Chapter 28: Mistakes

He had taken her to a café, not far off campus, nothing too fancy, something that wouldn't make her feel out of place or in any way uncomfortable. The only way he ever wanted her to feel around him was at ease. So far, it seemed to be working pretty well. They both sat comfortably in their chairs, their smiles ever present. They'd gone to cafés together before, but it was never a time categorized as a date.

So that was different.

"So you think you're ready for the finals?" Mori asked, he'd been trying to keep the conversation light, but they'd somehow run out of topics.

"I think so," Haruhi said, smashing the rest of her cheese cake onto the back of her fork, then proceeded to lick it off. "Mori…"

The sudden seriousness of Haruhi's voice and her eyes that looked up at him made Mori suddenly curious. "Yeah?"

"Why did you just decide to ask me out now?" Haruhi asked.

Mori stared at her, his lack of topics turning into a complete lack of words.

"I just figured it was time," Mori said.

"Oh," Haruhi said. "What about-" but before she got the rest of whatever it was she was about to say, Mori had generously shoved a bite of his Banana's Foster in her mouth.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Mori said, when, in truth, he just didn't want to think about how the fact that he was making a move would probably crush most of the other hosts. But when he really thought about it, he decided he shouldn't care. They'd had their chances, he gave them plenty of time, years' worth, and none of them had tried; or at least, not hard enough. It was his turn.

"It doesn't?" Haruhi asked around the large bite of scrumptious in her mouth.

"It doesn't," Mori confirmed, but then, something else entered his mind. "Did you wish that I would've asked you sooner?" this kind of question, he knew it was different from what he would normally ask; normally, he never wanted to chance making Haruhi uncomfortable, but he found he couldn't help himself. He wanted to know, for the longest time, if the feelings he held had been returned just as secretly.

Haruhi swallowed abruptly, the gulp audible. "Um…"

Then Mori did this strange thing, he relaxed against the back of his chair, folded his hands in his lap and a smirk threatened his lips. He looked like he was only there to enjoy a show, and it was obvious he already knew. He knew Haruhi had wanted him long before either of them were able to express such things. She didn't need to confirm it now, but he still wanted her to. Her words of confirmation meant everything to him.

"Well…" Haruhi said, as she looked away. "I mean…" She looked down at her plate, driving her fork through the mush that had once been cherry cheesecake. She couldn't look at him anymore. His smirk turned to a grin as he noticed the color sprouting on her round cheeks. "Yeah…"

And his grin burst into a smile.

"I wish I had too," the smile was noticeable in his voice.

Haruhi met his eyes, saw his smile and couldn't help but smile back, small and shy.

They were walking to Haruhi's next class, close enough to almost touch, and they did a couple times, Haruhi's shoulder brushing up against Mori's elbow. Eventually, however, that changed. Mori's fingers touched the skin of Haruhi's forearm and they skimmed down until Haruhi's hand began gravitating to his. Their fingers met with no hesitation, sliding into place, fingers intertwined.

Sebastian hadn't left the house. It had been a day already. And he hadn't even had the energy to bathe, which was almost unforgivable. Here he was, a demon spiraling down a vortex of humanly depression. What was wrong with him? He was an illustrious being of the darkest depths of the world! He wasn't even a part of this world goddammit! The only tie to humanity he should have was his capability of looking like one!

He stood with a start, a look of deprecation adorned his face and he realized that it didn't matter if he hadn't taken a damn bath in over a day. He was made of nothing but the essence of evil, he didn't need a human body, he didn't need to do human things… he needed a soul and he needed to rip it to pieces and devour every bit of it.

A smirk twisted sinisterly up his face, his eyes glowing so bright it could make the ocean sizzle and evaporate (evidence that at least one writer is clearly delusional). He came to the clear conclusion that the only way he'd ever be happy was if he embraced that terrible part of him that craved the very thing that never was and never would be a part of him: a soul, a pure and good soul.

He was just about to go looking for one when all of a sudden his front door flew open and in walked a very nicely dressed Ciel, looking every bit as manly as he had the last time Sebastian had seen him. He vaguely recalled that he hadn't even ordered anything at that time, what a waste of an outing, because it's not like he had all eternity to live or anything… except he did.

"What're you doing here?" Sebastian asked.

Ciel raised an eyebrow and proffered a red rose. "What do you mean? I'm just delivering my daily rose," Ciel explained innocently, his head tilted to the side ever-so-slightly. Then he smiled.

"I don't recall hearing you knock… nor did I open the door for you," Sebastian responded irritably.

"As far as I'm concerned, you don't have to anymore, you've already done it once," his smile turned impish.

Sebastian stared. "What do you want?"

Ciel sighed, placing the blooming rose on the small side table in the entryway before looking upon the tormented demon. "To divulge a secret or two, since it seems you're incapable of figuring them out on your own…"

"Oh?" Sebastian couldn't help but be slightly interested. "What sort of secrets?"

Ciel smiled, "The kind that could be quite useful to you."

"Really? And you plan to tell me for free?" Sebastian asked. Ciel was a demon now, demons never gave anything for free.

"I suppose it all depends on you," Ciel smirked. "Call it a gamble on my part."

Sebastian couldn't help but be taken aback, his eyebrows pulling together.

"Oh, don't give me that, you'll be thankful, I assure you," Ciel said as he brushed past Sebastian and walked straight into the living room and flopped down onto the cushy couch.

"What kind of game are you playing?" Sebastian asked, following the attractive young man into the living room, getting more frustrated by the second. He hated not knowing what was going through the other man's head, especially when it involved him.

"A game that only I can lose… either that, or we both win, most likely," Ciel said. "Are you ready to listen?"

"What is it that you'll be winning exactly?"

"My god Sebastian, stop your childish worrying and just listen to me! You won't be disappointed, I'm serious."

Sebastian squinted. "Fine, tell me."

Ciel lost no time. "You remember that group of boys you went to that sketchy burlesque club with?" Ciel began and Sebastian nodded. "Well, their little girlfriend is dying," it was a flippant statement, the blip that was the sad excuse for a human existence.

"She's Grell's assignment," Sebastian stated in realization after he'd had a moment to process the information that had been given to him. He had his phone out before Ciel could stop him, intending to let his idiot ex-lover know.

"He knows," Ciel said, a look of distaste crossing his face as he looked at Sebastian's mobile device. "The Undertaker was fool enough to give it away, unfortunately," Ciel watched as Sebastian lowered his cell, putting it back in his pocket. "I've a person in the position to save the girl, but I think he isn't quite bright enough to understand the situation fully. Lack of information is the obvious cause for this, but you know how loathe I am to give up a good game," Ciel crossed his legs and looked up at Sebastian.

"Save her?" Sebastian asked. "You're saving her?" Sebastian's tone was incredulous.

"Well, I'm not going to save her, but there does seem to be something about this one, have you noticed?" Ciel inquired. "Even the Undertaker seems rather smitten, which is rather disgusting, but each to his own."

"They're all smitten with her," Sebastian drawled.

"Exactly," Ciel said, a smile threatening his lips. "She's the center of their world. What wouldn't they do to save her?"

Sebastian stayed silent.

"Nothing. There's nothing they wouldn't do for her. They'd even go as far as selling their souls. I've already proven that," the smile was snide and grim on Ciel's lips. "Wouldn't you like to prove it as well?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. Mori flashed through his mind. He was beginning to understand what Ciel was insinuating.

"Why are you doing this for me?" Sebastian asked.

"I'm not. Sadly, this is the only way I can think of to fulfill a certain promise I made to a certain doomed individual," Ciel crossed his arms, pouting slightly. "You'd be doing me a favor, think of it as payment for setting you free." Ciel stood, his copper eyes meeting Sebastian's. His face was suddenly serious. "All you have to do is get Mori to sellout, an easy purchase if you say the right things, make the right moves. I know you can, you haven't lost an inch, though I've continuously gained a few," his smile was playful, in the only way Ciel's smile could be: dangerously playful. "That's all," and the young man was headed for the front door.

"Ciel," Sebastian called. "I can't trust you."

The young man turned, "Oh, but you can. Ask the Undertaker if you need confirmation, he knows too much for his own good." Then the young demon smiled again, this smile hiding no agenda. "I have no wish to lead you astray… not anymore, Sebastian."

The door shut behind him with a soft click, and Sebastian stood in the hall, wondering what he should do. He didn't wonder for long though, because within just a few moments, the devil inside him began to show its menacing face and he began to remember what he really was. He would confirm Ciel's story and decide from there.

Before he did any of that, however, he needed to fix something. He was in great need of a shower.

Mori had just gotten back to the apartment, and as it was still early afternoon, he expected to be the only one home. He shuffled out of his shoes, his mind occupied with the remembrance of the softness that had been Haruhi's fingers, twined with his own. He couldn't seem to get it out of his mind. If her fingers with that soft, he could only imagine how soft other parts of her were. He didn't have a very long time to think upon it though, because he had just entered the kitchen and what was waiting there left no room for other thoughts. At the kitchen table sat a cross-looking Honey, his arms just as crossed as the rest of him… but really, only his arms were crossed… across his chest where they made him look very intimidating, especially since he wasn't really small anymore.

"Mitsukuni," Mori stated as their eyes locked.

"Takashi," Honey replied, his eyes venomous slits. "Where were you? You're usually home by this time."

"How would you know?" Mori replied, obviously referencing the fact that Honey hadn't been living with them for a while now.

Honey just scoffed.

"I was with Haruhi," Mori said a moment later.

Honey bristled (quite like a toothbrush), "What were you two doing?"

"Eating lunch," Mori said and went to the cupboard to retrieve a cup before getting himself some juice out of the fridge.

"That's not it," Honey said. "What were you two really doing?"

"Just that," Mori wasn't one to budge easily, especially when he had already told the truth.

"You're lying!" Honey accused outright, standing on top of his seat.

"Not everyone likes women only for what's between their legs," Mori replied severely, his voice not rising, but his tone clearly communicating how fed up he was with Honey.

Honey didn't seem to have a comeback aside from his fiery expression. Mori looked up at his old friend for a span of several seconds, waiting, challenging him to say something back. He didn't. Mori nodded once, turning to leave, but again, he was stopped in his tracks.

"So… you were having lunch with Haruhi?" Hikaru asked, his eyes downcast, his voice strained as if he was trying desperately to keep emotion out of it. He wasn't doing a very good job.

"Yeah," Mori responded, blocking out any pangs of guilt he would have typically felt. The time for guilt was over.

"... like a date?"

Honey's eyes bored into Mori's back, having enough power to count for his own and Hikaru's. They waited. Mori didn't hesitate as long as he had expected.

"Yeah, a date."

The world went silent.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Where was everybody?

"OH! Look at this!" Kaoru ran over to a corner that held a large, red chainsaw. "Why do you have a chainsaw… in your apartment?"

"Oh, I'm a psychotic serial killer," Grell said with a flourish.

Kaoru raised an amused eyebrow. "You're really weird, you know that?"

Grell smiled before taking several steps forward, closing the space between him and his favored twin. Kaoru was pulled in close to the red maniac as Grell's arms wrapped snuggly around him. Their eyes locked.

Grell chuckled. "And you think I'm joking," Grell said, before giving Kaoru a quick peck on the lips.

Kaoru smiled up at Grell, unable to stop himself, and he would've let Grell start making out with him, but… "So, why did you suddenly decide to move… today?" Kaoru asked, extricating himself from Grell's arms.

Grell hardly missed a beat, "Oh, I just felt it was time to get my own place, you know, so I could be more strategically alone with you," he said, getting closer to Kaoru, but not putting his arms around him. He simply got close enough so he could look directly into his boyfriend's eyes, their heights matching almost perfectly.

"Oh, really? Is that the reason?" it was obvious Kaoru was feeling a little bit nervous, for some reason.

"Mmm, it was," Grell responded, his hand finding its way to Kaoru's back as he pulled him in closer. "That very reason," Grell whispered before bringing his lips to Kaoru's where they glided leisurely together, in a gentle kiss.

He wished he hadn't woken up as soon as his eyes opened. Everything was blurry and it felt like a cinder block was resting on his forehead. Probably the worst part about the situation though, was that he still had yet to locate his glasses, and therefore couldn't remedy the fact that everything was completely out of focus. There was also the matter of him forgetting where exactly he was.

He rolled over and reached to where his bedside-table would normally be, but found nothing but empty air. His bed didn't feel quite as wide as normal either, in fact he was in danger of falling off it completely. Which he did, he wasn't quite moving with his regular agility, if he'd had any before at all. He fell on the softest carpet he'd ever felt in his life, almost as if it had never been tread on in all its existence. He looked up, trying to make sense of his surroundings, but the thing was, he really couldn't make out a damn thing… then he remembered where he was. He was in a man's apartment, a man by the name of Josef. He wondered if he looked back at the bed he'd been on –if he could see that is-, if he would find Josef there as well, lying on the other side; however, Kyoya's suspicions were soon quenched. He could hear a voice coming from someplace other than the bedroom he was presumably in. It sounded like Josef was talking to someone.

Kyoya stood, slowly, the world going shaky around him as he finally made it to his feet. He took several steps forward before he promptly ran into a wall. Josef's voice quieted.

In a few seconds, Kyoya could hear what sounded like a door opening, directly beside him.

"You're up!" Josef said excitedly. He was, apparently, having none of the aftereffects that came along with drinking too many toxins.

"Sort of," Kyoya admitted. His voice was a lot less pained than he'd expected.

"Come on, I made some hangover soup! Haejangguk!"

Kyoya looked in the direction he believed Josef was located. His vision slowly began to clear until the image was as flawless as Josef's paintings. His transition, even without any of the usual intense emotions, was progressing. Kyoya even began to notice that his headache was lessening with each passing moment.

"Alright…"

When they got to the kitchen Kyoya stared at the monstrous cauldron-like pot that sat atop the stove, bubbling happily.

"Are you expecting company?" Kyoya asked, curious as to why Josef had made so much and wondering if there was already someone here, considering Josef had just been talking to someone.

"Oh no, I just couldn't find a recipe that wasn't in bulk, so I just went ahead and made it. I figured I could give most the leftovers to Oz, he can't cook to save his life and he'd put it to best use anyway," he said while continuously smiling. "Although, to his credit, he can make any drink ever, I mean, it only makes sense," there was something more to Josef's words than what he was saying. Was this Oz person, perhaps, a drunk? Kyoya wondered. At the same time though, he didn't much care.

"What is it exactly?" Kyoya asked, eyeing the hot stuff suspiciously, it didn't look much like something he would want to ingest while hungover, maybe not even otherwise. So many strange looking lumps bobbed about in the red liquid. "Do I smell gochugaru?"

"Yes! It's Korean, so it has Napa and some other veggies, it's a beef broth and there's congealed ox blood! All those little brown blobs," and Josef picked up a ladle to jab at the brown floating lumps. "Those are the blood."

"Interesting," Kyoya said.

Josef plopped the ladle into the pot then spun toward a cupboard, retrieving a bowl and coffee mug.

"I only have one bowl," he smiled sheepishly, then ladled a generous bowlful and handed it to Kyoya. "The spoons are over there in that drawer," he pointed then went back to manning his ladle.

Kyoya got two spoons and handed one to Josef when he'd finally turned around. The two of them stood looking into their soup in silence for a moment.

"Itadakimasu," Kyoya finally offered, and spooned up a good amount of the soup. It tasted good, spicy and flavorful, and the blood wasn't even gross. It was like gelatin meat, which wasn't as bad as that description made it sound. "It's good," Kyoya said, looking up at Josef who was at present munching on the blood.

"You sound surprised. Never had a man cook for you before?" Josef asked, his voice floating in clouds of flirtation, his eyes inquiring.

Kyoya paused for a moment, stirring his soup absently. "Aside from my chefs (this also included Mori), no, I can't say I have," he replied matter-of-factly.

"You and Tamaki are no joke, want some rice?" Josef asked, pulling out a Tupperware from the fridge, filled with chilled rice.

"Please," Kyoya responded.

"Tama-chan, guess what," Honey said as he walked into the king's glorious chambers. "Tama-chan?" he appeared to not be in the room. But then again, the room was so cluttered, it was just really hard to tell.

"What could you possibly have to say to me? You, who left the hosts of your own volition, can only have one thing to say to me, your king! Bow down before me now," and Tamaki appeared out of the pile of satiny pillows. "And beg for forgiveness! And maybe, just maybe, I'll pardon you for your treacherous criminal acts of despicability!"

"Eh?" was Honey's intelligent response.

"Oh… you didn't come to apologize to me?" Tamaki asked, his voice losing its kingly edge.

"No, wasn't planning on doing that," Honey confessed, though it appeared as if he didn't much care.

"Well," Tamaki began. "What did you come here for then?"

"I wanted to tell you about the news," Honey said.

"News?"

"About Haruhi," Honey clarified.

"Haruhi?"

"She and Mori went on a date," Honey said with a dramatic sigh.

And in that moment, Tamaki imploded. Not literally, but he might as well have, because his insides felt destroyed, on fire, and painful. He wished he'd just died right then and there, that's how much he couldn't stand hearing what Honey had just said.

"… What?" His voice was much stronger, angrier than he expected.

Honey looked surprised at the curt question.

"Mori and Haruhi are… dating? I guess?" Honey said, his voice on the timid side.

Tamaki didn't have a response to that. He could only stare. Granted, he wasn't really staring at anything in particular. He wasn't watching anything in front of him, he was just seeing his memories pass by. Everything Haruhi and him had been through, every time he thought she might return his feelings… the last few weeks where she wouldn't even look him in the eye.

A shadow cast over Tamaki's face and he became the picture of indifference. Inside however, indifference was not what he was feeling.

"Doesn't matter," Tamaki said, though it was ground out as more of a gravelly whisper. "She can do whatever she wants… whoever she wants."

But even though he said that, he didn't mean a word.

"Oh… Ok, I thought you'd… like, care," Honey said, and left the room.

Tamaki collapsed back onto his mountain of pillows and stared up at his ceiling for a moment. He wished he didn't care, but he couldn't help himself. It was Haruhi.

"I care," Tamaki said to the ceiling. That was the problem, he cared too much.

It was evening by the time Kyoya started heading home. He'd accompanied the strange Josef character to his friend Oz's apartment to deliver a large quantity of the Haejangguk, and had somehow ended up drinking coffee again with both of the males. It turned out that the Oz character was quite the businessman and had aspirations to open a café sometime soon; it seemed like a perfect fit for the tall, green-eyed man. Needless to say, Kyoya somehow ended up liking both of them, which was a little weird for him. Maybe American's were just easier to make a good impression on… but that couldn't be it, because most of the time all the American's he had met thought he was too uptight and didn't want anything to do with him aside from business.

He hadn't really wanted to leave, which was even stranger for him, but Josef had to go work wherever it was he said. It seemed the guy worked in several places; at least, that's what Kyoya had been able to gather. It was a bit strange he supposed.

None of that mattered though, for all he knew, he'd never see those two weird people ever again. What mattered was that he was headed back to the apartment… and he really didn't want to. Mori and Haruhi went on their lunch date today. What else had they done?

He shouldn't think about it. It'd eat him up. And the last thing he needed right now was to let his dastard emotions get out of hand. He should start considering what to do after this apparent 'transition' thing was completed. That was a puzzle, one that could take a long time to figure out if he wanted to continue... living… if he planned on keeping his friends as friends.

His hands tightened on the wheel as he turned the car into the parking garage. He parked and rested his forehead against the leather of the wheel, breathed through his nose. This was going to be awful, having to look at her, to see her. If only she wasn't everything he wanted. He banged his head on the steering wheel once, then let himself out of the car and started the dreadful walk inside.

Making his entrance silent was impossible, the door squealed regardless of how slowly he opened it, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway. It was as if Honey had been anxious for his return; the boy-now-young-man jumped on him as soon as his shoes were off.

"Kyoya! Finally!" Honey yelled. "You're the only one who can fix this!" but Kyoya wondered if Honey actually believed what was coming out of his own mouth. Kyoya didn't try to reply, his main focus was on maintaining his balance. "Mori has officially ruined everything!" Honey continued.

Kyoya somehow managed to disentangle himself from Honey's longer-than-normal limbs. "His date went well then, I assume," Kyoya spoke in a quiet tone, figuring that was the best way to feign indifference.

Honey, who had been previously walking backwards in front of Kyoya, stopped, letting Kyoya's chest bump his. "You knew?" he managed to say after being slack-jawed for a brief moment.

"Is that so surprising?" Kyoya asked, then maneuvered around the immobile blond boy-man, heading for his room. He intended to fall asleep and never wake up.

However, the universe seemed to be completely against him. He somehow managed to run into Tamaki, colliding with the other's shoulder. Then he was suddenly shoved up against the wall, his shoulder blades smarting from the abrupt impact.

"Kyoya," Tamaki said, and his voice was oddly vehement. "It can't stay this way."

"Stop it."

Tamaki's violet eyes were wide, and Kyoya knew his own were dead of emotion, he felt the deadness all over his face. Tamaki's hands slowly let Kyoya go, but it felt like more than just the physical separation. Tamaki took a step back, a subtle shift from surprise to anger taking place on his features.

"She's happy. Do you want to take that from her?" Kyoya asked, keeping his voice low. He figured everyone was home by now, and the walls in this place weren't exactly sound-proof.

Now Tamaki just looked miserable, completely defeated. Kyoya glanced sideways and saw that Honey looked much the same. It wasn't his fault, but it felt that way, somehow. But even though his heart ached for his friends and even himself, he didn't care. For him, his only happiness could be found in Haruhi's. At least, that's what he was trying desperately to believe.

He made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

The problem with being a somewhat reclusive psycho, was the fact that actually going out was sort of a big deal, and required research on how to actually get places. So that was why it was taking an excruciating amount of time to get to the apartment where Haruhi was living. After becoming the owner of his dinky little flower shop, he'd basically forgotten that his small bit of street, and the other shops that occupied it, didn't encompass the whole of the world. Just Undies'.

He'd finally come upon it though. All he had to do was knock on, or possibly break down, the right door. He wasn't sure which would be better to do. Lucky for him though, he didn't end up needing to do either because that one friend – normally the wearer of the glasses – opened one of the doors. Normally-the-Wearer-of-the-Glasses turned around and abruptly stopped when he caught sight of Undies.

Kyoya's face became instantly stern as he spotted the silver-haired menace. He hadn't seen him since the burlesque club and he didn't like the sight of him now. He'd rather not deal with the weirdo at the moment…

"Hello!" Undies called out.

…it appeared Kyoya had no choice.

"Hello…" Kyoya didn't sound particularly enthralled.

"Do you think you'll be out long? Is anyone else home?" Undies asked unwittingly.

Kyoya blinked, his features that of an annoyed cat. "I'm not sure how long I'll be out nor am I completely aware of anyone else's presence inside," he was lying, he knew everyone aside from Kaoru was inside and fast asleep. He didn't actually know where Kaoru was, which was rather unlike himself. He tended to keep close tabs on all of his friends' whereabouts.

"Well, if you could just give Haruhi to me, that'd make everything a lot easier," Undies said, brushing off Kyoya's obvious lie.

Kyoya just stared.

"Don't lie, I can see right through you. You're practically a ghost by now," Undies' smile was a bit on the crazed side. "Pretty soon you'll be nothing but darkness."

Kyoya's eyes changed from their indifferent stare to a look of realization.

"You know," he said.

"I do," Undies confirmed. "And I also know who it is that you're looking for."

He hadn't thought of it before, the thought of using Kyoya for his own gain hadn't even crossed his mind… until now.

Kyoya looked suddenly desperate. "Who? Tell me," Kyoya took several steps closer to the Undertaker.

"It's Grell you're after… I'm on your side," the sincerity in Undies' voice was impossible to miss.

Kyoya felt a chill run across his being, he could feel his heart harden and drop to his gut.

"There… there must be some mistake."

Kyoya loved Haruhi… he cared for Kaoru too though.

"There's no mistake. I don't often make those… on purpose," his smile lengthened.

try to reply, his main focus was on maintianing jumped on him as soon as his shoes were off. hand.


We're rather depressed... It appears we only have two fans left. It's a good thing they're our favorite ones, otherwise we never would've posted this. It is shorter than normal, by about 1,000 words, but we've been depressed, so... that's why.

Dear Our Two Fans, We love you. We need you. Please, for the sake of this story, don't leave us! We're sorry Arata, that Taine died, we know you loved him dearly... but you never got to tell him, because you're too ashamed. And you were afraid he didn't returned your feelings, but he did; he was just as scared as you were. Anyway, Arata, you have our deepest and most regretest condolences.

And OurChan (Aka Sebby'sChan, aka Evan), we're so glad you exist, and the very unique and one of a kind sculpture we promised you is waiting... we still need to paint it.

All our love (and it's a lot since you only have to share with one other person), PP and Monkey