"Remind me again what we're doing here." Mei deadpanned, looping her arm through Haruhi's.
"I told you, Kasanoda invited me to his game night. You better be polite, Mei. He's my friend, and he was nice enough to let you come so last minute."
While it wasn't exactly a lie, Haruhi did fail to mention that Kasanoda had originally invited her and Kyoya. Only (according to his rather exasperated texts) he had been roped into a charity gala being held later that evening, and had subsequently been under house arrest since the wee hours of the morning, making her meticulous planning of the day rather redundant.
(Fuyumi proved herself to be an angel that was truly heaven set when she provided pictures of a disgruntled and very confused Kyoya dangling over Tachibana's shoulder after he had tried and failed to leave).
It was then and there Kyoya had remembered that, despite her outwardly friendly demeanour, his sister… was kind of an asshole. Deliberately failing to mention the teeny tiny fact that he was instructed to stay home, or be tossed around like a sack of potatoes was right up her alley of mischief.
With a shiver, Haruhi herself vowed to never get on Fuyumi's bad side.
"Yeah, yeah." Mei replied, dismissively. "I'll be good, I promise."
"You said that last time." Haruhi deadpanned, feeling herself sweatdrop. "And then you spent half the night fighting with Kyoya-senpai."
The blonde considered this for a moment, her denials fading out before she could even voice them. With a pout, she grumbled under her breath. "He started it."
Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Haruhi led the way into the compound, exchanging friendly waves with a few familiar faces. Purposeful steps slowed into a hesitant crawl as Haruhi realised she knew fuck all about where they were supposed to go. Luckily, it was at that point that they bumped into a rather rumpled Tetsuya.
Dirt smudged across his nose, he blinked, recognition flooding his features. "Haruhi-kun, you're here! We didn't expect you to arrive this early."
"Obviously." Nose wrinkled, Mei took in his dishevelled appearance.
Unperturbed, he switched his smile to Mei, and with reluctance on her part, they shook hands, Tetsuya introducing himself in the same easy-going manner that Haruhi was accustomed to. Still, there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as Mei rubbed her palm clean on her jeans, apparently under the impression that she was being subtle.
Spoiler: she really wasn't.
"The Young Lord is in the garden. I can take you to him, if you'd like?"
"That would be great, thanks, Tetsuya." Genially, he began leading them through the maze of activity, nodding to anyone he passed. The girls followed just a step behind, heads cycling this way and that as they took in the sights. "Whoa… This place is a lot bigger than I thought. How many buildings are there?"
"A fair few." He offered, absently gesturing to a second-story house with a more western design. "Though the majority are used simply for accommodation, like this one. Many of us live here with our families, so there has to be a lot of space."
"I see." Haruhi mused, with interest. "It's pretty cool. You have your own community here."
Head tilted in thought, he allowed a small shrug. "I suppose you could call it that." Eyes brightened, he led them through a courtyard, and then behind a square of buildings, falling back on his ass as he walked smack bang into the redhead he had been attempting to locate.
Sparing a moment to quite literally lift his blushing friend to his feet and assess his condition, Kasanoda latched onto Haruhi's arm, already babbling a mile a minute as he towed her towards the garden with all the eagerness of a child on Christmas. A sulking Mei followed closely behind, with Tetsuya bringing up the rear.
It was like walking straight into a fairy tale.
Low lit by warm, cosy lanterns, the plants unfolded before her eyes, most a rich shade of orange and gold as they darkened in the Autumn air. A small breeze played with her hair, the urgent whisper carrying across the space, creating a conversation between every leaf, branch and blade of grass.
"It's still under development," Kasanoda explained, parting some tendrils as they ducked past a weathered old willow tree. (If those branches happened to slap Mei in the face, nobody really noticed… Except Tetsuya, who had to bow ahead to smother his laughter). "But I think it's looking pretty good so far."
"No kidding," She replied, suitably awed, sparing merely a moment to test her weight on the wooden bridge. "It's amazing." Kasanoda, on the other hand, showed no sign of caution, only pausing in the middle of the arc to catch the back of Tetsuya's shirt as he clambered onto the railing and leaned over a little too far for comfort.
Throwing a thankful smile back at his friend, Tetsuya discreetly pointed below, to where some koi fish were circling lazily beneath them. "The lights are working well. You can see the fish so clearly."
The pond was large, spacious, and definitely deep enough to hide a body. She'd file that away for the next time Tamaki or the twins tested her nerves. Lily pads adorned the surface, promising flowers when in season, while several more pond-dwelling creatures and plants alike made their home both around and inside the water, fish flitting about in the dying light.
They spent quite a while exploring, Kasanoda proudly showing off the greenhouse, and the herb garden, but mostly his own friend. Several times Kasanoda had captured the easily flustered boy as Tetsuya attempted to become one with the undergrowth to escape the praise being lavished upon him for his remarkably creative insight.
Eventually they piled on a bench to take a break, huddling together for warmth, narrowing down a game to play.
Which went just as well as expected, really.
"We're not playing Cards Against Humanity because Tetsuya always wins."
"I don't always win." He protested quietly, and was startled into silence when Kasanoda swung around to face him, red hair fluttering wildly in the wind behind him.
"What would grandma find disturbing, yet strangely charming?" the redhead recited, watching with satisfaction as Tetsuya sunk behind his hands, flushing red all the way up to the tips of his ears.
"... Necrophilia."
Kasanoda's hands swept towards his friend in exasperation.
Mei nodded sagely. "I see what you mean."
Suitably embarrassed, the boy hid his face in the only available cover, (that being Kasanoda's shoulder), for the next few minutes, essentially sealing their fate when Mei decided to take over and give them all makeovers, producing a bag full of supplies from apparent thin air.
To their credit, both men didn't actually complain.
Surprising, considering the damage the Host Club had done to Kasanoda's reputation the last time he allowed someone to give him a makeover.
Settled down in a warm, cosy room, Haruhi observed the way Tetsuya coated each nail in varnish, lips pursed in a vague pout as he concentrated.
"You're good at this." She murmured, staring mournfully down at the smudges on her hands, the last traces of her failed attempt scrubbed hastily away.
Brush stilling, he glanced up, expression somewhat sheepish. Still, she could see the glow of pride in his eyes, and it brought a smile to her own face. "I like to paint," He explained, and suddenly his amazingly steady hand made a lot more sense. "Though I suppose I enjoy anything where I can be creative. There's a sitting room in the south building that's rarely used, I keep all my supplies in there. It's so easy for the hours to slip by without me noticing. Sometimes the young master will sit and watch as well, though I have a feeling it's mostly to make sure I remember to eat. In a way, this is just like painting, only with a much smaller canvas."
His gaze flickered to her nails, and then back up, hesitance creeping into his tone. "I can do yours after, if you'd like."
"That'd be great, thanks." There's no doubt Mei would scold her if she ended up being the only one without them done. Even Kasanoda was begrudgingly allowing her friend to paint his toenails a strikingly bright red.
"Pick out the colour you'd like. I'll start once mine are dry, so I don't smudge them."
She decided on what she thought was a nice nude shade. With the most contemptuous, judging look she had ever seen from the boy, Tetsuya tossed the trash to the side where it belonged (resolutely ignoring the loud crash from over his shoulder) and chose a lovely turquoise. Unsure whether to be insulted or amused, Haruhi meekly extended her hand and allowed him to get to work.
"What have you been doing to your hair?"
Mei's shriek petered off into an unholy screech, shaking hands gripping Kasanoda's head tightly. The boy in question was more than a little alarmed, and likely on the brink of checking whether his eardrums had exploded. "Do you even condition this? When was the last time you had it cut? It's a mess! I've never seen so many split ends in my life! Do you ever bother to brush it?"
Without even giving him time to reply, she procured a comb to work out his knots, attacking them with such vicious force that he released a 'manly' yelp and scrambled to hide behind Haruhi and Tetsuya, the latter of which barely even glanced up.
"Do not jog me." Tetsuya warned, tongue peeking out as he concentrated. Something about the air shifted, a promise of death that had both Kasanoda and Mei immediately backing down, lest they opened the figurative and possibly quite literal Pandora's Box of Tetsuya's wrath.
Still, it didn't stop Mei from lecturing the redhead for the next fifteen minutes on how to properly take care of his hair, which ended with her placidly twisting it up into an elegant, yet artfully messy bun, irritation apparently vented from her system.
After returning the favour in a less than stellar braid, which, surprisingly, she didn't immediately take out to fix, he turned to Tetsuya, the only other member with hair long enough to actually have fun styling.
And shut up, because he totally, absolutely, most definitely wasn't blushing as Kasanoda ran his fingers through browned locks, gently beginning to braid it.
"You're doing it wrong." Mei observed, with mounting impatience. "Move over, let me show you"
"Back off." He growled, using a foot to keep her a good distance away. Tetsuya— mostly tethered to his position by an unknowing Kasanoda— shrank out of the line of fire as much as possible, hoping to avoid any potentially flying objects, or fists, for that matter. "I can do it. Just sit down and let me work, goddamnit!"
She did, crossing her arms over her chest with a loud huff.
"And stop that muttering. It's distracting."
Haruhi distracted her with a game of Irish Snap, which quickly turned deadly with their newly manicured nails. They called it quits after Tetsuya received a deadly triple combination and a paper thin yet still smarting cut across the back of his hand, courtesy of a stray nail, sharpened to that of a knife's edge.
In the end, the boys flaunted their fabulous updos and sparkling nails without shame, and Haruhi found that she had laughed a lot more than she had in weeks.
God, she'd needed this.
This release, this escape from all the chaos in her fucked-up life. Even if it had been for a mere couple of hours, she'd finally been given the chance to be normal. To be the teenager she actually was. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to feel truly free. To laugh, and joke, and to simply exist for the sheer sake of existing.
Those hours, few as they may be, had allowed her to shed the shawl of fear and anxiety she'd carried on stiff, tired shoulders. It halted the nervous backwards glances and twitching leg altogether, and the twisting ball in her stomach had settled into soft tranquillity.
For the first time in a while, she felt whole.
Upon returning home, she wordlessly stepped into her father's arms and let time slip by. He was more than happy to oblige, holding her in one of his signature, tender bear hugs, that was all hair and cologne and safety. Taking comfort in the warmth, she thanked every deity she knew (and a few she made up on the spot) for letting her have such wonderful people in her life, and thanked that god-awful vase for triggering a whole new wave of experiences, good and bad.
Contentment seeping into her very soul, she ate the (miraculously edible) dinner her father had managed to whip up in her absence.
But all too soon that moment of peace was shattered.
A key rattled in the lock.
With a loud, teeth-rattling clatter, Haruhi's cutlery fell from her hands.
Her father was already home.
Tensing, Haruhi scrambled to grab the nearest object that could potentially cause a lot of harm, and straightened up with a thermos flask clasped in her hand. It wasn't necessarily the best choice, but…
Yeah, but nothing. The fallout of that situation would result in her being well and truly stabbed, with Takeda laughing at her piece of crap weapon.
The handle turned.
Her heart stopped.
Then a familiar head of black hair met her eyes as Kyoya ducked in through the door, quietly removing his shoes and setting them aside.
"Oh." She said, eyeing him up and down, the wariness leaving her features. "It's just you."
Surprised, he glanced over, venturing further into the apartment only after she'd discarded the projectile appropriately, lest she decided it really was better off smashing his skull in. "Just me," He confirmed evenly, craning his head around to try and catch a glimpse of the redhead. "Did your father not tell you I was coming?"
Considering Haruhi had been 210 percent prepared to take his head off less than ten seconds ago, she was pretty sure they both knew the answer to that question. "What do you think?"
They dissolved into a tense silence. Kyoya distracted himself by loosening his tie, and Haruhi pretended to be utterly engrossed with her food, when in reality she was watching him. The smoothness of his movements, how deftly he turned his keys over in his hand before pocketing them.
The way he insistently avoided eye contact with her.
"You look nice."
She wasn't really sure why she said it.
Maybe it was because Tamaki's words were ringing in her ears once again, as they had been for quite a while, repeating like a broken record, and standing as a harsh reminder of all that they risked losing. Or maybe it was because Kyoya was still killing time, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows for no reason other than to delay more strained interactions— and she just wanted him to Look. At. Her.
Lately he acted as though even catching her gaze was a crime.
There were a lot of things Haruhi could handle, and that certainly wasn't one of them. Neither was the way that boy glanced up, lips pursed in a way that was both confused and slightly alarmed at the same time.
Nice was an understatement, and they both knew it. Kyoya was dressed to the nines in a three piece suit, hair combed neatly, far from the tousled mess she'd become accustomed to. Still, even if she had to squint to see it, she was almost certain he brightened up a little, features hardened with hesitance blurring into something much softer.
"Thank you."
This was fine.
It was a start, at least. Now all she had to do was converse like a normal human being. Sounds easy enough. "Your party… gala... event thing. Was it good?"
Nailed it.
His hint of suspicion was replaced by surprise. Guard lowering somewhat, his air of stiff politeness relaxed into one of familiar ease. "Good wouldn't exactly be the right word to describe it." He smothered a tired yawn, absently wiping the moisture from his eyes. Damn him, that suit really did bring out the colour in them. "Exhausting, more like."
Interest piqued, she cocked her head. "I thought you liked them?"
"Far from it." His nose was all wrinkled up, displeasure clearly evident. "Amateur events like those are, for lack of a better term, a glorified dick measuring contest for wannabes with too much time on their hands, and more wealth than they know what to do with." He dragged a lazy hand through his hair. "I suppose the one silver lining is that they do allow an opportunity for possible business ventures. Aside from that, I find them rather pointless."
"Then why do you go? It seems to me like it's more trouble than it's worth."
"Naturally, to keep up appearances."
Frowning, she mulled this over, a little scowl rising on her face when she noticed his amusement. Eventually, she sighed, flashing him a small, resigned smile. "I don't think I'm ever going to get you."
Finally taking a seat opposite her, he flicked his eyebrows up in challenge. "Likewise." In the silence that descended, he rolled out his back, body arching as he stretched up as high as he could go, only relaxing after a satisfying click. Blinking, he met her gaze questioningly, and she belatedly realised she'd be staring.
Looking away, he stumbled along the first line of topic he could think of. "How was Kasanoda's?"
"It was awesome!" She enthused, feeling the joy swell in her chest once more. "You should've seen the garden— it was so beautiful. It'll look even better once all the flowers are in bloom. Kasanoda was so proud of it, I was honestly really impressed with how well it turned out."
Chin propped up on his palm, his eyes misted over with something akin to fondness. "Is that so?"
"And get this— they've got all kinds of herbs and fruit growing in the greenhouse— Kasanoda promised to give me some once they're ready. Fresh fruit always tastes the best, you know?"
Kyoya was staring at her quizzically, likely pondering whether or not it was worthwhile mentioning how easily he could supply the selfsame thing. Those rich bastards wouldn't hesitate to bury her in riches if she gave them the chance. Still, tapping her finger against her chin, she considered him thoughtfully. Then, with a decisive nod of her head, she continued. "But, knowing you, I think you'd probably like the koi pond the most. There's a little wooden bridge that arcs over the water, and it's all lit up by lanterns. It's also a bit more secluded, so it'd be perfect for you and your brooding."
"I don't brood," He protested, light-heartedly. "I contemplate."
She arched a brow, but her returning jab was drowned out by Ranka's sharp squeal.
The redheaded man swept out of his room no less energetic than usual, his long hair rumpled from sleep. "Kyoya-kun, look at you! You look positively dashing in that suit, I'm so proud! Haruhi, we must take pictures at once to commemorate this occasion!"
With an indulgent smile, Kyoya allowed the older man to link their arms together, hands resting in his trouser pockets, obediently remaining still for the photo. Or, well, photos. Haruhi herself wasn't even trying to hide how much she was rolling her eyes, which only made him smile harder.
Ranka cycled through a couple of poses, before throwing out an energetic peace sign. He beamed over at the boy, but his grin wilted into a childish pout when he noticed his companion's lack of enthusiasm. "Kyoya-kun, come on."
Kyoya would later claim that he'd tried to resist… and it would be a fatass lie. All it took was that single pout for Kyoya to resign to his fate, and throw up a weary peace sign of his own, lips quirking when Haruhi snorted into the back of her hand. Eventually she was dragged into the chaos as well, and they ended up trying to squish into a selfie, which was considerably more difficult to execute than it was entitled to be, owing to the fact that Haruhi was rather vertically challenged.
"Haruhi appears to be missing half of her head in these photos." Kyoya, ever the observant one, deadpanned, as Ranka flipped through his gallery.
"Yes, that is quite a problem." Her father agreed, with a serious nod of his head. "Why are you so short, Haruhi?"
She could most definitely feel the throb of a vein at her temple. "I'm sorry if my height inconveniences you."
"No matter, we will make this work!"
And… somehow, they did. (That somehow being that Haruhi was press ganged into standing on the table, leaving her about level with Kyoya's shoulder, and at perfect selfie height).
After a few more minutes of gushing and squeeing, Ranka returned to bed, leaving two considerably more exhausted teens in his wake.
Picking up the dishes, Haruhi decided that a moment was in order to resolve her nerves. "I'm going to go wash these. Try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone. And if you're going to stay over, you'll be able to set up the futon, right? If not, I'll help you once I'm done."
"I'll do it." He interrupted, gently taking them from her hands, and disappearing into the kitchen despite her protests. After a beat, he poked his head back out, eyes narrowed into a glare that held no heat. "Don't even think about touching that futon." With that vaguely ominous threat, she was left to her own musings.
Unfortunately for her, his actions had merely left her with more to mull over.
Now was as good as any to talk with him.
Ignoring the slightly rocky areas, the stormy atmosphere was beginning to clear up. From where he had been distant, bordering on cold, he was smiling once again— warmth returning to his features.
Yes. It was certainly time to put everything behind them.
From the next room, a loud cacophony of noise sounded, intermingled with Kyoya's fervent cursing. Concerned, she threw the door open to find him standing in a war zone, glass and the remnants of a ceramic plate littering the floor around his feet. From where he had been surveying the damage with wide eyes, his body tensed, guilty gaze flickering up from the mess, to her, in all her stunned glory. "I can fix it."
Finally regaining the power of movement, Haruhi leant against the doorframe, arms crossed. There was a twinge of amusement slipping through her otherwise cool facade. "How exactly do you expect to do that? It's completely smashed, senpai."
"I can fix it." He insisted, confidence wavering.
Haruhi shook her head.
"Don't move." She warned, clambering onto the counter and crawling along the length of the room in a way that was far too casual for this to be the first time. Evidently trying to give him a heart attack, she hung over the edge and pulled a cabinet door open, retrieving a dustpan and brush, before rising once more— far less gracefully and with a fair amount of flailing.
Most likely, he was wondering whether or not she'd throw something at him if he laughed.
Gingerly, she slid off the counter, the pads of her feet making no sound as they touched the floor. Sneaking a peek up at him, an audible sigh escaped her lips. Why did he have that kicked-puppy look perfected? She hadn't even scolded him and yet she felt guilty. "It's fine, senpai. It was an accident. We're not so poor that we can't replace a couple of plates, you know."
He nodded, but didn't speak, and she had the impression that it would be rather hard to around the lump in his throat. Still, he'd trapped himself in this cage of broken things— it allowed the perfect opportunity to finally speak to him. As with everything, all her rehearsed lines immediately danced to the farthest corners of her memory, leaving her floundering quite helplessly for something to say.
"I'm sorry."
That… wasn't her.
Her head snapped up, and Kyoya was steadily meeting her gaze.
"I'm sorry," He repeated, sincerely.
"Shut up." She didn't raise her voice, but even then it was like whiplash. Hurt flashed across his face, and for a moment he was unguarded and so, so vulnerable. And then the walls snapped back in place and he retreated behind an air of indifference. "Don't steal the spotlight from me, I've been rehearsing this way too long for you to steal my thunder."
Confusion crept in, displayed in the twitch of his mouth, and crease between his brows.
Eyes blazing, she met him fearlessly. "I'm sorry."
Almost immediately he was opening his mouth to interject, but she hushed him with a surprising sharpness, sweeping at the shards more vigorously. "Don't, senpai. Asking you to keep it a secret like I did put too much pressure on you, and that wasn't fair of me. I just didn't want people to get hurt because of me, but that ended up happening anyway."
Sheepish, her hand reached up to scratch the back of her neck. "I guess I kinda messed up there, huh?"
"That wasn't your fault."
Ah. So he did know what she meant.
"It wasn't yours either." Haruhi replied, kindly. "I admit I may have reacted badly when you finally started telling me… well, telling us the whole truth. And it was smart to get the others involved, so you did the right thing there. But senpai, you're not protecting me by hiding how much danger I'm in, you know that, right?" A short nod. He didn't trust himself to speak. "Look, I never expected or wanted you to take everything on by yourself. I'm just asking for you to rely on me. And I know that's hard for you, Tamaki-senpai said you grew up in an environment where that wasn't possible, but I'm right here. I can help, if you'd let me."
He worked his way around the tightness in his throat, the calm façade cracking just a bit. "What else did Tamaki say?"
"That you floored him the other day." She said, airily, as though she were commenting on the weather. "He came up too suddenly from behind, and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground with your knee in his back."
There was a hitch in his breathing that she pretended not to notice. Brush stilling, she tipped her head up towards him, sternly. "It's alright to still be shaken up. You were assaulted, for god's sake, and… maybe more. I know you haven't told us everything, so know that I'll always listen if you ever need to. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
A wan smile tugged at his lips, full of self-deprecation. "I was a naïve little child, Haruhi. I actually managed to kid myself into believing a couple of months of self-defence would be enough, and got a face full of wall for my trouble."
She could hear it, in the way his eyes couldn't settle on her. The clench of his fists, and tightness of his jaw.
If I can't protect myself, how can I hope to protect you?
"We'll figure it out." She assured, with confidence she was unaware that she possessed. Yet it felt so natural, so right. "We always do. Hopefully this time, we'll do it together?"
Brushing the last bit of glass into the dustpan, she straightened up, and caught the tail end of Kyoya's smile.
"Together?" She could have been mistaken, but she was almost certain there was something akin to fondness in his eyes. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."
A/N: This chapter is late because of who I am as a person. Which is half accurate, really. My body decided it was going to go and snatch up a stomach bug Friday evening, which ate up practically all my time over the weekend. Such fun. Remind me next time to get a receipt so I can return the illness
Thank you for everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed, they all really make my day! (Also, fear not, anon, every vine reference is completely intentional because I am trash and am proud of it)
I'm not sure how effective my profile-alert for the update schedule was, but I'll keep it up anyway, for convenience's sake
Finally these two nerds have made up, but hey, the kids have gotta fuck up sometimes, otherwise they're nothing more than robots, amirite? (Plus having them fight breaks my heart, but that's a minor detail)
I'm super pumped for the next update, so buckle your seatbelts and grab those oxygen masks, because things are about to get wild