Time had frozen for all of an instant, but that short time seemed an eternity to Tamaki. Engaged? Of course. Of course, she would be engaged, wouldn't she? She was so… wonderful, so perfect, so utterly Haruhi that someone had been bound to scoop her up and away and…
He shouldn't really mind so much. He… He was married, after all.
The various emotions played on his face so quickly: surprise, hurt, sadness… acceptance, though the sadness didn't exactly go away. He cleared his throat with a cough and shifted Kimiko on his side as he looked back to Haruhi. He tok a moment, just looking at her, gathering his thoughts—something that, for him, was rather rare. Tamaki usually had always been one to put his feelings outright.
But then, who are you kidding? he thought to himself with some dismay. You never mention the thoughts about Haruhi that keep you dreaming of her every night, never mention the memories and wishes that play out every time you close your eyes. You kept that much secret… So maybe you don't quite wear your heart on your sleeve as much as you once did before.
"Well…. Congratulations," he said slowly, forcing a smile. Oh, God, how he hoped that she couldn't see through that smile, even though she always could. Please, just this once, let Haruhi's ability to read Tamaki be put on hold. "There's… Well… I want to… to see her," he went on, absentmindedly reaching for and fiddling with Kimiko's hand. The little girl didn't seem to mind. And you. I want to see you, too, but if another has your heart… I left. I have no right to it.
Haruhi nodded, and if she did sense the factitiousness in Tamaki's gaze, she wasn't bringing it up. At least, not in front of Kimiko. "I would love that," she said, smiling back to him. There. In her eyes. Was her smile false, too? "I never meant to keep her from you. I…" She blushed some as she looked away, and it was all the blond could do not to pull her into his arms again. "…I have shown her your picture before. I told her that you… That you were her father. I never kept that from her. I'll admit, my father wasn't exactly happy with anything when he found out, either." Tamaki flinched; the memory of Ranka's wrath was another all-too-vivid one. "…But I told him I thought it was best that Kimiko not be lied to."
"I… thank you. For that," Tamaki said slowly, then turned his attention to the girl in his arms again, the one who had decided to rest her head against his shoulder and started playing with the buttons near his collar. He chuckled, lifting her hand from its quiet playing and giving it a little kiss. "Sweet little princess… Maybe that's why you ran to me? You recognized your… Papa?" The word nearly sent him into another crying fit to say, but he smiled a bit at the same time.
Kimiko nodded, answering by hugging him a little tighter, a simple gesture that was internally melting all of Tamaki's being. "…Otousan. Papa," she echoed, then closing her eyes and insisting on playing with his buttons again.
Haruhi and Tamaki both couldn't help the little laugh at that, and Tamaki let his gaze rise back to her. "And what about… " he started, his eyes drifting towards the ring on her finger again. She followed his gaze, and slipped the hand behind her own back, blushing as though caught at doing something bad. "…He's good to her? He's accepting and everything of Kimiko and… and he's good to you?"
Haruhi swallowed, and Tamaki wasn't sure how to react to the smile she gave him then. "He… is. He always has been, to the both of us. And I mentioned, if we ever had contact with you, that I… I want you to be part of Kimiko's life. I know you want to be part of her life. And he… he said that makes sense," she explained. She couldn't seem to look at him directly, her eyes flitting about as she had spoken. When she finished, she gave another smile and managed to look to him again. "Ah. We can't just keep talking in the middle of the market, can we? Do you want to… go have a seat?" She gestured over towards some nearby benches.
Tamaki muttered his agreement, shifting once more with Kimiko on his hip. "Sure. I think she's settling down for a nap anyway," he said, smiling again.
"It is about her nap time. And she had all the added excitement of meeting her father today… She's probably pretty exhausted."
They sat, and though the bench was small, Tamaki ached to be closer to her. Every little part of him longed to not just be holding Kimiko, but to be holding Haruhi, too, holding their daughter together, making up for all the time he was gone, promising to take care of her extra, extra well for several long years to come…
But that would be someone else's job now.
"So…" Haruhi started, thankfully taking the initiative for an awkward conversation. "How's Mayumi?"
"She's… fine."
How was Tamaki supposed to answer that? 'Oh, she's fine, except Grandmother didn't exactly get what she paid for because Mayumi doesn't want to give her any more heirs.' 'Oh, yeah, she's wonderful, but I want you, and I always have.' 'She's a good wife and I can love her but never like I love you.' None of those would have exactly worked.
He cleared his throat again and went on. "I was out to get some cakes for her at market she likes. I didn't see any in though; I think that vendor's away this time," he said instead. There. Best to speak of more trivial things.
"I see," Haruhi said. Her hands were clasped on her lap now, one constantly fretting over the band on her finger, which she stared at with an expression that Tamaki couldn't quite read. "Did you two… I mean…" There was a pause, and Haruhi looked up to give him another little smile, one that maybe… just maybe… held about as little truth as his own had. "Have any kids? The two of you, I mean."
"No," Tamaki answered, the word almost coming out too fast, almost angry. Yet… What was that then, when he had said that? Had Haruhi… sighed? If so, why? Almost with… relief. Oh, but surely Tamaki was letting his imagination get the better of him, then. "Mayumi… Mayumi worries about weight gain," he admitted with a bit of a shrug.
Haruhi's eyes widened a moment, a brown eyebrow raising some. "Oh? A little vain, isn't it?" She then shook her head, dismissing her own words. "No. I'm sorry, that wasn't right of me to say. I'm sure she has all manner of reasons, and that's your business anyway." Haruhi tried to offer him a smile, then reached over. The blond thought for a moment that she would cup his cheek, but then she had instead tucked some of Kimiko's hair aside. The little girl was sleeping now, oblivious to the conversation and attached emotions that surrounded her. "You could always reassure her it comes off a little easier than you might think. And it's definitely worth it."
Tamaki nodded slowly. "Yeah… I could do that," he answered, then raising one hand to Haruhi's. He caught that hand in his own, a gesture that reminded him of a night they had spent together. "You never… regretted it?" he said, barely a whisper.
"Not one moment," Haruhi whispered back, with no hesitation. She let him keep hold of her hand, and he was thankful. "It was a lot of hard work, and finishing school was tough, but I managed. And I even had help from… Well, from my fiancé." The word stabbed Tamaki like a million swords, but he kept quiet, kept her hand in his. "His, uh…. Business. Offered to handle almost all of the costs of things. I guess being at Ouran, getting to know a few more wealthy people, it had some… advantages. Not that I let him provide all the money, of course! I worked through a lot of it."
Tamaki let out the slightest of laughs at that: a cold, empty laugh that hurt almost as much to hear as it did to create. "I wouldn't doubt that. You've always been strong. Self-sufficient." Another awkward, emotion-filled pause. "I… I can have your contact information?"
Haruhi blinked as though in surprise, and then nodded, pulling away from his touch. His hand ached as the space where hers had once been began to cool. "Right. And I'll have yours, and…" She was pulling a small notepad from her pocket and scribbling away quickly, and Tamaki watched her intently. "…And…" She looked up at him a moment, apology so evident in her brown eyes. "…If Mayumi needs to talk about anything, I'd be happy to reassure her, too. I really hope that this doesn't…. That you two don't end up fighting on account of this."
Another fake smile. "Oh, Haruhi. You always worry so much. I'm sure everything will be alright." Right. And tomorrow, I'll grow wings and learn to fly. He read off his own contact information, letting her write it all down since Kimiko was still sleeping in his arms. The slight weight of the girl there was an aching reminder—he couldn't hold her forever. Or even Haruhi. He'd have to let the both of them go, and soon. He had a wife to go home to, and she, a fiancé.
No sooner had this fear of leaving crossed his mind then a vehicle was pulling up rather close by. It was a nice looking car, and the driver that stepped out was clearly a professional. He gave a polite bow towards Haruhi, and spoke with an even tone in her native Japanese. "Miss Fujioka, were you two ready to go?" he asked.
Haruhi nodded. "Mhm. Just a second," she said, then standing. Tamaki watched her every move, drinking in her image. It wouldn't be the last time he saw her, not anymore, not now that he knew of Kimiko, but… still…
She turned her attention to the both of them, folding and tucking away her contact information into Tamaki's front shirt-pocket. The blond nearly shuddered at the gesture, however simple it had been. She then leaned forward, presumably to pick up the sleeping girl, and Tamaki shifted to assist in passing her over.
Then, making the blond nearly die right on the spot, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. He may have let out a little whimper in the instant when he felt her lips against his skin, so many flashbacks of the most beautiful moment in his life, that fateful night they had created the girl now sleeping in his arms, passing over his mental gaze.
But then, the little kiss was pulled away, ended, killed, and Haruhi was looking back to him, Kimiko now in her arms instead of his. The blond wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep hold of the memory of the gentle heat of his daughter, now out of his grasp.
Haruhi gave Tamaki another smile. Her eyes looked so sad again, and Tamaki longed to take all that sadness away. But it wasn't something he had the capability of doing.
"I'll… call you then. Or you me. And we'll set something up?" she asked.
Such a simple question, but it meant so much. "Yes. Yes, I'll call."
And for the second time in all too short of a time—What was five years? Everything he ever felt for Haruhi was still there, as strong as before, if not stronger, but he could do nothing—he watched her walk away.
The driver opened her door, and first the love of Tamaki's life spent a couple moments getting Kimiko in, safely buckling her up in her seat. Tamaki watched, the entire thing like a horrible tragedy. He could say something, but what good would it do? The actors would still play their parts.
Haruhi finished, and got into the car, and Tamaki wasn't sure if her gaze was avoiding him intentionally or coincidentally. All for the best, when his own was clouding again with tears. Of course, he couldn't tell that hers was, too, tears falling silently down her cheeks, though she kept her head level, her posture strong.
The car was driving away, and Tamaki watched. He watched, slouching, aching to have had something better to say or do or—
What was that?
There.
On the license plate.
A marker of some sort.
A crest, a symbol, a logo, a—
For not the first time in that day, as he recognized it, Tamaki felt like his heart stopped.
Ootori.
