Chapter 54 - Head of the Table

Weekday mornings are typically ordinary for Fujioka Haruhi, but not today. Today is unlike any other, though the reason for it has nothing to do with Tuesday morning and everything to do with Monday night. And no matter how things unfold, she knows she's reached a turning point in her life. Still, there's time enough for contemplation; just not while the comforter surrounding her is warm, soft and scented with lavender. She allows her eyes to drift closed again, luxuriating in the strange delight of sleeping in on a school day, when she hears a female voice on the room's intercom.

"Are you awake, Fujioka-sama?"

Haruhi forces herself to sit up, rubbing nightsand from her eyes. "Yes," she answers and the door swings opens. A petite maid enters carrying clothing on padded hangers and a small tray bearing a teapot for one and a single cup.

"Ohayo, miss. I am Ikue, Shido-sama's personal maid. Your clothes are cleaned and pressed and there's a new set of undergarments, courtesy of my mistress, and a cardigan to replace the blazer you left at school. The analgesics are to be taken with your tea per Ootori-sensei. When ready, an assortment of breakfast foods awaits your perusal in the kitchen."

"Thank you."

Haruhi is about to ask a question, but Ikue continues. "Your coat has been brushed and your cellphone re-charged. Your bookbag is with them so you may review your schoolwork and study today. An appointment has been arranged for your ankle to be examined and the Mistress has asked her reiki master to stop by this morning, if you're agreeable to treatment."

"I suppose," Haruhi responds, wondering how much the rest of her day has been pre-arranged. I thought rich people had lots of free time to do whatever they wanted. The maid sets the tray down and removes the steeping teabag from its vessel, revealing a commoner brand. Haruhi smiles, then glances at the clock above the messy desk sharing the room with her, startled to learn it's past nine. She never sleeps late, no matter the day. What's wrong with me? But she knows not much is going to spoil her good mood.

She eases her feet onto the floor and feels around her ankle, surprised to find the swelling has gone down considerably. As soon as she stands, however, Ikue is by her side.

"Really, I'm fine," Haruhi insists and the girl steps back with a murmured apology. Haruhi remembers the etiquette involved in letting servants do their work with honor. "Listen," she says in a mild voice, "I appreciate your help but I like to dress myself, no disrespect to you."

"As you wish, Fujioka-sama. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Haruhi purses her mouth to one side. "Actually, there's a gift box in my coat pocket. Could you get that for me, please?"

"I am pleased to help the friend of my Mistress." The maid exits.

Haruhi gradually adds weight to her injured ankle and finds the pain she felt last evening has eased into a mild ache, but she takes the capsules presented and enjoys the brew provided. It's different than the tea Kyoya prefers, but equally flavorful and far less expensive, she's certain. She freshens up in the attached bath, then changes into the provided garments plus her own white shirt, black trousers, Ouran tie, socks and shoes, her wrapped foot just fitting into her loafer. The cardigan Ikue mentioned is on a separate hanger with a note pinned to it. Haruhi unpins the message and reads: "This was Kyoya's in Grade 8, but it should fit. Fuyumi"

The cardigan is of Ouran ilk, pale yellow with the school crest embroidered on the chest. Haruhi can't imagine Kyoya wearing such a thing in private or in public which is probably why is looks brand new. The fact that Fuyumi has the garment in her possession, however, makes her wonder again about Kyoya's mother.

She hobbles to the mirror on the wall to check her appearance. The cardigan is still larger than she, so Haruhi cuffs the sleeves twice and leaves it unbuttoned. She enters the hallway, noting Kyoya's bedroom at the far end of the corridor. Memories of what happened between them the evening prior reignite her emotions and she smiles to herself.

When will I see you again? Today, I hope, though not being in school makes that unlikely. I'll just have to hope you miss me as much as I miss you, Kyoya. Just don't kill the twins before I do. They- Suddenly, she's anxious about what Kyoya might do, even though she's equally annoyed with the gingers. Need phone.

She shuffles into the hallway, hand against the wall as she makes her way to the landing. Passing by an open doorway, she hears Kenshin arguing with Sora.

"This is ugly," the boy says.

"But Ojii-san sent it for you to wear this morning."

I don't care. Jiji-Ootori is no fun. Not like Oji-kyo. Where's Oji-kyo?"

Your uncle is at school, remember? School is important."

"Why?"

"Because that is where they teach you things."

"Oji-kyo teaches me things. Why do I need school?"

"Because Oji-kyo can only teach you some things. Ouran will give you a proper education.

"But I like my un-proper education better," the child announces and Haruhi smiles.

"Please. Ojii-san will be here soon and you must wear his gift so he'll see you're grateful for his generosity. And it's im-proper, not un-proper."

"Why is he coming?"

"To see you, of course."

"But I saw him at his castle. Why is he coming here?"

A pause is heard, then Sora says, "To meet our houseguest."

Houseguest? Is there someone else here I don't know about? Haruhi's brow knits and then her eyes widen. Is she talking about me? Her mouth goes dry. Kyoya's father is coming to meet me? Does Kyoya know about this? Oh, for feng shui. Now I really need my phone.

Haruhi quickens her pace, pausing at the landing that overlooks the living room below. She faces the top of the staircase, assessing how she's to manage the steps without hurting herself or inconveniencing anyone in the household. Black wrought-iron grillwork undulates in open spirals that repeat the length of the descent, but the top rail is wide, burnished oak.

Haruhi reverses herself and grasps the rail, swining her lower body up and over until she's straddling the banister, keeping her wrapped foot on the outside so she can stop herself with her good foot on the inside, if necessary. The first few inches of movement are tentative, but she soon gathers her courage and with both arms grasping the railing just above her head, she leans her chest into it and begins to slide.

Kami-sama, what have I done?

There isn't time to think about stopping as the slick banister speeds her towards her destination faster than she'd like. It's exhilarating, then scary as she remembers there is no post at the bottom to halt her momentum. I'm going to regret thiiiis-

Whump! Haruhi is pressing against a figure. Instinct tells her it's male. Please let it be Shinji. Please let it be Hiroshi. Please let it be Kyoya. But at the sound of the voice, she groans inwardly.

"Seems I've arrived just in time," Yuuichi says.

"Just like Spiderman," she quips, unsure if humor will help the awkward situation or hurt it. He chuckles, but fails to move. "Uhh, Ootori-sensei, I'd appreciate it if you could help me down, please."

"But I rather like this," he replies, his hands grasping her by the waist while doing nothing to move her bottom away from his chest. The hairs on the back of her neck rise.

"Well, I don't. I just need a little help."

"For the second time in as many days, it seems. My bill is mounting, Fujioka-san. Now, place your arm around my neck for support."

Loathe to do it, Haruhi has no choice. Stupid, stupid, stupid me. Her posture is stiff as she follows Yuuichi's directive and eases her injured ankle over the railing. To her surprise, an arm encircles her back and another supports her legs from beneath as she's conveyed from the staircase to the sofa.

"I'm okay, really," she says, refusing to look at him.

She's been carried bridal-style before and neither time made her feel uneasy, but she is now, especially when he fails to set her down. "I can stand on my own two feet, thank you." She looks directly into the first-born Ootori's steely eyes and registers more than professional interest, heightening her discomfiture and inspiring anger. "You do realize I'm 15 years old, right?"

"Your point being?"

"Put me down, now." Her voice is low but her tone is firm as she angles her upper body away from him, eager to separate herself by pushing at him with her hands. He chuckles.

"You're quite adorable."

"And you're being rude, something I didn't think the Ootori family approved of."

He tsks at her once, then complies. "Do you always consider it rude when people of influence assist you? I should think you'd be more grateful. My family can be of significant help to someone like yourself."

Haruhi steps back, altogether vexed. "I'm grateful for your medical care last night, but I prefer assistance without strings attached. I can manage my life on my own."

Yuuichi smirks. "But there are always strings attached, with anything and everything you are given in life. You know that, don't you?"

Before she can answer, Sora and Kenshin are descending the stairs and Yuuichi modifies his demeanor.

"Ohayo, Ootori-sensei," Sora says joining them by the sofa, then bowing. "I didn't realize you were also coming."

"As the first son, I thought I should be here when my father discusses what my younger brother has been up to and how Fujioka-san is involved with," he pauses to look at Haruhi, "our family."

More unpleasant goosebumps rise along Haruhi's arms. Then she notices Kenshin peeking from behind Sora's skirt with wary eyes. So, he doesn't like Yuuichi, either. The littlest Ootori sees Haruhi and smiles. "You're nice," he says.

"Ohayo, Ken-bo," Haruhi says with a smile.

Yuuichi asks, "Kenshin, why are you hiding?"

Sora pushes the boy forward. "Greet your uncle as I taught you."

The boy looks at his kinsman, wrinkles his nose, but steps forward. "Welcome, Oji-yuuichi."

Yuuichi smiles benevolently. "Ah, that's a good boy. Keep up the good work, nanny."

"I am honored to serve your family, sensei."

"Of course."

A servant enters the room. "Ootori-sama has arrived."

Haruhi goes still. I'm about to meet Kyoya's father and without Kyoya here to help me. She closes her eyes. Think like a Host, Haruhi. It's no different. Like hell, it's no different. Her eyes open. This is Ootori-sama, a very important person in Japan. First impressions matter, his oldest son is being creepy, I'm in love with his youngest and I have no idea why he wants to talk to me. She inhales one great breath and releases it as Yuuichi winks at her, then turns to face the corridor.

Ugh.

Ootori Yoshio isn't at all what she expects though what was she expecting, anyway? Certainly not the dapper middle-aged man who enters the room with a dominating air about him. She sees the resemblance to Kyoya though it doesn't ease her anxiety one bit. Yuuichi bows and Haruhi and Sora follow suit. From the corner of her eye, Haruhi notices even Kenshin is mollified in the imposing man's presence. She listens for clues as to how she should approach the elite patriarch by his exchange with his son.

"Ohayo, Father," Yuichi says. "I trust you are well this day."

"Yuuichi, why are you here?"

The younger Ootori is taken aback by the challenge in his father's voice and Haruhi is amused.

"I attended to Kyoya's friend yesterday and thought I would check to see that she's doing well."

"I'm sure she appreciates your concern, but I appreciate you being where you are supposed to be when you're supposed to be there. Fuyumi has given me the details, so you may go."

Yuuichi's smug expression immediately drops into one of submission and Haruhi almost feels sorry for him. Almost. Not so brazen after all, eh? Good.

"Of course. I merely wished-"

"To find out what your brother has been up to, but there's no need. I expect such behavior from Akito but I'm surprised to see you getting involved, especially when the business of the hospital should be your first concern. I'm aware of what Kyoya is doing and with whom he is socializing. The matter is between us alone, do you understand?"

"I- I do not wish to offend."

Yoshio waves him off. "Of course not. You are, as usual, serving the family's interests."

"Always." Yuuichi's tone is plaintive.

"Though I often wonder whose interests the family's interests best serve." Before Yuuichi can answer, Yoshio steps past his son and turns his attention towards Sora and Kenshin.

"And how are you, Sora-san? Taking good care of my grandson?"

"As good as I am able which I hope is pleasing to you."

"His parents are the judge of that. I simply observe and make recommendations. Kenshin," he commands and the boy stands straighter. "How is my grandson today?"

"Fine, Jiji-Ootori."

"Do you like your new sweater?"

For a moment the boy is silent, his eyes darting away and then back. "No."

Yoshio appraises the boy with a sharp eye and a raised brow. "Tell me, what is it about the sweater that displeases you?"

"It's-" The boy pauses, then says, "scratchy."

"Is it?" The patriarch seems annoyed, but hides it with a small smile.

"It is good to express yourself with me, Kenshin, but to expect that life will always be as you wish it to be is foolish. You must learn to bear discomfort without complaint."

The boy nods and although Haruhi doubts he comprehends the full meaning, she realizes the words are being stowed for future reference. Just like Kyoya did when he was small.

"Have the sweater replaced, Sora-san, after he has worn it for one hour. He need not wear it again after that. You may go." The Shido family employee bows and taking Kenshin by the hand, guides him towards the staircase. The boy turns back once to wave good-bye to Haruhi, who wiggles her fingers back at him.

After they're gone, Yoshio turns back to see Yuuichi, who has been waiting for his father to acknowledge him once more. "Why are you still here? I wish to speak to this young woman in private."

"As you wish, Father."

"And Yuuichi?"

"Yes?" A hopeful look appears on the first-born's face.

"There's no need for you to trouble yourself with Fujioka-san further. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Father. Quite clear." Yuuichi bows stiffly and bids them both a good day before leaving. Haruhi breathes a sigh of relief, a newfound respect coloring her opinion of the head of the Ootori family with whom she is now alone in the sun-drenched living room. A servant enters and asks if they wish refreshment.

"I have already had my breakfast, but perhaps Fujioka-san has not, despite the lateness of the hour." The phrase holds a trace of disapproval and Haruhi's nerves return. "I will, however, have coffee and if those are muffins I smell, bring several with whatever compote my daughter has available." That phrase, on the other hand, is decidedly friendlier and Haruhi is too surprised by the mercurial shift to do anything but admit the truth.

"That sounds wonderful, thank you."

The servant leaves and Haruhi puts on her best smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I would introduce myself to you properly but you seem to know who I am already. I apologize for such an informal first meeting but things happen and well, your daughter insisted on my staying." She goes quiet, then, and waits for Yoshio's response.

The patriarch of the Ootori family and head of the Ootori Group zaibatzu lifts his chin and says nothing for several seconds. Then, just as Haruhi thinks she's made some sort of faux pas, he nods and says, "Fuyumi can be hard to put off when she gets an idea into her head. I hope your parents weren't worried."

"My father was aware. He works nights so it was fine and we're both grateful for Ootori-sensei's care. My ankle is much better today."

"I shall be the judge of that. Please take a seat so I may examine it."

Haruhi takes a place on the sofa and lifts her leg until it rests along the cushioned bench. The elder Ootori sits just beyond and unwraps her injured ankle, humming to himself as he does so, taking note of the bruise blooming purple and green to one side. His hands are warm and his touch is gentle, and she's taken aback by the discrepancy between his earlier demeanor and his current actions. Maybe there's more to you than what I've heard. That's true of most people, so why not you?

During the exam, the servant brings food and Haruhi's stomach rumbles, long and loudly. She blushes, but Yoshio doesn't seem to notice. As he rewraps her ankle, she says, "You know, you really didn't have to check on me personally. I'm sure I'll be able to get around just fine by tomorrow."

"Yes, but be careful until all lividity is gone. Traveling clots can still pose a danger. You wouldn't want to miss more school than necessary."

"No, sir. I can't afford that."

"Not as a 1st-year honor student at Ouran Academy on scholarship."

"You know about that?"

"And that you must remain at the top of your class in order to keep that scholarship."

"Yes, but-"

"That must require a great deal of study time."

"It does."

Yoshio secures the bandage and looks up. "Then why, may I ask, were you ice skating on a school night?"

Haruhi is stunned by his knowledge. If he knows all that, how much more does he know? About Host Club? About Kyoya and me? About my father?

She ponders this in a matter of seconds, then grows serious. "It was somewhat irresponsible, but how was I to know that the gracious lady offering to share a cab with me last night was your daughter and Kyoya-senpai's sister? You can imagine how surprised it all was to me and how rude it would have been to refuse her invitation to dinner and entertainment."

Yoshio regards her steadily without responding, so she adds, "The ice skating was wonderful until it wasn't, of course, and I was lucky enough to be with someone who comes from a family full of doctors. At least I had a chance to see Fuyumi-sama skate. I heard all about her career and how you encouraged her so don't deny it. You must be very proud."

Yoshio's stern visage softens at the mention of his daughter's name. "I am proud of all of my children, Fujioka-san, even when they do not follow my instructions."

"Even Kyoya-senpai?" The words are out before she can recall them.

Great.

End - Chapter 54 - Head of the Table


Head of the Table - Joan Armatrading [Haruhi-centric]

Caught this bit of news
From unexpected quarters.
You - in your close-knit family -
Who says what you should be after?
Don't you know what you should be after
Unless you consult the head of the table?
The head of the table
He's stern and strong.

Caught this bit of news
From unexpected quarters.
Such a close-knit family
Keeps you on the straight and narrow.
You find that you're unable
To do what you want.
The head of the table
He's stern and strong.

So run along, little boy, run along.
The head of the table would bend
If you're able to prove that you're right
And he's wrong.