Test
Kyouya stood outside the locked door, feeling strangely self-conscious and awkward. One of the maids passed by, trying not to look as curious as she felt; Kyouya scowled, and she scurried away, eyes wide. Waiting until she turned the corner, he checked the other end of the hallway, then knocked urgently on the door.
"Are you done?" he whispered.
"What?" she asked from the other side.
"Are you done? Finished? How long does it take, for the love of -" He cut himself off as the housekeeper approached, a perplexed wrinkle between her eyes.
"Kyouya-sama, if you have need of the facilities, there is another just downstairs," she began.
"That's quite all right, Tsubane-san. Thank you for your trouble," he quickly bit out. Her brows rose, but she took him at his word. After all, what else could she do? He was already an adult, and to question him further would imply a lack of respect.
"Who was that?" Her voice was muffled through the door, but clear enough to understand.
"Just the housekeeper. How long are you planning on staying in there? If I'd known you were going to try and humiliate me as some kind of revenge, I would have taken you to the doctor."
Her voice was patient on the other side of the door; too patient.
"You can't rush these things. And I can't imagine how you could be embarrassed by your own servants. After all, they used to wipe up your drool and change your -"
"Yes, okay, I see your point," he quickly interceded, not even wanting to think about his childhood at the moment.
"Besides, I don't think the first one worked, so I'm waiting on the second one."
"We should have gone to the hospital," Kyouya muttered to himself, dragging an impatient hand through his hair. He jerked upright at the sound of the toilet flushing.
"Haruhi?"
The faucet turned on, and he actually contemplated trying to kick down the door.
"Haruhi!"
The door swung open, and she gave him a strange look.
"Calm down, would you? No wonder the servants have been passing by; you're acting a little oddly."
He glared at her.
"And? I've just endured four servants gaining the impression that I've lost my mind; the least you could do is tell me."
She bit her lips, an unusually hesitant gesture from her, and handed him the small stick. He stared at it, trying not to think about germ theory.
"I know I work at a hospital, Haruhi, but I hope you're not expecting me to know what a color means."
She rolled her eyes.
"It's positive, that's what it means. I'm pregnant."
The little test fell from Kyouya's nerveless fingers. Never mind that they had been almost certain; hearing confirmation was different.
"It's too early," he heard someone say. "We were going to wait another two, three years. At the least. There're things that need to be done."
Haruhi scowled at him, and he realized belatedly that he'd been the one speaking.
"I mean, I was trying to say... dear god. Does Ryoji know what to do with a baby?"
Haruhi tried to a swallow sudden and inappropriate laugh; she still needed to voice her displeasure with the way he'd been recently acting. But she couldn't recall ever seeing him losing his composure to such an extent.
"He did raise me; I'm sure it will come back to him. But if you're looking for parenting advice, I think it would be better to speak to Fuyumi-neechan."
He blinked, derailed from whatever thoughts had been spinning through his mind.
"Fuyumi. Right. Then let's go."
Haruhi watched him walk away, bemused.
"Haruhi!"
She jumped slightly, then moved to follow him. Apparently, there were still things she could do that would seriously discompose and unbalance her husband. She hid her relief behind his back, and turned this newest advantage over in her mind.
