a/n: It's some wonderful, wonderful Kyou-Haru this chappie! (is in a good mood). Hopefully, this should balance out all the serious-ness of the last chapter. Although… it's quite serious as well. The first part, I feel drags. :(But it's Kyou-Haru! A lot of reflection, because a lot of Haruhi's feelings had to be accounted for. It was unexpectedly difficult, though I shouldn't have been so surprised. O.o

Enjoy and leave a review:D


"Have some respect for your father!"

Ranka, not yet changed out of his work clothes, held his hands to his hips and gave a scathing (or so he hoped) look at his daughter.

Haruhi just blinked, but then did the strangest thing:

Averted her eyes.

In all of her fifteen years, Ryoji rarely saw his daughter do that. She was honest and straightforward; always was able to look him in the eye.

So what perplexed him was, for the first time, he didn't know why. Why she was deliberately hiding something from him.

And, equally important, what she was hiding from him.

"Nothing. What would you like for dinner tonight?"

"Don't try to weasel out of answering your father, young lady! I demand an answer!"

He stood like that, with his hands on his hips, for a good long moment. Haruhi just blinked up at him again and turned to the stove.

"Hm."

It clicked.

Kyouya.

It had something to do with that lovely, wealthy, handsome young man.

"Haruhi," he said aloud, tentatively, "does this have something to do with that lovely, wealthy, handsome young man?"

"Eh? D-Dad, it's not…"

It was a brief victory. Ryoji beamed at his daughter's stutter. Of course he had it right. He was always right.

"It has nothing to do with Tamaki," Haruhi finally assured him eagerly, her poise returning.

Her poise might have been returning, but Ryoji lost all grip on his.

"What?" It was a near-scream, shrill and saturated with disbelief. "WHAAAT?"

Haruhi flinched. "Oh. I should've known you would never call Tamaki 'lovely' and et cetera, but the way you said it…"

"Of course I would say it that way! If I thought that my daughter was… was… in…" love. He shook his head rapidly, and began a new, also unpleasant chain of thought.

"You mean to tell me that instead of carrying through with that lovely, wealthy, handsome young man that… that… "

Haruhi sighed. Now things were just getting irritating.

"Please calm down. I never said any such thing. Tamaki and I are going out to breakfast tomorrow for 'father and daughter bonding time'," she explained, putting air quotes around "father and daughter". It was the phrasing Tamaki had used. "And I new you'd overreact."

A dark look came over Ranka's face as he mumbled something.

She blinked, suddenly remembering. "Although…"

She looked up at her father, then at her foot. For the second she'd seen his face, it had glimmered with curiosity and hope.

"Although… I never planned to follow through with the arranged marriage anyway."

Yes, the time had come. Haruhi could lie to her father no longer.

"Nooooo!!"

"Calm. Down."

Ryoji took one final, deep breathe. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Daddy lost control. But," he gave her a set of puppy eyes to rival her 'other' father's, "I just…" he shook his head and trailed off, all traces of playfulness gone.

"Just what?"

"I should've never agreed to this."

Haruhi crossed her arms uncomfortably.

"When you came home from Kyouya's – that first time, after I told you the news - you seemed irritated still, but you were more like yourself than when you'd left. I thought it was some kind of sign, that you'd come to terms and decided that you'd do it. Probably not because you loved him. I'm not a complete idiot. I should've known. It's no surprise to me now that you're terminating it. At the time… I thought it was probably because the Ootoris had money; could make your dream to be a lawyer come true."

Haruhi looked up at him.

"Haruhi," he asked gently, "when you said that about your mother…" he trailed off again.

"Go on," she said, quietly.

"When you said that about your mother – wanting to be like she and I were - I remembered why you wanted to be a lawyer in the first place."

Haruhi gave a little smile. "She was the best lawyer in the world."

"You always so much wanted to be like her. And Kotoko would never have wanted an arranged marriage."

Haruhi did not reply.

"If your heart tells you to be with that foreign bug, then, well… I'll stop calling him a foreign bug."

Her father noticed that here she turned pink – just the lightest shade.

"Dad. I don't have… He doesn't even…"

She stopped.

She thought.

She thought hard

"I don't… think I have any feelings for Tamaki-senpai," she finished, after a few seconds.

Her father sniffed disapprovingly. "I don't believe that."

"Well, I have to leave. I have to go pick something quick up to eat."

"No! What about the marriage? I mean…" his voice lowered, "I only mean… doesn't Kyouya weigh on your mind at all? I just want you to be able to talk to me about this." She thought she saw his eyes go misty.

She felt the blush creep up her neck again, more vindictive this time. "That's not true. He's not bothering me at all," she said, the last part coming out a bit too quickly and harshly.

Don't think about Kyouya.

Don't think about that time you almost…. You know.

Most of all, don't think about the club.

And Haruhi realized, with a start, that there was a lot she didn't think about. Whenever something was unpleasant, she didn't want to face it. She circumvented it. It had been the same with her mother's death – she carried on by not lingering.

But perhaps, when her problems involved the living, that was not the solution.

Her father watched this with sudden fascination. "Do you… do you like him?" His eyes misted up. "Eh, my baby! One way or another you're going to lea-"

"Kyouya-senpai isn't exactly the person you think he is, Dad," she said, a tad bitter. And wanting her father to stop his crying. It was so irritating. So irritating, and… and she didn't like it. At all. She wanted him to stop thinking that Kyouya was some kind of god, because he wasn't.

If he was the kind of person her father thought he was, why hadn't Kyouya come to her aid at the club?

Why had it been Kaoru, instead, who'd helped her?

Not that she didn't appreciate it, but did Kyouya have something up his ass that prevented him from helping her out when she really needed it? And, furthermore, when her problem involved him?

Why couldn't Kyouya fix his mess?

Another thought:

Was she taking this too seriously?

She sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I'll be back in a couple hours."

And she shut the door behind her, wondering if the answer might be that she was just scared.


Tamaki blabbered on and on, sometimes taking her hand to pull her along outside the bustling row of commoners shops.

"Oooh! Haruhi! Chinese food! Let's eat!" And, once again, he took her hand and he pulled her into the resturaunt. Bells jingled as they entered.

"For breakfast, senpai?"

"... oh." He looked befuddled for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Well. Who are you to deny Chinese food the benefit of the doubt? It could make for a fine breakfast!"

"I doubt it."

"Mmmm, tasty!" he said, glancing at a menu that hung on the wall. He said it without conviction.

"… Maybe we should try a nice American-style pancake house?" Haruhi suggested weakly.

She heard the noisy rustle of a newspaper page behind her, and turned. At first, she didn't recognize him (the paper obscured his face), just thought it odd that there should be someone else here at this time of morning.

She should've recognized those pale, spidery hands.

Still, she didn't know who he was until he put the paper down to drink out of an appropriately king-sized travel cup of coffee.

Probably hyper-caffeinated to counter his AB tendencies.

"K-Kyouya!" she sputtered, forgetting to tack on the senpai. Tamaki didn't seem very bothered by it.

"Kyouya!"

In fact, he actually seemed happy. Although a bit confused.

"What brings you here?"

Haruhi just looked on, waiting for the answer to Tamaki's question.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Tamaki. Or Haruhi. I'd like to talk to either of you, but not both of you. At the same time, that is."

"Who brings you here?" Haruhi butted in suspiciously, as if she dreaded hearing the answer.

"Your father kindly informed me that Tamaki was taking you out to breakfast." He took a sip of coffee. "And Tamaki, your father was kind enough to tell me your whereabouts. Knowing that you were going amongst commoners, he set up a few bodyguards to follow you." And he nodded near the window. Haruhi and Tamaki turned quickly, but didn't see a thing.

"Well," Tamaki informed him, a bit haughtily, "Haruhi and I are doing special father daughter bonding time!"

Kyouya raised an eyebrow, and Haruhi noticed something like pained pity flick through his face. She wondered…

"But," Tamaki added, brightening considerably, "You're welcome to join us!"

Kyouya actually chuckled.

Haruhi inwardly growned, and she had to bite her lip to keep from walking out then and there.

For whatever reason, she did not feel like speaking to him.

Although the feeling was intensified now, it had been lurking, looming, ever since they almost… you know.

Tamaki plopped down, and Haruhi more carefully slid into her seat.

"So, mon ami, ma fille, what would you like to order ?"

"I'm good with my coffee, thank you."

Haruhi looked over the menu, and inadvertently felt herself drooling. Chinese food for breakfast was certainly an odd choice, but food was food, and for a commoner restaurant, the food was looking especially tempting. She saw the numbers behind the dishes' names and her eyes bugged out. For a commoner restaurant, this was looking pretty pricy.

She cast a glance over at Kyouya. He was examining the menu with mild, pleasant interest on his face. She leaned to her left.

"Tamaki?" she whispered, so soft it was nearly a breath.

"Yes?" he whispered back, much louder. Kyouya looked up. She gritted her teeth. Much as she hated it, she would have to ask the rich bastard for money. But as long as that rich bastard's name wasn't Kyouya, she could live it down.

"Is… um, you're paying right? Kyouya won't be, you know, using money from my pencils or anything to-"

"I can hear you," Kyouya responded in a normal tone.

"Of course! I would never make a lady pay! That wouldn't be gentleman-like at all." He blinked at Kyouya. "And I guess I can treat you, too, Kyouya. If you've changed your mind and feel like eating."

"No need," he said pleasantly, "I can use money from Haruhi's pencils to easily afford this."

He smiled at her. She wasn't sure if he was joking or being sadistic or both, so she just glared.

Strangely, Kyouya displayed a puzzled frown and looked back down at his menu.

"Hm… I must find the cook!" Tamaki said, suddenly standing with a purpose. "I want him to tell us which dishes are best. I've never been here before, and as every Frenchman knows, food is of a great priority." He smiled brightly at the two and walked over to the counter. It was a large restaurant, Haruhi realized. And totally empty but for them, the only people insane enough to order breakfast here. Of course, the owners could probably afford the large building, what with all they –

She looked down.

His long, almost spider-like fingers, had rested over her hand.

She sucked in a breath.

It was strange, how much larger his hands were than hers. She had short, not-quite-stubby fingers, but her hands were small. Despite their size, his were thin and probably very nimble.

"Haruhi," he began, his voice low, "why are you angry?"

She blinked.

"Well, I don't know." A tinge of sarcasm.

His eyes continued to search hers.

"Maybe… maybe because we're all falling apart."

She was surprised. Without her even thinking, the answer to all her questions had slipped from her own lips.

She saw him frown. She saw the pain that he couldn't conceal behind his lenses. He knew they by 'we', she did not mean herself and him alone.

"I promise you, Haruhi. We won't. It's strange, you know it as well as I do. It's painful. But we're only getting used to… " here he quickly pushed his glasses up with his free hand, "to our feelings."

Pause.

"What?"

He shook his head just slightly, a sign of resignation.

"Tamaki loves you, you know."

She looked down at her menu.

"I know." She realized that she had known, for a while. For so long, it'd just become rooted into her, but she never bothered to ponder it. So much that it didn't take Kyouya's blunt words to make her see.

"Do you love him?" There's something in his voice that asked her politely to be serious about this. To truly think about it. This was not the same situation as with her father that morning. Kyouya wanted an answer.

For once she allowed every speck of evidence to be inspected and presented. She didn't block out some things, convince herself of the meaning behind others.

He had jumped into the water when she'd been pushed off the cliff, risking his own safety for hers. He was a fool, she'd told herself at the time. That was still true, but he was also a very brave, kind, loving fool.

He had comforted her that night, when the fear had cornered her in a wardrobe. He was doing it because he had some sick fetish, she had convinced herself at the time (this was most certainly not true, she realized now, she had been too hasty for an excuse… as had the twins… as they all had). He had allowed her to wrap her arms around him and hold him; he had held her and been kind to her.

There were so many other incidents.

He was always with her, protecting her, managing to make her laugh.

And he was a strong person. She admired that. "I'm myself before I'm a Suoh," he had once said.

The evidence was laid out. She considered for a moment before making her ruling.

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't. No.

It wasn't possible that she loved him, was it? He had always just been there. A lonely prince, a comedic character in his own drama, a fool, a… a friend. A brother, a father, a puppy

A friend.

That was all he was to her. A friend, that she loved. So much she thought it was love.

But now she knew it wasn't. She didn't know why, but it was so apparent, now. She had been scared it was love; too scared to look any further in the matter. By not looking, she obviously could no have seen.

Or had something changed?

She looked at Kyouya and felt something somewhere flip.

Maybe just her entire world.

Of course not, she assured herself, louder than her instincts that screamed otherwise.

"No."

He just nodded.

"Here's a more difficult one."

He took a breath, which even Haruhi recognized as less-than-stable.

"Do you feel anything for me? Anything at all?"

Her mouth dropped to the floor. Was this really Kyouya? Asking her this question?

Perhaps, that day, that time… you know, he really had been leaning….

In a strangely smooth, quick action, he took his hand from hers at the ring of Tamaki's voice.

"Kyouya! Haruhi! Peking duck, he said, peking duck. He somehow didn't seem eager to talk. Wait! No! I just realized! He only told me the name of one dish, and we should all get different dishes so we can-"

"I'll be leaving now," Kyouya announced, rising from his chair.

"What? Surely not so soon, Kyou-"

But he suddenly found himself dumb, as Kyouya leaned down to whisper – deathly quiet - into Haruhi's ear.

"I - I don't need an answer, if you don't want to give me one. But to let you know, I cancelled the engagement."

She felt herself go light, and her breathe caught in her chest.

Had he really managed to do it? So soon? So suddenly?

Perhaps Kyouya was a god after all.

"Kyouya's been acting a little bit strange lately," he said uneasily. He glanced at Haruhi.

I think you should know that I care very deeply about Haruhi.

The way he whispered into her ear…

The way Haruhi, now, was touching her fingers to her lips in shock…

"He said he cancelled the engagement," she said, awed.

Tamaki was actually lost for words.