Kyoya, Haruhi found, was a heck of a lot more like a cat than she'd first deduced.

Distrustful and wary of strangers, Kyoya maintained a façade of practised aloofness, keeping everyone outside his protective walls until he judged them safe. Befriending him, realising his defences have slowly, noticeably lowered— it was galaxies colliding, birthing whole new worlds of happiness.

As part of his ongoing transformation into his final Cat-Hybrid form, Kyoya had been napping a whole lot more than he used to.

Haruhi found it a strange mix of worrying and relieving. Because sure, it meant that Kyoya was pushing himself too hard when she wasn't around to keep an eye on him, but it also meant she could be certain he was at least getting some sleep. In any case, she couldn't help but feel mildly touched that Kyoya trusted her enough to leave himself so openly vulnerable in her presence.

Tamaki was also one of the few people he trusted like this.

Considering they were best friends— no matter how strange or unconventional that friendship was— this didn't surprise her.

Though at first, she couldn't quite understand the dynamics between Tamaki and Kyoya.

Tamaki was loud, highly chaotic and far too energetic to be humanly possible. He exploded into Kyoya's life without warning, bringing with him a flurry of noise and activity that she figured would be overwhelming for Kyoya.

But.

And there was a large, glaring, neon-outlined BUT.

That BUT was that Tamaki understood Kyoya to mind-boggling degrees.

Somehow, with almost telepathic ease, he could read Kyoya's mind much like someone would with a novel.

Just the other day, she'd witnessed what she was almost certain was either a miracle, or poorly disguised witchcraft. She and Kyoya had been relaxing by themselves when Tamaki had burst through the door like a hurricane, as he usually did. Only, rather unusually, it took a mere glance at the bespectacled boy for Tamaki to divert what had been a trainwreck destined directly for Kyoya's open lap, elsewhere. Instead, Tamaki picked a nice spot of carpet to sprawl out on, occupying himself with his phone.

Ten minutes later, Kyoya had joined him on the floor of his own free will.

Neither boy spoke a word to each other, they just existed within the same five foot radius, content to focus on their own tasks.

Haruhi had discreetly gaped at them the entire time.

For now, Kyoya was tucked up on the couch, Noel dozing contely on his chest. His arms were lax around the kitten, a protective cradle that was heartbreakingly adorable.

Thinking back to how he'd called her in the middle of the night, trying and failing to hide how pleased he was that he'd been allowed to keep Noel still brought a smile to her face. He'd pack-bonded with the kitten faster than she could blink, and clearly adored Noel with every fibre of his being.

Despite however much his aloof ass tried to deny it.

With a fond shake of her head, Haruhi prised a book from his hand before it could fully slip from his grasp, marking the page with a nearby leaflet.

For good measure, she snapped a picture of him and his attached limpet, and sent it to Tachibana.

He replied with three lines of laughing faces, and a promise to mount the image in an obnoxiously large frame to embarrass the boy. A few minutes later, Fuyumi texted her to squeal over how precious her baby brother was, and to implore her to continue doing God's work.

Evidently Tachibana had forwarded her the picture.

Kyoya, she knew, would murder her if he ever found out.

Good thing she was totally prepared to throw both adults under the bus at a moment's notice. She rather liked to continue breathing, thank you very much.

He stirred as she tucked a nearby blanket around him, but didn't wake. Kyoya merely settled more deeply into the couch, shoulders heaving a content sigh.

While he was busy off in dreamland, Haruhi removed a newly-awakened Noel from his chest, and retreated into the next room over to put a discarded feather toy to good use. Noel dived and leaped to and fro with reckless abandon, knocking into all manner of furnishings and forcing Haruhi to hastily smother her laughter.

When Kyoya finally woke, it was a drawn out affair, with long stretches and sleepy yawns.

By that time, Haruhi was back behind the table, Noel sprawled contently in her lap, purring softly under her careful ministrations.

"Hey." She greeted, absently.

"Hey," He mumbled back, drowsily rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Her chin came to rest on her hand, unable to hold back her grin. "You've got really bad bed-hair."

Kyoya absently teased the fluffy mess, eyes still bleary and hazed from sleep.

After splashing water on his face, and stretching some more, he was significantly active enough for normal human interaction, and began to peruse her bookcase. She left him to his devices, reading the book that was originally his, the marker still soundly in place for when he decided to return to it.

"What's this?" Kyoya asked curiously, breaking the comfortable silence by putting a magazine down on the table.

"That, my dear friend, is a magazine." She lectured obnoxiously, not bothering to look up from her novel. "I don't suppose you get them up in Rich Land."

Kyoya rolled his eyes, pushing it directly under her nose. "I'm not an idiot. I was referring to this," His finger jabbed against the paper. "And could you really not think of a more creative name? I'm disappointed in you."

"Oh be quiet," She said humorously, eyes scanning the text. "Hm, Twenty Questions? It's a party game. You take it in turns to ask each other questions, it's supposed to help you develop a deeper understanding of that person, I guess? Like, I could ask you, I don't know, what's your favourite colour?"

He wrinkled his nose, disdain clearly evident. "Trivial."

"It's just an example, senpai. Obviously they're normally a little more provoking than that."

He snorted, flicking a further couple of pages with mild interest. "You wasted your money on this?"

"That's not mine. I'm not interested in those kinds of things." She replied, scratching underneath Noel's chin. "Mei left it behind when she dropped by last week."

Evidently Kyoya had less than fond memories of that encounter, if his narrowed eyes were anything to go by. He and Mei seemed to just rub each other the wrong way on principle. It didn't help that Mei had decided to be extra clingy that day, glowering at the boy whenever he was in the vicinity. (Of course Kyoya's glare could rival even the coldest of Arctic days, leading to many long, awkward silences and a rather large headache for Haruhi).

Haruhi was about to return to her book, but a piercing gaze caught her off-guard. He studied her intently for a couple of seconds with the kind of intensity that would be agonising for a third party to bear witness to, appearing to be debating with himself.

"It's brown." He said, eventually.

"Sorry?"

"My favourite colour."

She took a couple of seconds to register this. By that time, he'd quietly sat down, legs crossed neatly underneath him. "I believe it's my turn now, correct?" After receiving a wordless nod, he continued. "Then… What's your favourite memory?"

"I'm sensing a pattern here." Haruhi deadpanned, and was quickly shushed by the boy. "Fine, I'll play ball. Ah, what to say? If I have to think, then… Cooking with my mother. When I was younger, she would teach me to cook on the weekends and after work."

He looked somewhat uncertain, as though worried they'd stumbled on dangerous territory. Haruhi smiled reassuringly back, gently squishing Noel's little paws.

Kyoya, after being ravaged by the aforementioned paws several times before, kept a considerable distance away as she danced with the devil.

"I loved spending time with her, she was always so patient and understanding, I learned a lot of what I know today from her. We'd practise by making meals for my dad— I was terrible when I started out, but he'd always eat it anyway, no matter how burnt or inedible. Always said it was the best food he'd ever tasted. So, I guess that kind of stuck with me? It makes me smile, even now."

Fondness dusted her smile, doe eyes clouded with reminiscence.

Kyoya shifted, breaking the spell. "She sounds like an amazing woman, Haruhi. It's a shame I never was able to meet her."

"I think she would've liked you." Haruhi said, lightly. "The others, too."

"Even Tamaki?"

"Especially Tamaki-senpai. He's a bit of an idiot, but he would've reminded her of dad."

His gaze drifted just over her shoulder. Haruhi followed his line of sight to the shrine, her heart swelling at the soft, subtle quirk of his lips. When she faced him once more, his hands were clasped together, eyes closed in a silent prayer.

Why, she thought to herself, with a mix of confusion and utter fondness, why do you hide this side of yourself?

No— not even a side of him.

This was Kyoya, pure and unapologetically being him. Compassionate and kind and thoughtful, sending his respects to a long-dead woman that he admired. Grudgingly, or so he claimed, allowing himself to be pulled into group hugs that he not-so-secretly loved. Being the softest, most doting father on the planet to little Noel, even if she was a clumsy, tiny ball of energy.

That was the real Kyoya, through and through.

Speaking of Kyoya, he was staring expectantly at her, eyes big, big, and entirely too soft. "I guess it's my turn now." She said, watching his head bob in a little nod. "Well, then…. Have you ever broken a bone?"

"Yes." He absently traced the table with a lazy finger, moving so his chin rested against his palm. "When I was fourteen, I think. I broke my arm."

Wait what—

"How?"

"One question per turn." He reminded, tapping the rules. She pouted, but didn't bother to dispute that. Her protests would be in vain and she knew it. "What's an example of something you're self-conscious of?"

Her eyebrows receded into her hairline. "Damn, you're stepping up your game."

"The point of the game is to learn about your partner, isn't it?"

Noel mewled and insistently pushed her head into the girl's hand. With a smile, she stroked her soft fur, eliciting a low, rumbling purr. "My fear of thunder."

The silence between them was filled with every word left unspoken. Maybe it was just his intense gaze alone that told her she had nothing to be ashamed of, for she smiled wider, head tilting to the side.

"How did you break your arm?"

Kyoya tapped a finger against the table, considering. "You're not going to believe me."

"Try me." She challenged.

He was clearly trying not to laugh. Haruhi wasn't sure whether to be amused or concerned. Evidently she had missed the memo where extreme bodily injuries had become hilarious. "I fell out of a tree."

"You what?" She echoed, incredulously.

"I fell out of a tree." Kyoya repeated, really grinning now. He was dead serious. Haruhi felt her jaw drop open in disbelief. "It was Tamaki's idea, of course. He claimed he'd seen some kids go tree-climbing in one of those silly teen movies. He was utterly enamoured with them, for some strange reason. I didn't see the appeal— I still don't, actually— but he begged and begged, and you know how he gets—"

"He gave you those puppy dog eyes, and you couldn't refuse?"

Haruhi fought back a shudder. She'd been on the receiving end of those very same eyes far too many times to count. Tamaki's baby blues were a force to be reckoned with. They could almost be classified as a weapon themselves, with how deadly they were.

Those eyes of his could sway minds and claim hearts from fifty feet away.

Kyoya appeared to be going through the exact same mental crisis, if his expression was anything to go by.

"He did indeed. It took him a week to find the so-called Perfect Tree. Dragged me out at some ridiculous hour in the goddamn middle of winter to climb it. We did actually manage to get pretty high, and about three quarters of the way up, we took a break."

Haruhi could already sense where this was going.

Kyoya sighed, the sound heavy with regret. "It was entirely my mistake, I really should have been paying attention. The branch was too weak, and it broke right out from underneath me. I fell… fifteen, maybe twenty foot? It's actually rather lucky that I only broke my arm. If I'd landed differently, a fall like that would have been enough to kill me."

Undeterred, or otherwise unbothered by her shock, he caught the hem of his shirt and raised it, fingers poking and prodding at his skin. "They're not all too visible anymore, but I do have a few scars from it." Haruhi leaned closer, squinting at the few silvery, jagged lines across his hip. They were so faint that from far away, she could barely even notice them. "I imagine I was quite a sight, lying there in the mud, covered in my own blood. It's a miracle Tamaki didn't pass out right there and then."

"No kidding. What happened after?"

"Tamaki called Tachibana and they took me to the nearest hospital. I had a cast on within two hours." Kyoya softened, fingers absently smoothing out the creases in his shirt. "Apparently the moment I was out of sight, that idiot burst into tears."

Haruhi could hardly say she was surprised.

Kyoya wasn't the only idiot that tended to internalise his feelings.

"Of course he did." She shook her head, lightly. "And I imagine he felt really guilty about you getting hurt, too. That's just the kind of person Tamaki-senpai is."

"That's not even the half of it. Let's just say the experience was utter Hell, and I'd never wish it upon even my worst enemies." With a fond roll of his eyes, he stretched out his back. "Now, my turn. What do you hope your last words will be?"

Her following laugh was alight with joy. "Normally I'd say some profound spiel that makes you question life itself, but you and I know that's never going to happen. I'd like to hope they'll be meaningful for my family, but knowing me, it'll probably be 'well, that's not ideal' right before I die."

"That sounds like you. Frustrating everyone around you, even on your deathbed."

She threateningly held up a nearby pillow, and he raised his hands in surrender, pretending to cower until she dropped it once more. With speed that should be illegal, he then whipped the pillow behind him, where it could no longer be used as a projectile destined for his face.

Haruhi gaped at him, betrayed.

She was going to avenge her stolen pillow even if it killed her, and it likely would.

"When do you truly feel alive?" She asked, seriously.

Her eyes sliced past his defences, somehow managing to see right into his very soul, god forbid he even have one.

"When I'm not forced to pretend to be someone I'm not."

And yeah, the look in his eyes sent every sane part of her mind running, because he was out for revenge. She should set herself on fire now, end it on her terms, with some dignity still left intact. But it's too late. Haruhi was a single minded force of nature and bad decision making, and she would see this battle through to the end, goddamn it.

"What lie do you tell most often?"

All her determination was steamrolled by instant regret. Of all the questions he could ask, she had not been expecting that.

Still, she would answer truthfully, if only because Kyoya deserved the truth. "I'm okay."

He appraised her thoughtfully for a moment. "Have you ever used that on me?"

She ignored his clear violation of the rules, her nails tip-tapping a little rhythm against her thigh. "Sometimes."

There was a soft silence where they stared at each other, before Kyoya climbed to his feet. He wasn't angry by any definition. No, the look in his eyes was contemplative, innocently confused, and maybe a little lost. So Kyoya was going to do what he did best, give himself some distance to analyse the situation and his feelings. "I'm going to make some tea. Want some?"

"Yes, please."

When Kyoya returned with two steaming mugs, he noticed Haruhi by the open window, elbows propped up on the ledge, staring out.

She'd been standing there for a while, letting the soft breeze play with her hair, a happy little smile tugging at her lips. Tinged gold by the last fading rays of sunlight, his eyes slowly sought out the way each lock would shine a deep russet, a peppering of copper and honey strands winking cheerfully as they caught the light.

Loathe he admit it, but his curiosity seized control, leading the boy to carefully making his way over, halting just a touch away. "Hey."

"Hey." She returned softly, relieving him of her mug.

Even then, she didn't avert her eyes from the sky, doe orbs glittering like galaxies of their own.

"What's so interesting out there?"

Her smile widened, head tipping to flash perfect white teeth at him in a childish little grin. "The sunset. It's so pretty today."

A low, acknowledging hum followed those words, and Kyoya quietly made himself comfortable next to her, a lazy arm braced on the ledge, curling just a breath away from her own. "Mundane."

"Oh, shush. You haven't even looked at it."

Which was true.

He hadn't.

Her fingers captured his jaw, gently moving his head up, up to stare at the horizon, and the way colour splashed across the sky.

It was beautiful.

Like fire— it consumed everything within view.

He cast a glance to the side, and Haruhi's eyes were illuminated in that brazen glow. In the same instant, they darted across and met his own, her head cocking curiously to the side.

All of a sudden, her touch was gone.

"You don't like it?"

His chin came to rest on his hand, lazily following the progress of several pedestrians, purely to delay answering. "It's temporary." Kyoya mused finally, a finger deftly adjusting his glasses, more out of habit than anything.

"Temporary?" She echoed, a clear encouragement to continue. He hesitated, tongue caught up in his own head. "That's my question."

Damn her, using that silly game to her advantage. And damn him for being a pushover and letting her.

"While it may be perfect, breathtaking, even, you can look away for a mere second and everything would have changed. So, yes, it's temporary."

"Well," She intoned, slowly, wholly invested in this sudden debate. "That doesn't mean you can't enjoy it."

Kyoya blinked, mulling over her words. His brows were furrowed, lips pursed in deep thought. "There is barely anything to enjoy. Before you can even fully comprehend it, it's gone, in an instant. It's… rather pointless when you think about it."

"Nothing lasts forever, Kyoya." Kyoya. "If people only liked permanent things, then there would be nothing to like, don't you think?"

His nose crinkled in confusion, and Haruhi mentally congratulated herself for finally getting the stoic Kyoya Ootori to present what he was feeling truthfully. "What's the point of something that doesn't last?" He insisted.

She tapped her finger against her lips, thinking her answer through carefully. "The end of something doesn't change the fact that you still had it to begin with. Besides," Her fingers moved upwards, framing the sky in a little box. Kyoya followed her line of sight obediently, head cocked to the side. "You can always take a picture— that's rather more permanent than your memory, no?"

"I suppose that's an option. But… it's not the same," Kyoya angled his phone towards the array of colour, a wistful expression on his face. Haruhi herself had leaned in to look as well. "It feels like… something is missing, almost? An integral part of this image; the part that makes it so compelling. The beauty can't be captured by a lens this primitive."

Haruhi was considering him with an intensity that was almost alarming, head cocked to the side, expression soft, analytical but not judging, never judging.

She had fully turned to face him now, her thumb trailing thoughtfully across her lips. "You have this obsession with permanency. With legacy. But I think… I think it's more damaging than motivating. With you, everything seems to have to be important. To have meaning, or it doesn't serve some self-projected purpose."

"But of course." There was a shadow of emotion clouding his eyes. She was reminded vaguely of the turbulent water during a storm. "It is, after all, what is expected of me should I ever hope to succeed my father and become the next patriarch of the Ootori Empire. An action without clear merit is foolish, possibly devastating."

"And yet, here you are." She mused, almost privately.

A spark of curiosity piqued. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," She assured, and then laughed. "I guess I just found it funny how you say that, with you being here and all. I, for one, don't see the merit in it."

"In me protecting you?" He asked, slowly, not quite understanding, because surely there was a hidden meaning there— some kind of puzzle for him to decipher, a maze of maybes and "what-ifs" all deadends and traps and—

Her smile strengthened, annoyingly bright, as if she knew something he didn't. It irked him. "Not exactly. I wonder, Kyoya-senpai, what exactly is the merit you gain in staying with me? You could quite easily have some of your men watch my apartment in your stead, like you do at night, yet you've never even considered it." She chuckled, light-heartedly. "Why do you bother setting up that cold front of yours when you're a genuinely nice guy? It seems kinda counter-intuitive to me."

In the distance, the faint, melodic trill of birdsong.

Kyoya stared at her, mouth somewhat unhinged. Maybe his brain had completely disconnected from his mouth? That would be the only explanation for his sudden incapability to speak. The idea of calm, collected, articulate Kyoya Ootori being rendered speechless by mere words was utterly ridiculous.

Yet, entirely accurate.

But, he supposed, reasonably, I wouldn't expect any less from her.

She really is a fascinating woman.

Haruhi smiled, observant enough to notice his dilemma. "While I get where you're coming from, Kyoya-senpai, not everything has to be that complicated. You can like something just for the simple pleasure of it."

By then, Kyoya had managed to recover his voice. "That's an intriguing notion, in its own way."

The brunette stretched her arms up above her head, whole body swaying as she worked out the stiffness from her muscles. "Meaning is overrated, anyway. Regardless of what'll happen, you have to admit, that's one hell of a sunset."

His teeth grazed across his bottom lip, a faraway look in his eyes as he digested those words. The next moment, Haruhi was privy to what she was certain was the softest, most genuine smile she'd see grace his features. "Yes, I suppose it is."

A/N: Waddup, I'm Jared, I'm 19 and I never learned how to be on time. But still, chapter 15 is here, and hopefully it lived up to my hype. But also I'm a lil shit and trolling is my game soooo

Thank you to those that reviewed, favourited and followed, they really make my day!

ColaGummyBears: The struggle is so real, honestly. I am forever sobbing at my lack of artistic skills because there are so many things I want to animate but my traitorous hands just won't draw the thing. I would probably cry if anyone ever drew/ animated anything from this lil fic ngl

In other news, the approach of my birthday/Christmas will mean that the next chapter will likely be delayed. Also my traitorous soul has to prioritise schoolwork over Season 8 of Voltron (it honestly pains me) so I will be reverting back to my gremlin self and binging that come Tuesday