A/N: Happy Memorial Day, Everybody! This is the longest chapter yet...I hope you enjoy! Thanks once again to my absolutely amazing reviewers/readers. You guys have been so supportive, and so wonderful with your praise and attention. I adore each and every one of you!
I do not own Ouran High School Host Club; it belongs to Bisco Hatori.
This chapter is dedicated to every soldier, past and present, and from any nation, that ever fought for his or her country.
All the King's Horses, All the King's Men
Hikaru ran. He didn't really have a destination in mind, but he couldn't stop his feet from pumping. He'd never been very good at dealing with strong emotions, and the ones currently swirling inside his gut were as powerful as a nuclear blast. He had to run them out, run them down, before the strength of that blast tore him to pieces.
She'd looked so sweet, and so startled. Her cheeks had flushed, and her brown eyes had gone wide, and her lips had parted into a soft moue of surprise.
Gritting his teeth, Hikaru ran faster, plowing through a crowd of teenage girls in middle school uniforms. They let out squawks of indignation, squawks that smoothed out to inexperienced purrs once they got a good look at his retreating form.
He'd known, of course. Everyone had. That big blonde idiot may have been oblivious to his own feelings, but to everyone else, what was really written across his heart was as clear as day. But that hadn't stopped Hikaru from hoping that the boss would remain in the dark, preferably forever.
Lungs tearing, Hikaru shoved aside a middle-aged man who exited a coffee shop and stepped right into his path of flight. The man let out a startled yelp, and as he dashed away, Hikaru just saw the man's beverage fall to the ground and explode.
"Hey!" the man shouted at Hikaru's retreating back.
It's not that Hikaru wanted to lock her away, exactly. Just put her in a box where no one else could touch her. That was different, right?
Head spinning, lungs straining, Hikaru's body finally forced him to a stop. Pressing his palm against his sweaty forehead, he surveyed his surroundings with mild surprise. Somehow, he'd ended up in a park, of sorts. Children screamed and squealed as they scaled a giant jungle gym. Tolerant mothers sat on benches, occasionally barking out orders. Behind the swing set, which had zero vacancies, the pit of sand and woodchips that the playthings were placed on stopped. A giant field opened occupied the open space, a huge sprawl of green that was dented in the middle by two downward slopes. Because he could just barely make out the sound of running water, Hikaru hypothesized that a river rested at the bottom of those hills. Hoping for a little privacy, Hikaru headed in that direction, threading through the various kite-flyers and picnic-eaters scattered throughout the field.
The mossy banks of the river were nearly empty. There was a little boy fishing with his father, but they were far enough down that it hardly mattered. Digging around in his pocket, Hikaru pulled out his music player. The sounds of the outside world disappeared as soon as he plugged his headphones in, and as long as he turned his back on the father-son duo, he could pretend he was alone here.
Hikaru tucked his hands in his pockets, and kicked a stray stone into the water. He wasn't a fan of change, even when it was for his own benefit. He'd die before admitting it, but the loss of contact with the Host Club had cut him deeply. Outside of Kaoru, they were the only real friends he'd ever had. They were his testimony, his proof that he was indeed capable of letting other people in, that he and Kaoru weren't destined to spend their lives alone. Hikaru wasn't stupid. He wanted that friendship, that sense of family, something he'd never seen outside of his brother, to go on forever. But in order for that to happen, a sort of innocence had to stay within the group; entanglements of a more adult nature had to be avoided. He'd never spoken of his softer intentions towards the female member, and he'd hoped for so long that the others would follow his lead. Sometimes he wondered if the pain of forcing his feelings down wasn't killing him by inches.
But wasn't it better to have her forever, even only as friend, than to lose her completely to someone else's arms?
Hikaru scrubbed a sullen and ultimately weary hand over his face.
A soft rap on his shoulder had him rolling his eyes. He assumed it was one of the many children running around the park, perhaps the one from just up the stream. But when he turned around, he found himself staring into a familiar and unexpected face instead. As Hikaru tensed in angry surprise, Tamaki tapped his own ear, reminding Hikaru that his headphones were still blocking out the sounds of the outside world.
"How did you find me?" he demanded, ripping the buds out of his ears.
Tamaki folded his arms.
"You left quite the trail of disgruntled people on the sidewalk," he replied, his voice ripe with easy humor. "You left a group of middle school girls giggling, and there's a man a little ways back who I imagine is still wiping up coffee and cursing your name."
Hikaru gave a bad-tempered shrug.
"Well, you found me. That's great. So now, why don't you go ahead and lose me again?"
Tamaki folded his arms. The small smile bowing his lips was soft, and small. His purple eyes were strangely gentle, and Hikaru gritted his teeth as he prepared himself for the Host Club King's apologies, and rambling explanations.
"You moron."
Shock gave Hikaru enough time to blink twice before his brain comprehended Tamaki's words. The blonde delivered the insult with such warm and weary affection, Hikaru had a hard time connecting the words to the tone. Once he linked them together, though, the anger he'd worked so hard to suppress began to beat a violent tattoo under his skin.
"Are you spoiling for a fight, Boss?" he snapped, golden eyes flashing. "Because, at the moment, I won't take much convincing."
Tamaki tilted his head.
"I didn't come here to fight you, Hikaru," he said.
"Then why did you follow me?" the redhead exploded.
"I was worried."
With something that could have been a laugh, if it lost its semi-hysterical edge, Hikaru reached up to tug at his hair.
"You can not be that oblivious," he said, almost to himself. "It is physically impossible for your brain to be that bent. How could you not understand that you are the last person I want to see right now?"
"I know that. I followed you here because I'm the last person you want to see."
Shock caused Hikaru to release his hair. He looked up into Tamaki's face, his confusion growing as he realized that that gentle smile still curved the blonde's lips.
"You know, I'm really not as oblivious as all of you might think," Tamaki added breezily. "I see a lot more than I let on."
Hikaru shook his head.
"But all through high school, you...,"
Tamaki's smile widened, just a little, and those violet eyes flashed with momentary humor.
"Really, Hikaru. The Host Club has been together for years now. Out of all of us, who do you think most understands the importance of role-playing?"
Blinking. It seemed to be all Hikaru was capable of contributing to this conversation.
"I created character types for all of you," Tamaki continued. "Why would I leave myself out?"
This was not the conversation Hikaru had imagined he would be having right now. Although he did find himself a little fascinated, in spite of his anger, and his spinning head. Had Tamaki really been this shrewd all along?
"So, it was all an act?" he breathed. "Your 'Princely' persona?"
Now Tamaki's brow furrowed. His smile creased into a small scowl, and he actually appeared…offended.
"Certainly not!" he said. "Remember that I created the Host Club character types by playing up the personality traits of its members. I simply took my God-given chivalry and charm, and broadened them a little."
And with that dramatic exclamation, Hikaru suddenly found himself back in a more familiar territory.
"You followed me all the way out here to discuss your system of characterization?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
Tamaki shook his head.
"I followed you because I am your King, and as such, I am responsible for you, and your feelings."
Hikaru resisted, just barely, the urge to roll his eyes.
"I think you're taking that metaphor a little too far, Tamaki-sempai."
"I'm not," Tamaki countered kindly. "I may be oblivious to some things; that is one of my personality traits that I worked into my character type, after all. But I wasn't kidding before when I said that I see more than I let on. The members of the Host Club are my responsibility; your feelings are of great importance to me." That smile was back, that gentle curve. "I see you, Hikaru. I've been watching for years now."
Hikaru shrugged, despite the blush he could feel burning the back of his neck.
"So you know about my feelings," he said, struggling for nonchalant and failing miserably. "So what? I'm pretty sure that everyone does."
"I know more than that," Tamaki said. "I see your reasons, as well. I think that your greatest fear, other than losing your brother, of course, is the breaking of this family. And that fear paralyzes you from showing your true feelings; you fear that any action on your part will shatter this bond that we've formed."
If Hikaru's head hadn't started spinning before, it sure as hell was in orbit now. It was such a simple, straightforward, accurate diagnosis of his most secret feelings. His flush had spread from his neck to his face, and he took an absent moment to curse his redhead complexion.
"You…can't know all of that," he spluttered, for a lack of anything better to say.
Tamaki just continued to stand, and continued to smile. It brought Hikaru's anger back like a silent scream.
"Fine," he snapped. "So you see me. That means that you were perfectly aware of my feelings when you blurted out your little love confession." Hikaru sneered, if only to counterbalance Tamaki's gentle smile. "Seems awfully selfish of a king who claims to be all about the feelings of his subjects."
Tamaki shook his head.
"You're angry right now, Hikaru, so I understand that you need to say such things. But you know me better."
There was zero recrimination in Tamaki's voice, and for whatever reason, it inspired more shame in Hikaru than an actual reprimand would have.
"I am sorry, for what it's worth. There was a time, not too long ago, that I completely agreed with your strategy of staying silent to stay together. I feared the breaking of our family as much as you did." Tamaki gave a quiet chuckle. "I'm sure you remember some of my more desperate attempts at maintaining my denial."
Images of Tamaki addressing each group member by a family title danced before Hikaru's eyes.
"I went through periods of conflicting emotions," the blonde continued. "Some days, the chivalrous knight in me insisted that I fight for my love. Other days, reminders of my kingly responsibilities would leave me determined to bow out of the running."
"You are not my king," Hikaru snapped.
Tamaki shrugged.
"Okay," he said easily. "But I'll always care for you, and feel the need to watch over you."
Hikaru wasn't sure if he should actually throw a punch, or sit on the grass and laugh like a loon.
"You would give up?" he asked instead.
"In a heartbeat, if I thought that that would make everyone happy," Tamaki said simply. "But I know you better than that, Hikaru. You're too intelligent for your own good. If I were to surrender, how long would it take you to start worrying that she picked you simply because she didn't have the option of me?"'
"Arrogant jackass," Hikaru snapped, although the heat in his voice was fading with every word out of Tamaki's mouth. The blonde really did know him, didn't he? "You make it sound like you're sure she's going to choose you. What if she chooses me?"
Tamaki shrugged, and those violet eyes stayed serene.
"Then two of my dearest friends will have found love. How could I be anything but glad?"
For a moment, Hikaru could only stare. And then, laughter that he was helpless to control bubbled in his belly and rolled out of his mouth.
"Damn it," he said, his voice hitched with laughter and some sort of exasperated disgust. "Damn it, damn it, damn it. That's exactly why she's going to pick you, you know. You're so ridiculously loyal. And all you care about is everyone else." Golden eyes flashed, fixed on Tamaki's face. "You make it impossible for…anyone…to hate you. Boss."
Tamaki's smile warmed instinctively, even as his eyes widened.
"Wait, you think…,"
"I've got eyes, don't I?" Hikaru said. "All those years you spent watching me, watching all of us, I was watching her. And all she did was look at you." Hikaru scrubbed his hands over his face again. "God, we're just a bunch of idiots, aren't we?"
"Hikaru."
"Look, it hurts, all right?" he snapped. "But it's fine. I'll get over it. As…as long as she's happy, you know?"
"I don't know that you should give up just yet," Tamaki said softly. "Those qualities that you say further my chances of winning? You have them as well. In spades."
A smile bowed Hikaru's lips. It was small and shaky, and hardly there at all, but it was genuine.
"My greatest fear, huh?" he said softly. "That something would break us. Break our family."
Tamaki reached out a hand and rested it gently on the redhead's shoulder.
"Ridiculous, isn't it?" he said. "I doubt there's anything that can. What we have isn't so fragile."
He didn't leave his hand there for long, because while the smiles may have been genuine, the emotions they'd just rocked through were still very raw.
Hikaru was just opening his mouth to suggest that they head back, when Tamaki's phone went off. The blonde fished it out of his pocket, and then grinned at the name that it displayed.
"Kyoya!" he cried into the receiver, with great joy. "Were you worried about me? I bet you were! Never fear, for we have fixed…"
Tamaki's voice dripped off, like water slowly leaking from two cupped hands. Hikaru watched with confusion as those violet eyes hardened, and that soft smile flattened into a grim line.
"Where?" he asked, and all playfulness had disappeared from his voice. "All right. We'll be there shortly."
He snapped the phone shut.
"We have to go," he said to the bewildered redhead.
"Why?" Hikaru asked. "What's wrong?"
Tamaki's eyes flashed.
"It's Haruhi."
…...
"Are you sure they're okay?" Haruhi asked, for approximately the nineteenth time. "They're not fighting?"
Kyoya tapped the cell phone resting in his pocket. Because Haruhi currently had a doctor poking at her stomach, she had to crane her neck to see him.
"Tamaki said that everything was fine," he said. "And he sounded like the overly enthusiastic idiot he always is, so I'm inclined to believe him."
"Hello?" the doctor said dryly, as she prodded Haruhi's shirt-covered stomach with gentle fingers. "Remember me? Could we possibly focus on the hole in your stomach for just a moment?"
Straightening up, the doctor shot Kyoya an exasperated look.
"Remind me again why I'm not kicking any of you out?" she asked.
Kyoya smiled, and his glasses flashed as he nudged them up his nose.
"Because of our last names. Specifically mine."
And because, as soon as Haruhi had entered the doctor's office, her eyes had gone wide and glassy with fear. Her skin had gone as white as the hospital walls, and there was still blood on her lip for where she'd bitten it to nervous ribbons.
The boys had taken one look at her, and flat out refused to leave the room. So Haruhi's exam was conducted with Kyoya leaning against the doorframe, Kaoru hovering anxiously by the blood pressure machine, Hunni and Mori perched on the little sofa, and Ranka holding tight to his daughter's hand.
And for once, Haruhi hadn't said a word.
"It's definitely an ulcer, then?" Ranka asked, his face white with worry.
The doctor nodded.
"Normally, I'd run an Endoscopy to make sure."
Haruhi couldn't quite bite back the small hiss of fear, and Ranka gave her hand a calming pat.
"But," the doctor continued with a soothing smile, "Miss Fujioka's symptoms are so textbook perfect, that I don't think it's really necessary."
Her symptoms were perfect. The Ootori boy had also pulled her aside prior to the exam and explained the patient's deep-rooted fear of hospitals.
"Hear that, Haru-chan?" Hunni called cheerfully. "You even get perfect grades on your hospital tests!"
A nervous laugh whistled out of Haruhi's mouth.
"With a prescribed antibiotic, as well as a modulated diet and plenty of rest, your ulcer should clear right up," the doctor concluded.
"That's great!" Kaoru burst in. "Haruhi, isn't that great?"
The brunette nodded.
"I'll just go write up that prescription," the doctor said. "Mr. Fujioka, if you would accompany me? I have some paperwork for you to fill out, as well as some instructions on how to implement your daughter's recovery."
"Of course."
With a final squeeze of Haruhi's hand, Ranka followed the doctor out of the room. There was a beat of silence, before Kyoya spoke.
"You're awfully quiet, Haruhi. What is it that you're brooding about?"
Hunni jumped to his feet, his brown eyes big and anxious.
"Haru-chan, you're not still mad at us, are you?" he cried. "For telling you dad?"
Slowly, Haruhi shook her head.
"Why didn't anyone ever tell me?" she asked. "About Tamaki, and Hikaru."
"So you haven't been worrying about the now-confirmed hole in your stomach at all," Kyoya said dryly. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Someone should have told me," Haruhi said, rolling right over Kyoya's subdued sarcasm. "No one was surprised when everything blew up back at my house. Which means that everyone has known for a while. Everyone except me. Someone should have told me," she repeated softly. "I've been hurting them for years."
Once again, silence dominated the little room. Surprisingly, this time, Mori shattered it. He unfolded his tall body from his seat, and walked to Haruhi's side. One of Haruhi's eyes squinted shut as the warm weight of a large hand dropped down to rest on her hair.
"Their feelings weren't ours to share," he said quietly. "They trusted us with them. Just as we trusted them with ours."
Haruhi's breath caught. She watched as Kaoru nodded in easy agreement, and Kyoya suddenly became fixated on the black book in his hands.
"We know where we stand, Haruhi," Kaoru said with a quiet smile. "And we're all okay. Really. We just don't want you to worry."
"Yeah!" Hunni agreed cheerfully, and bounced to Haruhi's side. "Don't worry, Haru-chan! It doesn't hurt at all to love you!"
Haruhi stared at all of them, her tongue completely tied. And then the door to the exam room flew open, and Tamaki and Hikaru tumbled in. Judging by their flushed faces and heavy breathing, they'd navigated the hospital hallways at a dead run.
"Haruhi!" they panted, in perfect unison. "Are you all right?"
For a moment, she couldn't answer. Her eyes simply continued to travel from face, to face, to face. The expressions decorating them were different, but underneath all that, there was something similar on every single one.
Patience. And something warm, and ever-burning. For her.
Haruhi's breath hitched. Once. Twice.
And then the boys watched with wonder, and a shrieking sort of alarm, as her huge brown eyes filled with tears.
"I'm completely stupid," she whispered to their now flabbergasted faces. "You guys, I'm so sorry."
...
A/N: Haruhi's finally out of the dark, and on the road to recovery. But will her new awareness help her juggle all of the hearts involved? Stay tuned to find out. Happy Reading!