A/N: I think I probably SHOULD make this drama/romance . . . I should, really. But . . . I'm not. Because I'm your lufferly Vacancy, and I'm a lazy teenager. It's what I do best: nothing at all. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club.
Chapter Eleven
Rain
Haruhi had always felt passionate about the rain.
Whether it instilled fear, wonder, loathing, discomfort—when the impregnated clouds let loose the torrents of rain held in for so long, her soul was pounded by the drops no matter where she was, and it when the rain let up, it was new, clean. When the thunder boomed and lightening crackled it's jagged-toothed smile, she jumped, slipped under the bed, breathed in the warm musty smell of sleep-sweat and the air freshener her father used.
She could almost forget the storm down here, convince herself the patter was a light spring rain, but one facet of these angry, roaring storms she could not escape. She gripped the crossbeams under the bed tightly when she was reminded of the thunder by it's angry, roaring voice, refusing to be forgotten, because what she felt was the worlds' last punishment for all her wrongdoings before it let her out, renewed, sinless.
Haruhi had never been pious, but she found religion in her fear.
-x-
Haku sat across from Tamaki, her fingers laced on her lap like a proper ladys' should, but her mouth was completely at odds with it, a slash of determination. Usually, she came to the Host Club to be wooed and pored over, but today, she was forced to set aside her longing for handsome attention long enough to achieve her goal.
"My Princess, we were separated in the midst of scintillating conversation when we last met . . . ah, was it last week?"
"Last Friday, yes. Were we?"
She sipped her tea, the file folder next to her on the comfortable seat pressing against her leg like a weight. But, always with a flair for the dramatic, Haku refused to give in and just whip out her treasure, preferring instead to manufacture a scene fit to star in a Hollywood Movie.
"We were, or so I think."
"Now, now, Princess, let's not go chasing the wind."
"I know she's not the wind."
"Just the weather, I believe," Haku said, turning her teacup handle very carefully to the right to align it with the gold stripe on the saucer. Tamaki stared at her for a moment, curious, before he got the joke and laughed carefully.
"You're more funny than they give you credit for, Haku."
"I'm given credit for very little, actually," she said.
"Oh, aren't you?"
"Not at all, Senpai."
Tamaki sat in silence for a moment, his face assessing hers. She faked disappointment.
"Why, Tamaki," she said, her voice cool. "I've yet to see you work any Host magic on me today. Should I be offended?"
"Oh, pardon me, my princess," he said looking out the windowpane. "My mind is far from easy."
"Pray tell," Haku said, lacing her fingers and resting her chin on them.
"I am missing a brother," Tamaki said, cupping his chin on his hand and meeting her eyes. "Who left my family last year and has yet to return."
Haku felt a lump in her throat.
"Oh," she said. The pictures weighed heavier on her lap. She didn't even know if she wanted to show them to Tamaki, now. Would it be cruel? "Well . . ."
Her throat felt dry. Suddenly throwing Haruhi's friendship in his face seemed like something needlessly rude and calculated, something she suddenly felt no desire to do.
"You know, Tamaki . . ."
"Yes, my Princess?"
". . . I really am sorry about all this talk of the weather. I promise not to trouble you with it any longer."
Tamaki's eyes were blank as he watched her face for a second.
". . . I understand," he said eventually. "Thank you."
His indigo eyes kept on digging deeper into hers, and they were bound to turn up something soon. She couldn't just sit there, lying to him, so she feigned remembrance of an appointment. Tamaki bid her a graceful goodbye, albeit a bemused one, and she stood up, almost jogging to the door in her haste to be away. She didn't cradle the manila folder in her hands as she left, something she didn't realize until later.
"Hello . . ." Tamaki said, plucking up the file folder and flipping it open. "Princess left something . . ."
His stomach dropped to his knees.
Haruhi and Haku, making faces at the camera, sticking their tongues out as Haruhi cradled a bowl full of batter, her hair caught up in a handkerchief, standing next to Renge's personality double. There was a little smear of chocolate on her pert little nose, one of her eyes squeezed half-shut in a mockery of a wink, caught by a camera flash.
A thick pillar of smoke rose from a pot of simmering chocolate behind them.
-x-
Clink, clink, swish.
"Mori should be back soon, Haku will be over after school, I'd bet . . ."
Clink, clink, swish.
"And Arai is coming over, too . . . won't he be surprised to see the two of them . . ."
Clink, clink, swish.
"And . . . he sent over . . . that basket . . ."
Clink, clink, swish.
"So I'll reuse that carousel and set out some of those sweets."
Clack, clack, clack.
Haruhi surveyed the tea tray, the three cups set out on the delicate china that Mori had insisted upon buying for her when he dropped a stack of mismatched teacups and glasses. She turned around, facing the wicker basket he had brought. The cellophane reflected the harsh florescent light in the kitchen, making her squint, obscuring the elaborate gift.
His card lay on the table where she had read it for the first time, a good week ago ago.
Sorry for leaving. I'll come back tomorrow, have business to attend to. Don't answer door if I'm not welcome.
For some reason, she hadn't thrown it away.
Haku had been over every day since, and once Mori had returned, bearing a suitcase and a laptop with which to connect to his various business attachments, and, of course, the basket of sweets ("Mitsukuni insisted" was his only explanation) which now sat on her table, and the door was left wide open, and he was very welcome. The tea trio, as Haku had taken to jokingly calling them, had been reinstated, and any tenseness in the room was dispelled after the first awkward day, leaving a sense of harmony.
Haruhi picked up her teacup and sipped it distractedly. He had left that morning, promising to be home by teatime, which made her slightly nervous, but she brushed the feeling away. She had found a strange pleasure in the sound effects formed by setting down saucers and teacups, and pouring out the tea. Clink, clink, swish. It was the preparation of the tea that she found soothing, not the hot liquid itself.
She glanced at the clock. Haku would be knocking smartly on her door in a moment, panting and dressed in her Ouran uniform from running from her car in her haste to be the first one there. Mori would arrive, soon, as well; and Arai had promised her that he would be right over after he checked in with his ailing grandmother at the hospital to make sure she was contented. Her heart softened at the thought. He was so selfless. Just like Tamaki, just like—
Knock, knock.
"Come in, Haku," she said loudly, and picked up the tray. She sauntered into the living room, setting down the tray. "I'm finally using those sweets in the basket. I know you've been longing for them . . ." she chatted away with Haku, who was surely in the room by now. Only there was a problem.
There was no dark-haired girl silhouetted in the afternoon sunlight, obscured slightly by cottony clouds.
Haruhi frowned.
"Haku, I said you could come in!" she called, wiping her hands on her long shorts absently as she set out the plates.
"Who's Haku?"
Haruhi dropped a plate.
The voice had been muffled by a door and wall, and the months that had passed between them, but she recognized it easily. She knew what facial expression he would wear as he glanced back at his mirror image, and she was struck by the urge to hide underneath her bed like a kid, like she did during storms. Instead, she reached around for a broom, and started sweeping up the shards of plate with careful, long strokes.
"Haruhi?"
Haruhi dropped the broom.
"Takashi?"
"Oh, she responds to you?"
"Haruhi, I'm going to unlock the door."
Haruhi dropped to a sitting position on the floor, feeling nauseated. Should've made the connection between the twins and Mori's promise to return. Shouldn't have given him a goddamn key.
The lock clicked, and the door swung open.
Six eager faces, poring down upon her.
"Haruhi . . ." His voice came first, soft and familiar. "Haruhi, Haruhi . . ."
He smelled of vanilla and was warm, embracing her.
"Tamaki . . ." Her words were a whisper, and maybe a prelude to tears or screams or anger, but he couldn't know, because then she just shut her eyes and breathed in his sweet scent of vanilla and rain.
"Haruhi . . ." he said again, burying his face in her chocolate brown hair.
"Get off of me, Senpai," Haruhi said, and though her words were hard, her tone was gentle. Tamaki, unreasonably surprised, pulled back. Haruhi stood, trying to get over the fact that Hikaru and Kaoru were staring at her hungrily, and Kyoya with something like disgust. She looked Mori straight in the eye, and said, her tone cold,
"You have ruined everything for me."
She turned and stalked into her bedroom just as thunder crackled overhead.
-x-
BOOM.
"Mori, you don't understand, I have to be in there with her!" Tamaki said desperately, trying to slip past the gentle giant, into the room beyond. Hikaru stood behind him, nodding vehemently.
"Please, Mori, you don't understand. We need to be in there. She needs us."
Crackle, BOOM.
"I know why you think you need to be in there," Mori said, his voice nowhere near as deep as the thunders grumble, though it was something of an accurate comparison. "But it will not help her to have you in there now."
"It will, it will!" Tamaki said, shaking his head. "She forgave me when I approached her . . . like this . . . before."
"It will not work like that, Suou," Mori said somberly. "She has made a decision regarding you. I should have respected that. But I did not, and she will not listen even to me."
Tamaki and Hikaru exchanged glances. Just how well had Mori and Haruhi been getting along in their absence—or rather, hers?
"No, Mori, I just—won't you let me try?"
He didn't say anything, his slow, deliberate gaze trained on his face. "Are you even looking to comfort her?"
"What?" Tamaki asked, frowning.
"Or are you just looking for forgiveness, to get a way in through her fears?"
Tamaki stared at him for a second, slack jawed.
"Of course not," he said after a second, but he withdrew.
"Where is Ranka, anyway?" Kaoru asked from his place beside his brother, bewildered but defiant.
"Ryoji has, unfortunately . . . gone missing. He left."
"Is that why you had a key?" Tamaki said, having recovered from the blow Mori had dealt, the truth dawning on him. "You're looking after her?"
He did not reply, and Tamaki drew all the answers he needed from that.
The door slammed open, and a soaked Haku barreled inside, tugging a bewildered, short-haired boy along with her. The entire Host Club turned and stared at them, largely because Haku was wearing a long, fancy dress, and Arai his school uniform.
"Oh! Tamaki . . . what are you doing here?"
Her surprise colored her face.
"Losing Haruhi again," he said, watching the silhouettes behind the paper door as lightening grinned and thunder boomed.
And Mori closed his eyes, and Mori grimaced.
-x-
Two Days Previously
The Host Club had been ended early, much to the irritation of the clients, who made their way out of the Third Music Room haughtily as cats. None of the Hosts noticed, or cared, they were all crawling over Tamaki, begging to know what he would not share.
"What is it, Tono?" Hikaru and Kaoru asked as one, sure that they would get a reply. Generally, they were the most esteemed Hosts in Tamaki's mind, because they had been there first, along with Kyoya, who fell just below as far as bringing in clientèle.
"It's . . ." Tamaki held the folder gingerly, like it was a bomb. "Here." He shoved the folder at Kaoru. "You open it."
"All right," he said, scrutinizing Tamaki suspiciously before flipping it open. He sucked in his breath, and his twin, who had been looking over his shoulder, did the same.
"Who is that?" One of the Junior Hosts, as they had been dubbed, popped up, peering at Haruhi."She's pretty."
"She's beautiful," Hikaru said, not sure of what to make of the pictures.
Haruhi, sitting cross-legged at a short table.
Haruhi and Haku, playing Patty-cake, Haruhi's face split in laughter.
Haruhi and Mori, sitting side by side in front of her small television.
Mori, eating a sweet with almost laughable seriousness at Haruhi's table.
Haruhi, sitting on a swing, her feet just barely brushing the ground, wearing a skirt and blouse school uniform.
Haruhi, asleep on the couch at her house, Mori letting a blanket flutter down around her sleeping shoulders.
Sorry this update took so long—pretty short, too! But like I said, I'm pretty bust lately. / Sorry!
Vacancy