Beauty Beholden
Chapter Three: Haruhi Revealed
Pale concrete, cracked and covered in old gum stared up at him as the waves of the masses ungulate around him. They side step around him, paying no heed to the red head with down casts eyes, staring a hole into the concrete. He wasn't sure what disgusted him more, the filthy ground, the unwashed masses that skittered around him, or the fact that he was actually here outside this gallery, Ouran Gallery. Hikaru grudgingly took his eyes off the ground, acknowledging the building before him for the first time. The building was in western style, nestled between two high rises. It looked newly remodeled in an opulent style reminiscent of a French Victorian. It seemed out of place, with its gilded sign, in sweeping gold letters it read, 'Ouran Gallery & Salon'
Hikaru snorted, 'What are they holding court?' He spent several more minutes critiquing their choice of exterior décor, before running out of reasons to not go inside. He didn't want to be here. Kaoru was usually the one who did all the paperwork; Hikaru was better at the numbers. He didn't have the finesse needed to hash out a contract.
But then again, he did want to come down, a lot. Ever since Haruhi had stumbled onto their secret, he couldn't get him out of his head. He couldn't get this place out of his head. Why did they want them so badly? What could their motivation be? Haruhi said it wasn't for political gain; he found that difficult to believe, everyone had a motive, there was no such thing as a pure person.
He should have let Kaoru come in his stead. They would have gotten a better deal; he was sure. Kaoru even expected to be the one coming out today. But Hikaru had beaten him to it, insisting he would go. Kaoru had given him a strange look, but in the end didn't argue.
Hikaru was terrified; staring at the double glass doors, framed in gold and ostentatious columns on white plastered walls. He'd already done a show six months ago. He shouldn't be doing one for another six months. He had agreed to do this show, with this no-name-gallery, because Haruhi had discovered their secret. Haruhi, he blundered in and opened up the doors to his skeleton closet.
He wanted to get to know him. He hated him for finding out.
He was terrified to be here. He was excited beyond reason.
He would continually be a walking contradiction.
'That's it, I'm leaving. I don't care if he knows. I'm not doing this.' Hikaru turned to walk away. He'd gone two steps, when he turned on his heal and marched up to the front door. His hand wavered over the handle. 'What am I doing? This is crazy!' If Kaoru were here with him, he could easily open the door. But Kaoru couldn't be here. Keeping their secret was crucial; they couldn't let anyone in.
"Why is it a secret?"
Hikaru gripped the door knob a little tighter, how could that idiot understand? Of course it didn't make sense to an outsider…
"... You're twins, so what? It's not like one of you is physically deformed or anything."
Haruhi's words kept ringing in his ears. How casually he'd brushed off the whole thing. Haruhi had planned on walking out of there that day. Out of their lives forever… They had to stop him… They couldn't let him escape.
"DAMN HIM," Hikaru shouted.
A few people on the street turned to look at his angry outburst; Hikaru ignored them. With a white knuckle grip, he threw open the doors to the gallery, blundering inside heedless of where he was going. He saw a receptionist desk; he stomped towards it.
"I'm here to see, Haruhi Fujioka," he demanded.
The short blond behind the desk stared up at him with wide childish, brown eyes.
"Are you Hika-chan?" he asked hopefully.
The color drained from Hikaru's face and his vision cleared. Did this guy just called him Hika-chan, and how old was this kid anyway?
Hikaru furrowed his brows at the young boy, "I'm Hikaru Hitachiin," he said crisply switching to business mode. He needed to learn to keep his temper under control –that was another reason Kaoru usually did this sort of thing for them-.
The boy behind the desk jumped up and threw himself at Hikaru, wrapping his arms around his neck.
"I'm so excited to meet you, Hika-chan, my name is Mitsukuni Haninozuka, but everyone calls me Honey, you can call me that too."
"What the hell are you talking about," Hikaru said, peeling the young boy off his shoulders.
"That guy over there is Takashi Morinozuka, but we call him Mori, he's head of security," Honey continued, ignoring Hikaru's outburst, he pointed at a dark haired man sitting at a smaller desk a few feet away.
"Hey," Mori grunted.
Honey smiled up at him brightly as Hikaru tried to process everything. His conclusion: this place is insane.
"You're here to see Haru-chan?" Honey asked breaking his daze.
"Huh, yeah," Hikaru replied, "Is he here?"
A strange smile lit up the boy's face, "Oh, well Haru-chan isn't here right now. He went out to do some shopping," Honey giggled looking over at Mori.
"Oh," Hikaru waffled for a minute, should he leave then? He only really came down to see Haruhi.
"But Tama-chan has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. He told me, to tell you, to meet him in The Salon when you arrive."
"The Salon? You really have a salon room here?" Hikaru asked unable to keep the contempt from his voice. This place was ridiculous.
"Yup." Honey beamed. "Just down that hallway and to the left," Honey gestured to a long white hallway, lined in purple draperies and antique vases on pedestals.
'This place is like some kind of strange French palace… how tacky.'
Hikaru strolled down the long hallway, taking no heed of the expensive art work that graced the walls. He was arrogant in his own talents and had no time to appreciate the work of others, no matter how skilled. Down the hall a ways, was a wooden door inlaid with more gold leaf, and even more French Victorian details. The door was slightly ajar and as Hikaru's shadow filled the doorway, a smooth voice called out to him.
"Come in," It greeted.
Hikaru stifled a laugh, 'What is he trying to seduce me?'
Hikaru nudged open the door, sitting on a pink, French Victorian style chase was an admittedly handsome blond. He wore a loose white cotton t-shirt, slightly unbuttoned, and a pair of loose pants in a cream color.
He looked a bit like a hero from the cover of a romance novel, minus the long flowing hair.
Hikaru really did laugh then.
His host stared back at him as Hikaru held his sides in uncontrollable laughter.
"What's so funny," he asked mildly.
Hikaru gasped for breath as he answered, "You… look… like… a… romance…novel… hero…" Hikaru fell to his knees in uncontrolled laughter.
"Well, that is the point, that's today's theme after all," His host stood and sauntered over to him. "Hikaru Hitachiin, I presume. Nice to meet you I'm Tamaki Suoh."
Hikaru finally caught his breath. He looked up at the out stretched hand offered to him and simply brushed it off, walking past him to take a seat.
"Theme?" he asked sarcastically, plopping himself down onto a cushiony couch.
"Why yes, we often have dress up days in different themes. It makes things more interesting," Tamaki explained mildly.
"What kind of gallery is this?" Hikaru said more to himself than anyone else.
"Like none you've ever experienced," Tamaki took a seat on the couch across from Hikaru, crossing his legs elegantly, "Not only do we showcase the finest art here, we entertain as well. We are Salon and Gallery."
Hikaru blinked at him, 'What does this guy think he's a prince or something…?'
"And now that you're here. We are truly complete!"
"I knew it…" Hikaru's lips turned in a cruel smile, "You are trying to collect big names to give yourself a political boost. Well I'll have you know, you can't use the Hitachiin name; you use me and you're done in this town." Hikaru could feel his anger boiling over. How could he have listened to Haruhi's words from the other day? Of course Tamaki was using him, that's all anyone ever did was use them. Tamaki was no different.
"You miss understand," Tamaki said quietly, in a tone Hikaru hated to admit, but it was very engaging. "I'm not speaking of the gallery being complete. Now that you've joined us, our family is complete."
Family.
Hikaru blinked at him trying to clear his racing mind. Had he just used the word family? He couldn't have heard him right. There must be something in his ears…
His first impulse was to get angry, but he couldn't bring himself to do so, he was too shocked.
"eh-family?" Hikaru stuttered.
"Yes, I've wanted you to join my family for a long time and now you have. In fact." Tamaki stood abruptly, his finger pointed towards the sky, "We should have a Welcome Party for you." His finger came crashing down to make a dramatic point at Hikaru, "By the way, when's your birthday? And what's your favorite color. If we're going to cos-play, what are your favorite characters?-"
Hikaru sat in stunned silence as he let the over exuberant Tamaki's words wash over him; there was no room for reply. Tamaki wanted him for his 'family'. Why did those words affect him this way, they rattled around in his brain echoing around the empty parts of his heart…
These people, Haruhi and Tamaki they were opening up his heart; he was terrified, but at the same time exhilarated.
"I know, let me give you a tour of the gallery!" Tamaki shouted. He grabbed Hikaru by the arm and before he could protest he was dragging him out the room.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
The gallery was suspiciously quiet as Haruhi stumbled through the door, her arms over laden with grocery bags. Normally within five feet of the door, she was being attacked by someone. But she somehow managed to get to the kitchen completely unscathed. It was unprecedented.
'Where is everyone?' she wondered idly, stacking cartons of instant coffee onto the counter. She managed to put away all the groceries and get all related garbage thrown away without a single interruption. 'Now I'm really suspicious; something's up.'
Haruhi poked her head out of the kitchen door and down the long hallway towards the offices. Not a sound could be heard. She looked over her shoulder to the golden clock on the wall. It was just past two in the afternoon. Everyone should be here, but where were they?
Haruhi was left with two options, investigate the suspicious calm or take advantage of everyone's absence to get some much needed studying in, before her exams; which were only a few weeks away. Never one to chase after her curious impulses; Haruhi opted to study instead.
She scurried down the hall to her office, where her book bag was waiting for her on her desk. She eased herself down at her desk, relaxing into her office chair, a satisfied smile pulling her lips. Finally, she would get some uninterrupted study time in. She cracked open her text book, the smell of new paper and ink filled her nostrils. She sighed blissfully, taking out her note book and pen.
She went to work.
After a few seconds, she looked up. Glancing around the room nervously, only to shake her head and look back to her notes.
She waited a few more minutes before repeating the process.
When she did it a third time, she had to really give herself pause. 'They interrupt me so often; I'm starting to interrupt myself,' she thought woefully.
A few more minutes ticked by and Haruhi had yet to make it off the first page of her book. 'Maybe I should take a break and make some nice tea to calm me down.'
'Yeah, that sounds perfect.' She headed down the hall, glancing over her shoulder more than once, expecting to see someone coming after her with some need or another. But no one came.
She managed to boil a pot of water, steep her tea, and add just a touch of honey, without a single interruption.
'What is going on?' she wondered.
She glanced down the hallway once more; just to be sure she wasn't losing her mind, when the faint sound of voices carried to her ear. 'So, they are here.'
Haruhi stood in the doorway indecisively for a few moments. Her tea warmed her hands and curls of steam wafted up to her face. 'I could ask the other's if they want some tea.' Truth be told, she'd boiled enough water for all of them…
Very gently, Haruhi tiptoed down the hallway, then out into the main hallway that led to gallery and The Salon. The voices became more urgent and fever pitched the closer she got. Her pace became a little more urgent, maybe something was wrong and she'd been too oblivious to notice. She started to speed walk down the hall.
She ran through the open doorway, tea clutched tightly in her hands. Her foot was just over the threshold when a body flew through the air towards her. All she saw was blur of red and blue as it collided with her chest. In the ensuing confusion, she threw her tea cup into the air sending it spiraling in a dramatic arch spraying her and whoever had run into her in hot tea.
The wind was knocked out of her, leaving her disoriented. She closed her eyes for a moment trying to readjust. She was pinned to the wall by another body. Hands were snaked around her waist, and a head was resting on her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open meeting golden cat-eyes.
Her brain felt a little fogged and it took her a moment to register the face.
"Hika-"
She was cut off by the alarmed shouts of Tamaki, "Haruhi! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she replied mildly.
Hikaru stared at her, a small blush creeping up his face as he climbed off of her.
Tamaki was on her in a second, grabbing her shoulders, looking her up and down, "But, Haruhi, you're all wet! Is that blood?" he screeched with alarm.
Haruhi looked down at her stained clothes. Red tea had turned her baggy white shirt pink. "It's just tea," Haruhi said shrugging off his grip. She stooped down to pick up her broken tea cup. Meanwhile, Tamaki launched into a tangent, directed at Mori, about endangering his little girl with his kendo demonstration.
Hikaru watched her with a curious expression on his face, "You alright," she asked noticing his tea drenched clothes.
"I'm fine," he snapped, his expression sharpening.
She shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the group, who were starting at the pair of them.
"Well, this certainly is a mess and we can't have our newest artist covered in tea," Kyouya stated. "Haruhi, why don't you show Hikaru to the changing room and find him some fresh clothes to change into, as well."
"Alright," Haruhi replied, things like this happened all too often at Ouran Gallery.
"And, Haruhi, that tea cup was an heirloom. I'll have to add it to your debt," Kyouya added in an even tone.
Haruhi grumbled under her breath, 'great' before turning to Hikaru, "The changing room is back this way," she offered kindly, motioning to the back of the salon.
"Whatever," Hikaru replied not meeting her gaze.
She shrugged her shoulders and led him out.
"Oh, Haruhi!" Tamaki called, "Daddy set aside a special outfit for you to wear today. So make sure you put it on."
Haruhi only shook her head as she let the door fall closed behind Hikaru and her.
"You can use that changing room," Haruhi pointed to a gilded door with a mirror mounted on the front, "there should be some clothes inside that may fit you."
"Thanks," Hikaru replied disappearing into the dressing room.
Once inside, Hikaru let out the breath he'd been holding. What was wrong with him? He'd been blushing after he'd run into Haruhi. Had Haruhi finding out his secret really affected him this much? Enough to where he'd blush over another guy? It had to be embarrassment over nearly bowling him over -a result of a practice throw Mori had used him for-
Hikaru picked through a rack of clothes, to distract him from his own thoughts, settling on a button down shirt and a pair of black slacks. They weren't a perfect fit, but pretty close considering. He balled up his soiled clothes up and tossed them in a laundry basket in the corner. He'd get them back later, or not. He wasn't that attached to them.
He stepped out of the changing room and into the bright florescent lights of the anteroom.
"Haruhi, I'm done in here, if you want to-" he was cut short as Haruhi emerged from the changing room besides him, wearing a soft pink chiffon dress. The free moving fabric fell about Haruhi's ankles and was cut high on the waist extenuating the very few feminine curves she possessed.
Hikaru sputtered a few minutes, Haruhi was in a dress… but he thought Haruhi was a guy… but now that he-she-it was in a dress he wasn't sure.
"Haruhi?" he asked slowly.
"Yeah?"
"Why are you in a dress?" he continued.
"Tamaki likes to make me dress girly. He says 'young ladies should dress like young ladies'," She parroted.
"So, you're a girl."
"Yeah, I guess…"
A blush crept up his face. Haruhi was a girl. Why did that make his heart beat just a little faster? And why did some part of him feel relieved and intrigued.
The others burst in, and Tamaki gathered Haruhi up in his arms, exclaiming about how cute she looked in her dress. Then they all converged on Hikaru bringing him into their fold.
They wanted him to be part of their family, Haruhi was a girl, and his world was opening up little by little.
Hikaru was terrified.
A/N:
A couple notes for this chapter.
First, this chapter has been dedicated to Fairy of the Flames for all of her inspiring reviews. :D
Secondly, when I refer to 'Salon' I don't mean a hair Salon, rather an old fashioned reception salon that was popular for entertaining back in the 17th-18th century.
Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review this story so far. It really keeps me motivated. :D
