Rain slashed sideways against the window, pounding a furious staccato that echoed the beating of Haruhi's heart. Pressing her palm against the glass locking out the storm, she warily searched the clouds above. Outside, waves formed jagged peaks topped with foam all the way to the horizon. Closer in to shore, they crashed against the promontory, sending sheets of water up and over the head of the Beelzenef-shaped rock, it's pale color gleaming macabrely against the slate gray sky.
"Hiding out?"
Haruhi jumped back from the window guiltily and turned, peering through the foliage towards the speaker she knew would be in the doorway. The mid-October sun didn't hang around long, even down here in Okinawa. She'd left the lights off and the storm bathed the alledged 'sun room' in a deep gloom, casting ominous shadows through the leaves of the plants filling every available space, giving the interior jungle a vaguely predatory feel.
Nekozawa's villa was no less creepy than she remembered.
Kyoya strode towards her, effortlessly weaving through the probably carnivorous botany without getting a single speck of dirt on his suit. Unsurprising. He could most likely hike through the Amazon and still emerge as crisp and spotless as if he'd just gotten dressed. She, on the other hand, had to change out of the dress she'd worn to this afternoon's ceremony, which was sticking to her back like a wet mop from the pre-storm humidity, into jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt the minute they got back.
The room was cavernous, but his long legs brought him to her side in mere seconds. Her heart rate doubled, racing now from more than the possibility of thunder. He drew in close, stopping mere centimeters away. It was close enough for his warmth to dissipate some of the chill of the room. Close enough for his cologne, a bitter, citrusy scent that reminded her of Earl Grey tea, to mingle with the pungent, earthy aroma of growing plants and form an intoxicating perfume. Close enough to make the diffuse lighting seem intimate. Inviting. And dangerous to her composure.
Kyoya looked down, one eyebrow quirked in inquiry. Oh, right, he'd asked her a question. Twisting her hands in the hem of her shirt, she gave a sheepish grin. "Not really. I mean, everyone here has been nice. Very solicitous."
Too much so. Nekozawa's entourage was servile to the point of exasperating. Every time she turned around there was someone asking if they could get 'The Master's honored guest' something, all of them staring at her like a pack of forlorn puppies dressed for Halloween. Their eager, earnest expressions made her feel so guilty she forced herself to come up with something, anything, that they could do. "It's just…" she trailed off, shooting a glance at the roiling clouds.
"I checked seven different weather reports." Kyoya, god help her, stepped nearer, intensifying the heady fragrance of rainforest and masculinity wafting around her. Haruhi forced her breath to remain even, to not give in to the temptation to inhale it like incense. "Not a single prediction for thunder and lighting in any of them." He gave the little half-smile that meant he was teasing. "But, just in case, I placed noise canceling headphones in your room. And," he held up a hand peremptorily, "before you protest that you can't because you might be needed - Kirimi-chan and Daiki-kun are currently binge-watching the entire series of Cardcaptor Sakura. I verified that it is entirely suitable for a child his age, unlike everything else in her video library. He'll be happily occupied for hours and, if not, I'm certain his needs will be taken care of by one of the… 'Acolytes.'"
She snickered at the shudder he gave on that last word. "Sorry, it's just…" Her eyes rolled, practically of their own volition. "Acolytes! I can't believe Nekozawa-sempai has Acolytes."
"Now that he can live his life so that he sleeps all day and only goes out at night, his obsession with 'The Darkness,' and his resemblance to a character from an Anne Rice novel, have given him somewhat of a following among a certain sector." Kyoya composed his features into a portrait of mock-solemnity. "I have been assured, quite strenuously, that it is Not. A. Cult."
Haruhi couldn't help it – the whole thing was too surreal. Dissolving into giggles, she had to wipe away a small tear from the corner of her eye before she could sober.
"Ah, that's better," Kyoya stated, a bit smugly, pleased he'd lightened her mood. With a flourish, he held his arm out to her in a move straight out of the Host Club. "Now, if I've set your concerns about the storm to rest, shall we rejoin our host?"
"Ano…" She hesitated, wrinkling her nose. "To be honest, the storm was only partly why I was in here." She jerked her head to the window, towards the landmark cat-rock, now barely visible as twilight fell. "This place holds a lot of memories for me. I just wanted a little peace and quiet to dwell on them."
"I see." He turned his head slightly, pushing up his glasses and shielding his eyes. "I didn't mean to intrude. I'll leave you to it then."
"It's okay, you don't have to go." She held out one hand to stop him. "Don't get me wrong, they aren't sad memories, I don't mind sharing them." Turning to look outside, she let nostalgia envelop her. "For a long time, it was only just Dad and me. I knew he couldn't take care of the both of us all on his own. I always tried to be independent, to rely on myself as much as I could, so I wouldn't be a burden. Wouldn't make him feel like a bad parent because he didn't have the time or money to coddle me."
She sensed more than saw him draw up next to her, a silent encouragement to continue.
"I probably took that too far, sometimes." Kyoya politely refrained from making more than a muffled snort at that understatement. "Until Okinawa, until that day, nobody had ever called me on it. It was a… shock to realize I'd worried everyone. Even Honey-sempai scolded me!" All these years later, the warmth of that moment still had the power to make her smile. "I still don't agree that I shouldn't have intervened, shouldn't have stood-up to those bullies, but… It was the first time I realized that even though I could be self-sufficient, I didn't always have to be. It was the first time I started to think of you guys as friends and not just…"
"Annoying pests?"
"No!" But her polite denial dissolved in the face of his rampant skepticism. "Maybe. Certainly troublesome, at any rate."
"I'm glad you have good memories here." Kyoya's eyes darkened, taking on the color of the sky outside. "As for me, mostly I remember acting unforgivably towards you."
Her brow crinkled, what was he going on about? When it hit her, she waived her hand vigorously in refute. "Oh, that, it was noth…"
"Haruhi," he snapped, "I threatened to rape you! There are some lines that nothing justifies crossing."
"It's okay," she reassured, "I understood. You were just trying to make me see Tamaki's side."
"No." He rejected that with one curt shake of his head. "That's what you concluded, and what I let you believe. At the time, I'm not even sure if I understood why I reacted that way. It's no excuse, but… back then I didn't have very many people in my life who I genuinely liked." He gave a self-deprecating huff. "I still don't.
"That day was the first time in my life where I was faced with the possibility of something bad happening to one of them that I was unable to prevent. That there were some things utterly outside of my control. At sixteen, I didn't know how to handle the sense of… helplessness I felt. And I didn't do it very well." A faint pink tinged his cheeks and he sketched a half-bow. "It's a decade too late, but please forgive me."
Really, he got hung up on the weirdest things sometimes. She remembered the entire incident differently – she always thought of it as the first time his 'cool' façade had cracked enough for something real to seep through. The first time she'd realized the cynical, sarcastic exterior was just a hard shell built to protect a surprisingly squishy middle. Like a shellfish.
"Seriously, it didn't bother me – then or now." His expression didn't ease one bit. "But," she sighed, resigned to say the words he obviously needed to hear, "If it means that much to you, then consider yourself forgiven."
Accepting with a quick nod, he removed his glasses and made a show of cleaning them, covering up his discomfort with activity. "Thank you." Was it wrong to feel a little thrill of satisfaction whenever she managed to fluster him? Probably. But an awkward Kyoya was pretty damn cute.
"To be honest, I'd practically forgotten the whole thing." Although, now that she'd been reminded, it all came flooding back. This time she was older, and a hell of a lot more experienced in some areas. The thought of Kyoya hovering over her… a water-drop slowly sliding off his chiseled collarbone, down sculpted pectorals, heading towards those intriguing notches at his hip which disappeared into his waistband… a predatory gleam in his eye that didn't frighten her in the least… his face drawing ever nearer…
Wow, it was getting hot in here!
And dark.
And very much like the night which, from here on out, she knew would wind-up as the springboard for certain... private thoughts.
Needing to put some distance between them before she did something stupid, like tackle him to the ground in a reversal of the event he'd just apologized for, Haruhi took a step back and turned away – resolutely staring out as the last vestiges of fading light turned the sky the same color as the sea.
"The ceremony today was nice, wasn't it?" Her voice sounded unnaturally bright to her ears. "Very… liturgical. And weird. Sort of… dark and creepy, actually. I'm kind of surprised Honey-sempai went along with it."
There was a minute delay, then Kyoya took his own step away and allowed the topic to change. "I believe it was a compromise – she allowed him to have a curse-free baby naming ceremony for Maiko-chan, he allowed her to dedicate their daughter to the service of the Dark Gods worshiped by Nekozawa-sempai's ancestors. They're an eccentric couple, but somehow it works."
"Must be nice," Haruhi said a little wistfully, "A marriage like that, I mean. Two people, compromising for the other's sake, each working towards the other's happiness." Her words caught up with her ears and she almost switched subjects again. But, what the heck? It was a ham-fisted segue, but if she wanted to start laying the groundwork, encourage Kyoya to consider his own happiness, then she might as well begin now. "I think that's the kind everyone should strive for, don't you?"
From the corner of her eye, she saw him still. Damn, had she gone to far? What had made her think she could pull this sort of thing off? She'd never been good at being indirect, what made her think she could manipulate a grandmaster like Kyoya? "Sorry," she scrabbled to divert any suspicion away from her intentions, "I guess I was thinking outlou…"
"Marry me."
She pivoted so fast she stumbled, barely recovering before her ankle twisted out from under her. Hope formed a tight knot in her throat. She couldn't swallow. Couldn't even breathe.
And then, she looked at him.
He wouldn't meet her eyes, just kept his fixed on a point just to the right of her shoulder. Her heart plummeted down to her stomach and straight through to the floor. He didn't mean it. Not the way she wanted him to. Recovering her powers of speech, she waited until he turned his head. So she could see his face as she asked the only question that mattered. "Why?"
~oOoOo~
Fuck.
Fuck!
FUCK!
What was he doing? He had a plan! A meticulously thought-out perfect plan! Now, here he was barely two weeks into phase 4 and, in one impulsive, unguarded second, he'd gone and jumped all the way to phase 7! What was he thinking?
He should have stayed away from her. All day he'd been… out-of-sorts. Restless. Maybe it had been the joy and contentment radiating from his sempai and their chosen brides. Maybe it was this place, where he'd first begun to care for Haruhi for her own sake and not for that of his friend. Whatever the cause, it had his skin feeling as stretched and tight as an off-the-rack suit.
But, how could he leave her alone? Especially with a storm rolling in. He'd had to satisfy himself she was all right and not huddling in a wardrobe somewhere. Had to reassure her that she could depend on him, that it was safe to let herself be weak.
Maybe if he'd left their discussion at that point, his campaign to court her would still be on-track. But, no, he'd had to go and let her pull him back in time. Let himself be confronted with the memory of something he had never forgotten, never forgiven himself for. Something that, despite the shame he felt, had never lost it's pull. Had never stopped feeling like a missed beginning. A road not taken.
And then there was the final straw, the thing that broke him. Watching her stand there at the window, staring out at the source of her fears. That sad little smile. The loneliness in her eyes. All he could think was that he wanted to erase that expression from her face. That he needed to pull her into his arms, into that spot which had been made just for her – nestled right up against his heart.
He hadn't even realized he'd spoken until she jerked around in surprise. But, now that it was out there, he couldn't take it back. If for one instant she thought he was joking, that he was being even the tiniest bit facetious, she would just laugh it off with her customary denseness. Place him in the same platonic box she'd once put Kasanoda and the twins, where nothing they could say would convince her of their seriousness.
"Why?"
The question hung in the air like a bomb about to explode. A tiny, reckless part of him wanted to blurt it all out, but he held back. Tamped down on it with the weight of every bit of caution and self-control he had. The truth of how much he loved her, of how long he'd loved her, was the one thing he couldn't' say. She could never know, never suspect, the full depth of his betrayal. Realize just how reprehensible he was.
"I… like you." Ignoring her faint gasp of shock, he pushed his glasses up and pushed ahead to make his case. "The last few months have reminded me just how much I value your friendship and enjoy your company. I don't think I'm wrong in believing you feel the same way towards me."
Haruhi's mouth slammed shut, her breathing deepened. The daylight which had given a dim illumination to the room finally died, casting her eyes in shadows too deep to penetrate.
"Our temperaments complement each other nicely. Plus, as a husband I would be of benefit to you – I am well-suited to taking on some of the more annoying duties that will be foisted on you as heir, allowing you to focus on your law career." He didn't need to see her face to know he was failing. In a last, desperate scramble to offer a reason, any reason that was less anemic. One that she might be willing to consider, he echoed her previous statement back to her, "I would… I would always work towards your and Daiki's happiness."
It was as much truth as he could give her.
There was just enough brightness to make out her head bobbing up and down, and for a brief, glorious moment he felt a surge of hope. Then she took one single step back and the last of the light unshielded her gaze. There was no trace of her usual compassion. No gentle regret or empathic apology. Instead, it held only sadness. A weary resignation underlining how much pain his spiritless proposal had caused her. How much he had destroyed any amount of esteem she'd held him in.
"Kyoya, I appreciate the offer." Haruhi's lips twisted up in what would have been a soft smile if it weren't for the dullness in her eyes. "But, I don't think the two of us would be happy together. I think we're better off remaining friends, don't you?"
"Yes, of course." He forced the words past the lump forming in his throat. "I'm sorry if my suggestion made you uncomfortable."
"Don't be. With our families there would always be some pressure to form an alliance neither of us wants. It's probably a good thing that we got this out of the way now." Looking away, she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "I think I'm more tired from today than I thought, I'm going to go to bed early. Goodnight."
Somehow, he managed to resist the impulse to throw himself at her feet and beg her to reconsider. Managed to keep himself together long enough to say goodnight and watch her disappear out the door. Taking his future with her.
~oOoOo~
Without lifting his head from where it had landed last night, buried it face down in the pillow, Kyoya reached over, grabbed the buzzing alarm clock, and flung it against the wall.
The damn thing kept on chirping at him like a demented sparrow.
Pushing himself upright with a groan, he fumbled on the night stand for his glasses with one hand while rubbing at his aching head with the other. Once his vision was no longer blurry, he peered at the demon electronic still annoyingly trying to get him to rise.
10:01. Too damn early.
Not usually, not anymore. Through sheer force of will he'd trained himself to be up at the gods-forsaken hour of 6 a.m. most days. Not today. Too many late-night recriminations, and an half-a-bottle of Macallan that was older than him, had made waking any earlier impossible.
Seizing the pillow behind him, he hurtled it at the infernal noise-maker brightly insisting he start his day. It landed against the alarm with a satisfying 'thud,' finally shutting the wretched thing up. With another groan at the pounding any movement made in his temples (gods, now he remembered why he didn't get drunk), he sprawled back against the bed, laced his fingers behind his head, and stared blankly at the ceiling.
He couldn't have screwed up his proposal any worse if he'd planned it – and oh, he was too aware of every ounce of irony in that sentence. He'd known Haruhi wasn't the type to marry merely for friendship, if she was then she'd still be dating that moron, Hikaru. With every ill-spoken word coming out of his mouth, he had felt her pull away from him further.
The worst of it was, he wouldn't get a second chance. Nothing he could do or say in the future would convince her he felt anything more for her than those anemic sentiments he'd expressed last night. That marrying her was not somehow to his benefit in a plebian, shallow way.
In all his strategizing, he'd never once considered what he would do if he failed. He was Ootori Kyoya, failure didn't happen to him. Setbacks, yes, and the occasional unexpected obstacle, but not failure. Not losing.
Of course, he'd also never imagined he would ever fuck-up one of his plans in such an abject, colossal way.
And then, there had been her reaction. Pity he could have handled, or even anger, but not that crushing sense that he had let her down. Disappointed her expectations of him. Lost her respect. The weight of it bore down on his chest until he almost couldn't breathe. Now he was faced with a worse prospect than living his life alone with just Noel for company - because all along he had known that Haruhi was it for him, the only woman he would ever marry - he may have lost her friendship entirely.
Forcing himself back to sitting, he ignored the pain stabbing behind his eyes. Enough of this - Ootoris didn't mope, didn't sit around whining about things they couldn't change, they acted. They looked ahead and formed a plan to take them towards their goal. First things first, he needed to clean himself up and find her, come up with some excuse for what he said last night she might believe. Do whatever he could to smooth things over and rescue what he could of their relationship.
He flopped back down again. He need just another minute.
Maybe two.
Five at the absolute most.
~oOoOo~
"I'm sorry, Ootori-sama." The raven-haired young woman, clad in the red robe marking her as one of Nekozawa's followers, started tearing up with disappointment over not being able to fulfill Kyoya's request. "Suoh-sama left to return back to Tokyo first thing this morning. I… I could call the charter company, see if they can radio the piolot…"
"No, that won't be necessary," he replied cordially. Her sincerity was so pure it was exhausting. Nope, absolutely nothing cult-like about that at all. "Thank you for your assistance."
She bowed deeply, pressing her palms together in obsequious. "Of course, anything for the Master's treasured guests." Gliding away as silent as a ghost, she exited the front parlor, leaving Kyoya alone.
Piercing cold lanced through him, chasing away the last of his headache. It was worse than he feared, he'd alienated her to the point she felt she had to run. The memory of her eyes haunted him, embracing him in a shapeless dread. He'd never been much of a religious man, he knew the gods would likely mock his hypocrisy. Still he offered up a fervent, sincere prayer to whoever might be listening under his breath. Begging for their help. Pleading they would show him how to fix this.
Staring blankly out the window at a now becalmed sea, he strained to hear any answer they might give him.
"Morning, Kyo-chan!" Honey bounded into the room, as sunny and energetic as that hellish alarm clock. Kyoya had been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn't heard the doorbell. With a final look at the endless, answerless waves, he turned to greet his friends with a pasted-on smile.
"Hn," nodded Mori cordially in greeting, strolling behind his cousin at a more sedate pace.
"We came to pick you and Haru-chan up for lunch," Honey bubbled, "Rei-chan and Hana-chan are in town doing some shopping and texted that they found the cutest café that serves purple yam and chocolate-passion fruit ice cream. Aren't those great ideas for cakes? Maybe we could do 'regions of Japan' themed cakes for a limited promo offer. Maybe in the summer - the tourists would love it!"
"That is an interesting idea, Honey," Kyoa replied, in a tone too flat to match the sentiment. "But, I'm afraid Haruhi needed to return home earlier than planned." Unable to meet eyes that would see too much, Kyoya made a show of adjusting the sleeves on the black turtleneck he'd randomly pulled out of his closet this morning. "Please forgive me if I don't join you. I had a late breakfast." Lie. He hadn't eaten a bite.
"Haru-chan left without telling us?" Honey leapt forward, concern radiating from every pore. "Is everything okay at home? Oh!" Chocolate eyes grew as big as tea plates with distress. "Did being back here make her too sad? Maybe I should have convinced Rei-chan to have the ceremony somewhere else." He gripped Kyoya's arm insistently. "Kyo-chan, we should go after her. I'll let her hold Mai-chan, she's even nicer to cuddle with than Usa-chan when you want to feel better."
"No!" Kyoya spoke more sharply than he intended, immediately feeling guilty at the hurt that crossed the blonde moppet's face. "I mean… I'm sure she would appreciate having some time to herself for a while."
Honey released his grasp and went completely still, eyes narrowing sharply. "Why?" he asked, low and quiet, "Tell me what happened, Kyoya."
There was no point in trying to dissemble. Even if Haruhi said nothing, these two understood human nature too well not to guess. They always had. As much as he valued their friendship, sometimes it was a curse. "I suppose she thought to spare my feelings this morning." Kyoya adjusted his glasses in a futile attempt to shield himself from their prying gaze. "I confessed to her last night and she rejected me."
If anything, his cherubic sempai grew even stiller, the aura around him subtly thickening until it was as oppressive as last night's storm. "Did you, really?" Honey's voice grew as silken as the blade of a knife. "Did you confess properly? Did you tell her the truth about how you feel? The whole truth?"
Kyoya's heart thudded against his chest, throbbed in his ears. Of course. Of course these two knew the shame he had tried so hard to hide from everyone. "I can't," he said so softly it was practically a whisper. "It would hurt her too much to hear it."
And she would hate him.
"I see." Honey shifted, subtly putting a space between them that gaped like a chasm. With ancient eyes, he studied kohai intently. Scrutinizing him like a surgeon deciding where to cut. Kyoya fought the urge to shift his weight from side-to-side as if he were an errant child. His friend's silence was so deep it was nearly unbearable. For once, he was the one tempted to break it.
Finally, just at the point Kyoya was sure he would snap, Honey dropped his shoulders back and lengthened his spine. "All this time we've known each other, Ootori-san." All trace of the sweet loli-shota vanished beneath a countenance as cold and pitiless as one of his samurai ancestors. "And never once did I realize you were a coward."
The word came at him so unexpectedly, and with such force, Kyoya nearly rocked back on his heels. Instinctively, he cast a pleading glance at the silent giant hovering in the doorway, but the lack of a reproving 'Mitskuni' told Kyoya all he needed to know. Mori shared in his cousin's condemnation.
"C'mon Takashi, it's time for us to go." Honey pivoted sharply on his heel and strode out the door without a backward glance.
Mori lingered a moment longer. "You should tell her, Kyoya." His was kinder, but no less unyielding. No less free of disapproval. "If you can't risk showing someone the parts of yourself you're most ashamed of, then it isn't love." And then he too was gone.
Coward.
The word reverberated through the empty room, rang in his ears so loud he felt his balance waver Disoriented, he clutched the back of the settee and dragged gulps of air into his lungs as the truth crashed into him, threatening to drown him. For all his sweetness, Honey's blood ran with generations of warriors. When he landed a strike, it was accurate, precise, and strategically placed to have the most impact. In one instant, everything Kyoya had held true about himself twisted, forming a new, more accurate picture. One that didn't flatter.
He was a coward.
Oh, not that anyone else would accuse him of it. But they only saw the businessman, the chess master. Only he knew that never, not once in his life, had he allowed himself to be in a position where anything of real value was at stake. Every risky venture he'd undertaken, every bold move, had been nothing more than a carefully devised Dutch book. A series of strategies constructed to ensure that, in all possible outcomes, he benefited far more than he could possibly lose. Because money and influence were cheap, easy to play with. Trivial to gamble with because it wouldn't hurt for him to lose. The things that were truly important he was careful to never put on the line – his friendships, his family's legacy and, most of all, the dark, hidden parts of himself that couldn't bear the light.
And most of the time, that was a good thing. He'd set his priorities a long time ago, guarded fiercely the things that mattered to him. But, those things had never come in conflict with each other. Had never been the price for gaining something even greater. And when faced with that very situation, he'd let fear drive his path.
Selfishly, he had wanted it all, and on his own terms. He'd mapped out a clever stratagem to win Haruhi's love - to gain all of her warmth, and light, and kindness - without having to offer anything more in return than his care and protection. Without letting her do more than glimpse beneath his shields. Without giving up any of his true self.
Mori was right - that wouldn't be love. It would be possession.
How arrogant of him! And how presumptions. He had always known he wasn't worthy of her, his intentions towards her too self-serving, but all his little self-justifications had kept him on his path. It would be best for her, for everyone, if he stepped aside. For good this time. He could let time and distance turn them into mere acquaintances. He would accept the reality of the situation and marry the least objectionable of his father's suggestions. Settle into a dispassionate, lifeless marriage based on mutual benefit. It was nothing less than what deserved.
And maybe, just maybe, he'd then be able to find a way to not live in regret for something he never should have had the temerity to reach for in the first place.
Kyoya felt life and energy drain out of his body as he resolved himself to let his selfish dreams of Haruhi go. Despair numbed him, bestowing a strange type of peace. He'd felt that before, the bone-deep weariness of knowing some things just couldn't be helped. That some things were simply destined not to be, no matter how much you wished otherwise. That fate had issued its decree.
Out of nowhere, the memory of violet-blue eyes, peering up at him, piercing into his soul assailed him. Accusing words flung a challenge at him across a dozen years and fifteen hundred kilometers.
"Who actually forbids you?" The boy he had envied from the depths of his soul, whose very personality and attitude made a mockery of everything Kyoya believed, didn't back down one bit. Not even with Kyoya's hands perilously close to wrapping around the idiot's neck in rage. Instead, lying on the ground, completely at a disadvantage, he had the audacity to dare Kyoya to seize control of his own destiny. "You are the one who isn't putting in enough effort. You are the one giving up without a fight."
Slowly, wonderingly, Kyoya released his death grip on the sofa, pushing himself upright. The words that had once burrowed into the heart of a lonely, unhappy boy held no less impact on the unhappy, lonely man. They wrapped around him, chasing away the frigid hopelessness and shame he'd encased himself in, igniting a fire within his soul that pointed the way. Pointed the path toward being a better person than he'd thought he was capable of being.
He had prayed for guidance and, despite all his expectations, it had come. For the first time In six years, he could feel the comforting warmth of a friendship he'd thought lost forever. And, along with it, a feeling that had been gone for so long he had stopped noticing it's absence – hope. With a brief, heart-felt 'thank you' to the friend who'd once again set him on the right course, he headed towards the door, already pulling out his phone to arrange for a flight home.
Destiny could be overturned. Fate could be defied. He had done both before. Then, it had required the strength to craft his future with his own hands. Now, it demanded something infinitely harder – putting that future in the hands of another. With no plans. No schemes. No expectation of any given outcome. It was time to do the one thing he had never done before, risk himself, his real self, on one reckless roll of the dice.
It was time to finally tell Haruhi the truth.
All of it.
A/N – I am a very, very evil writer. I simply love bringing Kyoya to his knees. He is always so shielded – even when he allows people to peer underneath his guard, he still never really confirms what they suspect. I couldn't control the urge to strip all of that away and make him realize that the only way he could be with Haruhi is to actually open up to her. Besides, he's had things too much his own way for most of this story, no way could I let that continue *evil grin*.
I worried that I wrote Honey too harsh, I know he hates being mean. I also think he's smart enough about people to know that sometimes the kindest thing you can do is make them confront the the thing that is holding them back. I'm sure he cried about it in the car to Mori afterwards.
This ended up being the penultimate chapter instead of the final after all. The last section made too nice a chapter end for me not to split things. The good news is I have the rough draft of the real final chapter completed and hope I can get it refined and uploaded within the week.
Thanks to all the new followers and favoriters who've just found this story. And big, big thanks to everyone whose left a review. A few responses:
xxxSerinaxxx and everyone who hoped Haruhi would make the first move – I wanted that too, but I think Kyoya needed to watch all his little plots crumble.
Alexia Colette – if you thought where I ended the last chapter was cruel, I don't even want to know what you think now.
JJSprinkle – happy to be back and writing again. I think the writer's block is gone, at least until I hit the epilogue.
Tigyr and all you other writer's – glad to know I'm not the only one who gets 'it's-just-not-right-itis' with a story.
Annjudith and MollyMuffinHead – no spoilers, except to say that I would never write a romance that didn't have an HEA. And this is most definitely a romance.
