I edited the last chapter slightly, mostly to make Haruhi a bit more in character. The differences are all just minor, though.
Thank you to everyone who has read this story, added it to their alerts and/or faves, and reviewed so far.

Chapter 4: The Best There Was in Me

I stared hard at the painting before me, wondering what could possibly be done to make it look like something that resembled art. I decidedly added a few strokes of green to the background, and I somehow managed to make the painting even more hideous.

I'm hopeless, I thought wearily, setting my brush down in defeat.

Suddenly, the classroom door flew open, and Kaoru walked in, alone. He made his way to shelf by the window where all the finished paintings are kept, not noticing me at the back of the art room. He found his own painting among the others, a gorgeous landscape that practically looked like an enlarged photograph from where I was sitting.

"Kaoru?" I said to get his attention.

He jumped a little when I said his name, but he swiftly recovered and set his work down on a desk, coming over to me.

As he walked toward me, he said, "Haruhi, what are you doing here after school? I figured that you would be one to fly out of here as soon as the last bell rings on days when we don't have host club."

"That's what I normally do, but I have to stay after today to fix this painting," I said, frowning at the mess in front of me once again.

"Fix it? I thought the painting project was due today during class," he said, standing behind the easel with his hands in his pockets and looking over the canvas at me.

"It was. The teacher gave me an extension, though. She said she knew that I had tried and that I wanted to get a good grade on the project, but she also said that the painting was awful and that there was no way that she, as a self-respecting artist, could give me an A for this. She gave me until tomorrow to fix it with no penalty, but I don't know how I can make this disaster any better."

Kaoru's eyes widened. "She said all that? It can't be that bad," he said skeptically, stepping around the easel to see the painting.

He looked at it, and all that came out was, "Oh..."

I sighed. "Yeah, I know it's bad. Art is not my strong point."

Still staring at the painting and looking slightly repulsed, he said, "Is that why you always stay in the very back of the classroom? So that others won't see your horrible art and be offended by your complete lack of artistic talent?"

Ouch. Such harsh words... but I suppose he's just telling it like he sees it, so I can't blame him...

"Yes," I admitted. "I'm actually surprised that you haven't seen any of my horrible art before now. Come to think of it, this is the only class I have where you and Hikaru aren't always all over me."

He gave an embarrassed laugh, scratching the back of his head.

"Heh, I guess Hikaru and I like to get into our art."

"Yes, you and Hikaru are both very talented, but I think you love it more than Hikaru does. Whenever you have a white canvas or a block of clay or a blank sheet of paper in front of you," I observed, "you really get lost in it."

A faint blush appeared on his cheeks, and he stared at me with that look he gives his blank canvases, his eyes round and thoughtful.

"Are you okay, Kaoru?" I asked, concerned at this sudden change in him.

After blinking a few times, he said, "Yeah... I'm fine."

The heat came on a few minutes ago, I thought. Maybe he's just feeling warm?

He suddenly snapped out of it and asked, "Would you like some help, Haruhi?"

He turned away from me and turned to my painting, picking up the brush that I had set down. As his hand neared the canvas, I reached out and snatched my brush back, which seemed to surprise him.

"No, you can't do that! It wouldn't be right," I told him worriedly, my heart racing a bit at the thought of cheating in such a way.

He gave a small smile, saying, "Ah, innocent little Haruhi... Okay, I'll help you in a different way. You see, it just so happens that our art teacher's husband works for my mother's company. If I put in a call right now, I can make sure that you get an A on this project. Otherwise, her husband will be unemployed by morning."

He had that sly look on his face, and I just looked at him in disbelief.

"Kaoru! You can't do that! That's terrible!" I cried, feeling like I was about to fall off of my stool.

"I'm just kidding, Haruhi, sheesh!" he said with a nervous laugh that made me think that he hadn't been kidding. "Can I just give you some advice, then?"

"I... suppose that wouldn't hurt," I said, after taking a moment to think about it.

He took a step back and looked the painting up and down once more, and then he snatched it off the easel and stuffed it in the garbage can, much to my horror.

"Is it that irreparable?" I asked with exasperation, standing up now.

"Unforgivably so, I'm afraid," he said as he got a new canvas for me to butcher.

He set it on the easel and lightly pushed me back down onto the stool.

"Now, Haruhi, I know that after that last painting, it would be easy to lose all hope, but I believe no case is completely lost-"

"You made me take this class!" I protested, cutting him off and reminding him of when he and Hikaru had planned out my electives.

"I thought that you would be good at it!" he exclaimed back at me, matching my tone.

His outburst, of course, was louder than mine, and I was a bit taken aback. I think he could tell, because he immediately looked regretful.

"And you know that you need a fine arts credit to graduate," he added more quietly, not looking at me.

"I'm sorry, Kaoru," immediately came out of my mouth in response. He cocked his head at me, and I said, "Starting the project over is a good idea. I shouldn't be so rude to you."

"Haruhi, don't-"

"I think I was just momentarily overwhelmed by the thought of bringing another one of my paintings into the world. I'm sorry," I finished, feeling the need to apologize a second time.

Instead of addressing what I had just said, he looked back to the canvas and said softly, "Let me teach you what you won't learn in this class, Haruhi."

He continued to stare at the white space before him, as if he had to wait for it to tell him the right words to say.

"The essence of art is meaning," he said. "Everything that is created must have a reason behind it- otherwise, it's pointless."

"Okay," I said, thinking that I got what he was trying to say. I said confidently, "My reason for doing this painting is to get an A."

Now that I had my purpose defined, I was set to make something worthy of being called art. Or so I thought.

I picked up the paintbrush and was about to make a stroke on the canvas, but Kaoru was the one to snatch the brush away this time.

"Haruhi, that's not how it works," he said, looking genuinely concerned.

I frowned. "Then how does it work?"

"You're thinking too black and white, Haruhi," he said, gripping the paintbrush so that I couldn't get to it again. "...and art is so much more than black and white."

"I was actually going to start with green," I pointed out, gesturing to the green tip of the brush he was holding.

He slapped his forehead, but I had no idea what I had done wrong.

"Haruhi, stop thinking, and just... just listen to me," he asked almost imploringly.

"Okay," I said, taking a breath and trying to clear my mind, wanting to trust his artistic opinion.

He explained, "When you're writing an essay, every word you put into it has a reason for being there. When you're doing a math problem, each step is important to getting to the final answer. With painting, every stroke should have a reason for being there and should ultimately make up the bigger picture."

I nodded, finally understanding something that he was trying to get through my head. He was using things that I understood, things that I could relate to.

As he absentmindedly twirled the brush in his fingers, he continued, "The purpose of art is not just to display extraordinary skill or to produce pretty products; it's to create. To create is the highest form of thinking. The purpose of art is to convey a message without words. Some people are better than others at saying things without saying them. I... I'm not," he said, looking at the floor.

"Are you sure that you're not?" I asked, thinking that if he was such a good artist, he would be able to do this wordless conveying quite well.

Then, for reasons I can't explain, he gave me a long, hard stare. Our eyes were locked while I waited for him to answer, but he looked more like he was waiting for some sort of answer from me. I didn't know what he wanted me to say or what to say at all, so I just stared back blankly.

He tore his eyes from mine and said, "Yes, Haruhi, I'm sure."

He looks pained, I thought. Maybe it's the heat getting to him again.

Before I could ask him about it, he said, "You have to reach deep down inside of you- maybe to a place that you've always been afraid to go to- and pull out something that is a part of you..."

The first thing I saw in my mind was me putting my arm down my throat and pulling out my heart, beating and bloody and all. The thought made me shudder, but he didn't notice as he was getting lost in the canvas again.

I'm being too literal, I thought.

And that's when I also realized that I was being too black and white.

I wanted to slap my own forehead.

But then the significance of all of his words really sunk in, and he spoke again.

"...and when you pull that something out, you have to show it to the world. You have to show it to the world and at the same time not care what anyone else thinks about it."

"But, Kaoru, what if I don't have anything worth showing the world?" I asked, watching the paintbrush in his hand and knowing that it was much better off in his hands than mine.

However, his twirling of the brush stopped after I stopped speaking. I watched his knuckles go white around it, and then the brush fell to the ground, getting green paint on the floor.

My eyes went from the brush to his face, and I was surprised to see suppressed anger there.

"Kaoru?"

"How dare you say that," he said tightly.

Did I offend him in some way? I thought worriedly. What did I say to anger him?

"Everyone has something valuable to give to the world. All people have a reason for having been created. Otherwise... it's pointless," he said more calmly, but still seeming strained. "No one is pointless. Especially not you, Haruhi."

He finally looked back up at me, but I only could see the pain in his eyes for a moment before he bent down to pick up the fallen brush and turned away.

Silence took over the room, save for the sound of the incessant heater. Kaoru went to the sink to rinse the brush off and get a paper towel to clean the paint off of the floor. I looked away from him and turned my attention squarely on the canvas. The overwhelmed feeling only returned, and I tried to figure out what the problem was.

"You know," I finally said, making Kaoru freeze as he was about to throw the paper towel away, "I've been feeling pretty useless lately."

I didn't want to look at him to see his reaction, so I continued on, "I mean, there was the incident at the park where I couldn't defend myself and Honey-senpai had to save me. There was a couple of weeks ago when I had laryngitis and was too stubborn to just go home and try and get well, and Mori-senpai had to step in. Then a couple of days ago, I dropped my contacts down the sink and was too blind to even find my way out of the restroom, and Kyoya-senpai had to get me new contacts so that I could function. Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate having such good friends that are willing to help me, but I wish that I need didn't help so often, that I didn't have so many huge faults. Even now, I'm at the top of the class but can't produce a simple painting to save my grade."

I finished, not knowing why I had just said all of that but feeling the slightest relief at having gotten it out.

Kaoru observed me, looking somewhat bewildered, and muttered, "So many huge faults? Are you kidding me?"

Something knotted in my stomach.

Perhaps I've said too much...

Kaoru pulled a chair up next to my stool, and I turned sideways to face it. He turned it so its back was facing me and then sat in it, folding his arms on top of the chair's back.

"Listen to me. Your bad vision is not your fault."

"It's my fault that I lost my contacts," I said.

He shook his head.

"Listen to me, Haruhi," he said seriously, closing both of his hands tightly around one of mine.

That got my attention.

"Your vision is not your fault," he repeated. "Everyone makes clumsy little mistakes once in a while. Getting sick was not your fault, and it's not a terrible thing that you wanted to push through school despite your sickness. That just shows how dedicated you are, and how strong-willed you are, and how you're going to succeed at anything you put your mind to, because you're willing to go the extra mile. Being attacked by those four men was not your fault, and you're not a completely weak person just because you happen to be like most people who can't take on four men alone."

He was trying to justify my faults. Another person making up for my faults...

He continued, "You know what is your fault? It's your fault that you're so lovable."

"Kaoru?"

He ignored my interruption.

"You're so excruciatingly lovable, Haruhi. It's kind of ridiculous. The people who love you would do anything for you, and you're not loved for no good reason. There are a million things about you that make you amazing, but somehow, you're the only one who isn't aware of that. I can't even start to name everything that is great about you, because that would take forever and make me feel more embarrassed and cheesy than I already do, which shouldn't even be possible. You don't see the impact you have on people, so you don't know how huge that impact really is."

His eyes were glued to the ground yet again, but his hands were still securely around my hand.

My face was warm, but I had a feeling that it wasn't because of the heater.

Where was that usual devilish Kaoru? When did he become this reluctant gentleman?

Not that I minded it.

Because maybe his words, even if they seemed to be quite exaggerated, were exactly what I needed to hear.

He eventually said, "Haruhi, do this painting. Be as honest to this canvas as you are to everyone else. If anything at all from inside you shows up on that canvas, then it's definitely going to be beautiful."

He looked me in the eyes on the last word and just stared for a moment. He then quickly released my hand and made his way toward the front of the classroom.

"I have to get going," he said, picking up his painting in a sudden hurry. "Hikaru is waiting for me in the library. He's probably wondering where I am by now."

Before he could bolt out the door, I said, "Kaoru, wait!"

He paused and looked at me.

All I could manage to say was, "Thank you, Kaoru."

The worry on his face seemed to melt away, and he smiled at me, which of course I couldn't help but return.

"You're welcome, Haruhi. Always," he said, and then he turned and exited the art room.

My mind was reeling, going back over all that had been said. I was grateful and humbled and reassured and confused all at once. It was all mixed up inside of me and needed to be released.

That's when I looked back to the canvas in front of me.

That's when I decided to tell it what was on my heart.

And that's how I avoided failing art class.

This chapter has so much... stuff in it. Lots of symbolism and irony and subtle little things...
I love Kaoru a lot in this chapter. Maybe because he shares my opinions on art. XD
But seriously, I think this chapter has an underlying sadness that the others don't. I sympathize with Kaoru.
What do you think?

-Skye