Toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, Haruhi playfully nudged Kyoya's foot on her way to the kitchen. Caught somewhere between sleep and consciousness, he stirred, a startled noise rumbling in the back of his throat.

She retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and set it down in front of the boy, smiling angelically when he scowled at her, toothpaste trickling down her chin. After one failed attempt at speaking that almost resulted in Kyoya getting sprayed with toothpaste, he pushed her back towards the bathroom.

"You told me to keep you awake." Haruhi reminded, now able to form coherent words.

Fingers sluggishly dragging through his hair, Kyoya mentally questioned his choice in friends. "I'm beginning to regret that decision."

"It's your own fault." She splashed some water over her face, levelling him with a severe look as she began patting it dry. "I shouldn't have to be around for you to go to bed at a decent time, Kyoya-senpai."

He dismissed her words with a lazy wave of his hand, only sinking further into his bean bag as he lifted his book back onto his lap. "Inconsequential. I'm hardly about to drop dead, so do quit making such a fuss."

She heaved a sigh and dropped down next to him, almost knocking not only his supplies to the floor, but him as well. A beat, and then she shoved him off anyway. He deserved it, for all the worry he caused her, clattering into the apartment looking more dead than alive. Kyoya's extended legs came back down on the plush seat with a heavy thump. Exasperated, he blew a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

"I hate you."

Her expression morphed into the picture of innocence.

Kyoya kicked her off the bean bag.

A sudden hammering at the door interrupted Haruhi's attempt to trip the boy as he clambered back to his feet. Kyoya himself froze in an extremely awkward crouch, head slowly arcing over to her.

"Are you expecting anyone?"

Brows furrowed, Haruhi shook her head.

By some telepathic conversation, Kyoya cautiously led the way over, Haruhi snatching up a broom along the way. Fingers ghosting the handle, Kyoya turned back to the girl. "Kitchen window."

"Kitchen window," She agreed, softly, wired up for a mad sprint to escape the apartment should danger be awaiting them.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, and edged the door open a crack.

Steel orbs blinked once.

Twice.

Three times.

With a relieved sigh, the tension left his body, and he swung it open completely.

More than a little bewildered, Mei peered around the boy. Peered was probably the wrong word to use here, considering it was Mei. Always one for big gestures, she leaned with her entire body and almost fell face-first against the doorframe as she did so, smiling when she caught sight of her friend. "Haruhi!"

"This is above my pay grade." Kyoya stuck his hands up and retreated back into the living room, clearly annoyed at the several years worth of stress that last minute or so caused him.

"You're not getting paid," Haruhi called after him, replacing him at the doorway without protest, and tossing the broom aside when her friend cast it a dubious look.

It apparently landed on several metallic objects and a stray cat, while also bitch-slapping Kyoya right across the back. He threw his hands up in indignation, nailing her in the head with a scrunched up bit of paper.

"Hi."

She could practically see Mei sweatdrop. "Hey."

"I told you to call ahead next time you were planning on dropping by."

"I need help." The blonde flashed her some perfectly crafted puppy dog eyes, raising a sheet of paper into view. Oh lord, Haruhi had never seen so many crosses in her life. Circled at the top of the test was a sloppy five. A five. "My retake is tomorrow." Sweet Jesus, she was fucked.

Haruhi aborted her attempt at cracking her knuckles (and ignored Mei's obvious judgement at the failure), ushering her inside.

"Senpai, how quickly can you teach half a term's worth of Algebra?"

The boy adjusted his glasses, evidently cautious as he looked between both girls. "That depends on the deadline, I suppose. I'd hazard a guess at two weeks or so, that is if she works on it every day. I do assume we're talking about Mei here?"

Haruhi's smile was strained. "How about a single day?"

That earned her a flick directly in the centre of her forehead. "Sleep talk when you're asleep, idiot. Teaching that kind of content in such a short amount of time is impossible."

"I know, I know." She assured, absently rubbing the throbbing area. "I'm not asking you for a miracle, but maybe if you help with what she's finding especially difficult, Mei could scrape enough marks to pass?"

Kyoya sighed.

This girl really would be the death of him.

"Fine. Give me that test, I'll compile a list of areas to focus on. In the meantime, Haruhi, you cover the basics of Algebra with Mei. Having a solid knowledge of the rules will surely benefit her, and make my job less difficult."

With that said, the three buckled down and got to work.

Or, more accurately tried to get to work. "Reading this is physically painful." He deadpanned, easily ducking under the textbook Mei lobbed at his head.

"Say that again, four eyes!"

Haruhi somehow cut between the two, but not before Mei had grabbed a handful of the boy's shirt and demanded him to keep his mouth shut, or she'd punch his lights out. Kyoya didn't seem perturbed by this treatment in the slightest. He merely continued to skim through the test, finger tapping against his thigh as if there was nothing wrong with being accosted and threatened with severe bodily harm.

Strangely, the weirdest part about that situation wasn't the ticking time bomb that was Mei's oncoming nuclear meltdown, but the restless drumming of Kyoya's fingers. Yes, plural. In a matter of seconds it had now evolved into more than the singular appendage.

A distraction appeared, in the form of Ranka sweeping into the room with a trilling laugh. "I'm off to work, play nicely now kids." He spotted Mei, eyes lighting up with glee. "Mei-chan! It's so lovely to see you. How's your father doing?"

Guilty, she dropped Kyoya, the boy not so much as batting an eyelid as he smothered out the wrinkles in his shirt. "He's doing well, Ranka-otosan. That dress looks really good on you, by the way."

He laughed, waving away the compliment. "The credit goes to you, it's such fine work. I can't wait to see what you make next. Now, give my love to your father." With that, he swooped down and pressed a kiss to Haruhi's head. "I'll be back at nine, okay, Haruhi? Take care of yourself."

"I'll leave your dinner in the fridge." She promised, trying not to laugh as her father affectionately ruffled Kyoya's hair, much to the boy's displeasure. "Be safe."

Kyoya echoed the parting, his free hand working on flattening his now thoroughly tousled hair.

And with that, her father swept out of the flat much like a whirlwind, closing the door behind him.

With a loud snap, Kyoya opened his notebook and began jotting things down. He must have sensed their gazes, for he glanced up quite boredly. "While I know watching me must be truly fascinating, I believe we have a lot of work to do and very limited time in which to do it."

That spurred them into action.

Soon Haruhi was dictating basic rules to the bleached-blonde, who nodded determinedly and tried to take it all in, while Kyoya set about compiling that list of his.

Once he was done, he simply put his elbows on the table and watched Haruhi- her little hand gestures, the way her head cocked to the side when she struggled to articulate her thoughts. She celebrated her victory of the short lecture with a large stretch, during which Kyoya made Mei jump by slapping a fat textbook in front of her and beginning by explaining how to rearrange more complicated algebraic equations.

Haruhi didn't quite know whether or not she should be concerned about the intensity that Kyoya was eyeing up her water bottle. He looked mere moments away from snatching it up and attempted to drown himself with it. It took no longer than twenty minutes, but they seemed to be the most painful ones of his entire life.

He left the blonde with some questions to work through, evidently hoping and praying beyond all reason that she understood. If he had to repeat himself, Haruhi was almost certain she'd have to guard the front door to prevent Kyoya from throwing himself down the stairs.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the scratching of Mei's pen against the paper.

Eventually, Haruhi turned to ask what topic they were to focus on next.

Only, she hesitated.

His eyes were closed, lashes dark against his skin.

Across the table Mei's head was cocked, staring at him curiously.

For once, he seemed at peace, dozing softly, chin propped up against his hand. Breathing steady, even. Utterly relaxed.

Wow. He'd actually managed to doze off will sitting up. Impressive.

Finding it somewhat unfortunate, as she would've preferred that he get more sleep while he could, Haruhi gently tapped his arm. He roused in confusion, eyes blinking drowsily, refocusing through the hazy mist of sleep. "Hmm?"

"You fell asleep, dumbass." Mei supplied, helpfully beaning him in the head with one of the many discarded balls of paper.

Scrubbing his hand over his eyes, the boy straightened up. "Right, yes. Where was I?"

She softened, nose scrunched up in what could have been concern. "What's up with you? You're like a zombie. Damn, if I ace this test, I'm making you take a nap."

He lazily waved her words away. "Daydreams aside, let's focus on those equations again, shall we?"

Haruhi, needless to say, wasn't having any of that bullshit. "Kyoya-senpai, why don't you go make some tea? Hopefully it'll wake you up a bit."

He opened his mouth to protest, but Haruhi merely stared him down.

Apparently realising that refusing wasn't an option, Kyoya climbed to his feet with a resigned sigh. "Make sure she does them." He warned, before disappearing through the door, smacking his head on the low frame as he went. Mei visibly face-palmed, and Haruhi felt herself unconsciously wince as he cursed.

What an absolute dork.

The instant he was gone, the blonde flicked her hair over her shoulder, turning sharp eyes on her friend. "Next time you're free, we're having a girl's day. Got it?"

Haruhi smothered a smile, knowing well enough that when Mei used that tone, she wasn't asking.

"I'll check my calendar."

By that, she meant, she'd check Kyoya's calendar.

Being attention-orientated to the point of bordering on somewhat obsessive, the little app on Kyoya's phone was absolutely plastered with notes. Schedules for upcoming days, appointments, little reminders for himself and the people he surrounded himself with.

(In that past, he'd actually texted her to remind her of a dentist appointment that she was already in the middle of).

So, with a little bit of persistence from Mei (Read: whining), she picked up his phone and typed in the pin, having the courtesy to at least warn him beforehand with a quick, "Senpai, I'm checking the calendar, kay?"

To preface this, Haruhi would likely to clearly state, for the record, that Kyoya usually didn't mind her touching his phone. In fact, he'd been the one to encourage the action, rather than bombarding him with pointless questions. (Which was rude, but so Kyoya-like that it was laughable)

To make it easier, he'd given her his pin, and she his, so if they so wished, they could both access each other's devices.

(Not that Kyoya had ever tried to use hers. Just looking at it seemed to physically pain him. Several times Haruhi was forced to stop his entirely unsubtle attempts to get her to upgrade it. By now, her opposition was mostly out of spite).

So, suddenly having the device plucked from her hands was somewhat of a shock. Mostly because Kyoya had been across the other side of the apartment 0.3 seconds ago, and was now, somehow, directly behind her. He gave a smile that seemed far too strained at the edges, and wandered back to the kitchen with a lame excuse of needing to text Tamaki.

Lame, because so far Kyoya had given approximately zero fucks about that self same thing. If he desperately needed to send a text while she was in possession of his phone, he had literally no shame in dictating it aloud for her to type out for him.

"Sure…" She replied, awkwardly, watching him go.

With a frown, she recapped everything that had happened within the last couple of days that would have led him to this. The list was short (mostly because she had to search back to the previous week to even find something remotely bad), and while it did exist, Kyoya wasn't a moody enough bitch to utilise it out of pure pettiness. (At least, with her he wasn't).

Still utterly bemused, she checked over Mei's answers, highlighting the incorrect parts. She'd improved since the first attempt, the hopeful part of her mind wondering whether she could actually manage to score a decent grade rather than scraping a pass at the rate she was going.

Kyoya returned with two mugs of tea just as she was remarking the questions, handing one over to her. The boy kept the other for himself, gently blowing on the liquid before taking a tentative sip.

Grey orbs raised over the rim, locking onto Mei's. The blonde girl pouted, clearly annoyed at being left out. "Do I not get one?"

"You hit me in the head. Make your own."

"Kyoya-senpai," Haruhi intoned, warningly. "Be nice."

He scoffed, but schooled his expression into one of false politeness. "There's still some in the teapot. Take a five minute break if you're so desperate."

She did, stomping off to go grab her own warm drink, and scowled at him the entirety of her oh, so generous break.

He grilled her intensely until Ranka arrived home, only pausing for necessary breaks, an important phone call (or so Kyoya claimed), and dinner, at which point Mei was no more than a puddle on the floor, practically oozing from all the knowledge she was struggling to retain. Kyoya offered to take her home, rather than let her brave the darkened streets.

Apparently they hadn't killed each other, as she received a text half an hour later from the boy stating that they both should be home safe.

The should was mildly concerning, but Haruhi was too tired to press, and so let it be.

Kyoya evidently decided to turn in early, as he didn't reply to her text asking if there had been any more updates on the Takeda situation. To be honest, she couldn't blame him, considering how close he looked to dropping dead earlier, despite his attempts to make her believe otherwise.

But there was that small smidge of irritation.

She hadn't heard anything since Monday. Hell, Kasanoda had gushed to her on Tuesday about how successful the game night was- his enthusiasm a blessing of a distraction. But that blissful ignorance could only last so long. Usually she would say that no news was good news, except she couldn't help but feel on edge being plunged into the unknown like this.

Still, it wasn't like Kyoya could do anything about it. He couldn't exactly provide her with information he himself didn't have access to.

The lack of progress was annoying, sure. But it wasn't the end of the world, no matter what Kyoya might think.

Haruhi wasn't afraid to admit that his self-destructive behaviour was worrying her. If he continued at this rate, he would become extremely sick- he'd barely even managed to stomach half a plate of food, when before he had been desperate for seconds.

As ridiculous as it sounded, she wondered whether an intervention might be needed.

See, the thing about Kyoya, she'd come to realise, was that he was terrified of any lapse from perfection.

He constantly worked himself half to death. Strived to remain at the top of his class. Pulled all the strings behind the scenes in the Host Club. He even catered to Tamaki's every whim, and willingly followed along with even the strangest of notions, because he considered Tamaki's happiness to be most important. The blond had suffered enough, what little Kyoya could do to relieve that, he would.

That was what friends were for, right?

And here, where the stakes were so much higher, where a single mistake could be disastrous, he struggled through sleepless nights and migraines and paranoia. Researching, and planning and protecting, on top of all else, was soon becoming too much for him.

Kyoya was splitting apart at the seams faster than he was able to sew himself back together.

Of course, in pure Kyoya-like stubbornness, he internalised it all.

He would smile, act as normal as he could, but the cracks in that mask of his were slowly growing larger. As each day passed, she watched in forced silence as more and more of it crumbled away. Somewhere in there was that five year old, young and earnest and desperate to prove himself, hidden away for all these years. He'd built himself these walls, this persona that was entirely fake but strong, brick by brick from the shadows.

What would be left, she wondered, when it all came crashing down?

That night, she fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming about runaway carriages, and roads that led to nowhere.


A/N: I had actually planned something entirely different for this chapter, but then Mei... just kinda... took over. Oops. She wasn't even supposed to arrive this early (She doesn't even go here!), but oh well, I have zero regrets

Mei and Kyoya are so relatable. It's a love hate relationship with them. (Omfg they're Sam and Bucky. I can literally see the car scene happening with these guys. And it works both ways like who would be Sam, who would be Bucky, FIND OUT ON THE NEXT DRAGON BALL Z)

Thank you for everyone who supported the last chapter, hearing your feedback/ seeing your favs and follows really makes my day

(The story is slow, I know, but the beans have oThEr lIfe PrOblEms that need attending to. And, also, plot. And, also, I'm an evil shit that likes dropping subtle hints for re-read bonus after le grand reveals that take literal years to be revealed. Don't worry, I hate me too. Here's a shirt to join the club)