair—I don't care whose grandson he is!" he roared, getting more heated with every word out of his mouth.

"No, no," Haruhi said tiredly, moving away from her father. "He hasn't done anything. I'm just...I just don't know when I'm going to see him again."

"Oh? Why's that?" Ranka asked, his mood going from enraged to curious in the blink of an eye. "Has he finally relocated his sparkling white teeth and endless supply of roses to another hapless city, or, dare I hope, another country?"

Not sure why she felt the need to tell her father, knowing how he reacted to things, Haruhi couldn't seem to keep her words in.

"Kyoya says he's in love with me."

"Kyoya's in love with you? How wonderful! He's so smart and polite. I always liked him best since he was the only one thoughtful enough to give me updates on what you did at school, and he has such a nice way about him. He would make a wonderful son-in-law, although, his family sounds very snobby."

"No, not Kyoya," Haruhi said, rolling her eyes, and thinking to herself that Kyoya was probably the snobbiest person in his family. "Tamaki."

"Oh."

Haruhi waited for her father to go on another rant about Tamaki, but to her surprise, he simply sat back and tilted his head to one side. He studied her with a gravity that frightened her more than the blind rage she'd been expecting.

"And?"

Haruhi blinked.

"What do you mean 'and'?"

"He's been in love with you since the beginning," Ranka said, his eyes boring a hole through Haruhi. "I thought maybe you'd figured it out a while ago, but I guess, you hadn't. Honestly, Haruhi, a good lawyer must always be observant, at least as far as I remember your mother telling me so, and you didn't even notice this great big consistency in your life that's been staring you in the face."

"Has he been that obvious about it? I don't understand what is it other people can see that I can't," Haruhi said, her frustration boiling over. "What has he been doing that's made you and Kyoya so sure that he loves me?"

"The day Tamaki can manage to hide his thoughts and feelings would be the day I set all my Armani dresses on fire. You've gotten used to his strange little habits when it comes to you, but did you notice he treats no one else the same way? He would do anything for his friends, but for you he'll go one step further—even if it's off a cliff (which, by the way, wouldn't be such a bad thing). Sonow I'm left to assume you don't love him back which is why you're avoiding him."

"No."

Ranka reached out and took her phone before Haruhi could stop him. He flipped it open and jabbed at the buttons, calling up the missed call log. A corner of his mouth tilted up as he saw the single name that popped up in the entire list.

"My, he's persistent," he observed. "So the reason you're avoiding him is not because he's in love with you? I'm surprised that doesn't bother you, seeing as you're both such good friends. This is one way to ruin a friendship."

"What? No!"

Haruhi pressed her fingers against her temples, feeling the start of a major headache coming along. This was the longest she'd spent thinking about the situation and she could feel the dam she'd managed to build start to crack. It didn't help that her father was looking at her like she was a lost lamb and not for the first time in her life, she wanted to bury her face in his shoulder and ask him to make the world go away.

"I don't know anymore," she said. "Kyoya told me to stay away from Tamaki so that Tamaki can go find a good wife and secure his position in his family. Since the beginning, I've wanted no part in their rich bastard game, but I keep getting sucked in. Now I can't think because he keeps calling, and I want to answer to tell him to stop, but I can't!"

Ranka reached out and smoothed a hand down the back of his daughter's short dark hair, his expression compassionate. He'd never seen Haruhi so perturbed, and that was saying a lot considering what she'd had to go through just to get to where she was. She rubbed shoulders with the elite, yet managed to keep her center solid. That was thanks in part to the boys she'd befriended and who protected her with loyalty that Ranka wouldn't have expected from people of their background. Then there was Tamaki, who would cut off his right hand for Haruhi if need be. There was no denying his devotion...nor his foolishness. However, Ranka had known this day was a long time coming. He just wished there was an easier way to ease Haruhi into this new life, with or without her most valiant defender.

"What is it you want to do?" he asked gently, resting his hand on Haruhi's shoulder.

"I want things to go back to the way they were," Haruhi said miserably.

Ranka smiled sadly.

"If only those wishes came true."

He stood and ruffled Haruhi's hair, handed back her phone. Haruhi stared at Tamaki's name in her call log, her eyes becoming unfocused as she did.

"Good night," Ranka said, not missing it. "Promise papa you'll try to get some rest, okay?"

"Okay."

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Even as she stared at the vocabulary list from her English class, Haruhi's mind kept drifting off to a land of unwelcome images. Tamaki meeting some French beauty, maybe even that same one who'd tried to take him all those years ago, and becoming engaged, their photographs all over the society pages. Their wedding, with all the members of the old Host Club, herself excluded, in attendance. Tamaki's attentions and flattering words all going towards that faceless woman who was his wife, who would bear his children, and rule the Suo Dynasty by his side...

It seemed as though a bit of his fancifulness had rubbed off on her after all.

"Haruhi!"

Raising her head, she found the object of her imaginings beaming a relieved smile at her. Tamaki threw himself down on the seat next to her, slinging an arm on the back of her chair, the sleeve of his shirt brushing against her neck. Haruhi's breath caught in her throat and she suddenly had the urge to run as far away from him as possible. Blinking, she worked to keep her expression neutral as Tamaki invaded her personal space like he always did.

"You're alright," he said with exaggerated relief, pressing his fingertips to his chest dramatically. "Haruhi, don't ever do that to me again. I thought that you were dead in a ditch somewhere or..."

"I'm busy," she said curtly, inching away from him and she turned her attention on his silent companion, anger blossoming inside her. "What are you doing here? Isn't there some chess game you have to get to?"

Kyoya didn't look the least bit guilty and she wanted to throw her book at him when he merely smiled. She hated that he could look so cool and collected, whereas she was sure that she looked as frazzled as she felt.

"Chess? Did you join a club without telling me? I thought we had no secrets!" Tamaki exclaimed, turning towards Kyoya, completely unaware of the tension emanating from her.

Haruhi made a sound that was between a sob and a laugh. Kyoya probably had more secrets than he had money. If Tamaki knew what Kyoya had done...

"You have no idea," she muttered, shoving at Tamaki's arm with more violence than was necessary. "Just go, alright? I have to study."

His eyes widened with shock then hurt. She half-expected him to slink off into a corner, but he must have seen something on her face that disturbed him because he didn't seem to know what to do.

"Okay. Whatever you want. Just...just give me a call when you have some time," he stammered.

She refused to meet his eyes, afraid that she would weaken if she did. He stood, but didn't move away from her. Slowly, he leaned down and took her chin in his fingertips so that she was forced to look at him. She'd looked into his eyes like this before, but not with the knowledge of how he felt, and she saw it all then, all that he wanted from her and with her. No tricks with eye drops or dramatic lightning. No roses or moonlight. It was just him and her, in the least romantic place in the world, and she saw it. He'd been showing her all this time, and she had never seen it.

Or refused to.

It was preposterous.

All of it.

But there it was.

And instead of wanting to run away even more, she realized she wanted to reach out and make him stay.

The knowledge of that was terrifying, but at the same time, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Mother in heaven...she loved him, too.

"Sometimes, you lose sight of the goal when things get too difficult, but I believe in you, Haruhi," Tamaki said with a small smile. "You can do this. I'll see you soon."

Haruhi watched mutely as he walked away from her, his shoulders hunched with disappointment. She was still reeling from her epiphany, bombarded with her own thoughts and emotions, so she could only watch him go, her words dissipating before she could get them out. What she wouldn't give for a good thunderstorm to keep her mind off this. Clenching her hand over her heart, she gritted her teeth against the unfamiliar ache. Oh, this was not good. Especially considering what she was supposed to be doing for his benefit.

Shooting an angry look at the man who was still standing by her table, Haruhi found a ready target for her frustrations.

"I'm doing what you'd asked," she spat at Kyoya angrily. "Why did you bring him here?"

"It's more like he brought me here. Once he starts worrying about you, there's no stopping him," Kyoya answered, and he offered Haruhi a small smile with warmth in it that surprised her. "You know what I've always liked about you, Haruhi? You never give up. Even when the odds are against you, you're stubborn enough to keep butting your head against the wall until either break through it or knock yourself out. What will happen now, I wonder? Are you going to make it through to the other side, or are you going to knock yourself out and forget that any of this ever happened?"

Staring at him, Haruhi realized that the Shadow King had struck again. Guilt settled in her belly as she recalled all the terrible things she'd thought about him, when he was actually trying to help her. If he'd simply told her that Tamaki loved her, she would have laughed in his face or done her best to try to cure Tamaki of those feelings—all without realizing how she herself felt. Thinking she had to stay away from Tamaki and the stress that the situation put on her did exactly as Kyoya had probably intended. Clearly, she didn't know him as well as she thought, and he still knew them both better than they knew themselves.

"Kyoya..." she started to say.

"Good luck with your studying," he said, glasses catching the reflection of the overhead lights.

Turning, he went to catch up with Tamaki, leaving Haruhi to her books and her thoughts.

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Her father was passed out in his room, tucked neatly underneath his blanket, but snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Haruhi padded in, put a hand on his shoulder, and roughly shook him awake.

"Dad," she said. "Dad, wake up."

"Mmmph..." Ranka mumbled, turning away from Haruhi and burying his face in his pillow.

"Dad, I need your help."

Those words had Ranka sitting straight up and grabbing Haruhi's shoulders.

"Anything you want, Haruhi. I'll do everything in my power to help you do whatever it is you want to do," Ranka said, his voice still hoarse from sleep, but his eyes bright. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear you say those words. What is it that you need, my dearest Haruhi?"

"I love Tamaki."

Ranka's hands dropped away and he gaped at Haruhi. Letting out a wail that their neighbors probably heard, Ranka covered his face with his hands and then threw his body forward, pounding his fists on the tatami mats.

"Why? Why, him, Haruhi? What did I do to deserve such a son-in-law? I know being an okama isn't the most respectable profession in the world, but I put clothes on your back—cute clothes, by the way—and food on the table. I know he's rich, but I will work until I'm old and wrinkled to get you through law school. After that you better remember how you got there..."

"Dad," Haruhi interrupted firmly. "I love him. That's that."

"Are you sure?" he asked meekly, reaching out and taking hold of the hem of her ratty shirt. "Are you absolutely sure it's him? What if he gets disowned by his grandmother for marrying a commoner, and you'll have to teach him how to live like a normal person? Imagine how difficult that would be because he's barely a normal abnormal person."

Letting out a breath, Haruhi stood up.

"Fine, I'll figure it out myself," she said resignedly. "Go back to sleep, Dad."

Eyes wide and shining with unshed tears, Ranka stared up at his daughter from his prone position. Haruhi's jaw had a decidedly determined set to it and her brown eyes were focused on a future that Ranka was hard-pressed to welcome. But, for the first time in his recollection, he saw that Haruhi finally wanted something for herself that was more important than a diploma. He wanted to start crying again, but for completely different reasons now.

Haruhi had been independent for a long time, but Ranka knew he still had a part of her for as long as he was the only man in her heart. The moment someone else entered, he would have to share his Haruhi.

The time had finally come for him to let his little girl go.

"Wait, wait," Ranka sighed, getting to his feet. "If you really want him, then I'll help you. But with what really? If you love him and he loves you, what's left to do? We're not planning a wedding, are we? You're too young! He's still too much of a fop to take care of his own family!"

At the door, Haruhi turned her head, her expression wry.

"Tamaki has no idea how he feels about me, so I just wanted to ask your opinion about how I could momentarily pull his head from the clouds," she said matter-of-factly. "Marriage is out of the question right now. I have a goal."

"Oh...good."

"So..."

Ranka squinted and studied Haruhi.

"Well, first thing's first," he said, trying to find the silver lining on this dark, ominous, and most unwelcome cloud. "You have to take him out on a date, and you're going to wear a pretty dress to do it."

"No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Yes."

"I'll figure it out on my own."

Haruhi started to leave, but Ranka caught her hand.

"Do you want this idiot boy or not?" he asked sternly.

Haruhi merely threw him a narrowed look.

"He already loves you when you're dressed like an ink-stained scholar, so imagine what'll happen if he sees you in something infinitely more...feminine," Ranka reasoned.

Haruhi hated to admit it, but he was right, and she let out a heavy sigh.

"Alright, but I don't want to look like a doily," she said.

Clapping his hands, Ranka let out a cheer, but quickly became serious again.

"The moment you change your mind about him, please let me know," he said. "I cannot stress this enough. Nothing would make me happier than to see you married to your job, buried under a pile of case files and legal pads. Don't let a man keep you from your goals. Your mother certainly didn't, and you've worked much too hard to let it all go to waste for a man whose suits cost more than our apartment and actually thinks that that fact is cute."

"Yes, Dad."

Father and daughter stared at each for a heartbeat. Haruhi smiled and let her father envelop her in another hug.

"Thanks, Dad," she said, patting his back.

"I just want you to be happy," he said.

"I know. And I am. I will be."

Ranka gave her one final squeeze before letting her go.
"Okay. What time is it?" he asked.

"Ten. Why?"

"Get changed. We're going shopping. We have a lot of work to do, young lady, so get moving."