Frowning, Haruhi appraised the scene spread before her.

Persistent sunlight spilled through the gap in the draw curtains; across the plush carpet lay discarded papers and stacks of books, with the occasional cat toy thrown into the mix. Normally Kyoya was neat to fault, but in just a day his room had exploded into a warzone. The said boy was still in bed, slumped over even more books, cheek nuzzling into the extremely comfortable pillow that was his laptop.

Noel was nestled safely in her arms. Upon entering the room, the kitten twined through her legs until Haruhi picked her up. Now, she happily rubbed her little head against Haruhi's chin, purring up a storm.

Abently using her thumb to stoke the kitten's soft fur, Haruhi prodded Kyoya's immobile figure with her free hand. "Senpai, it's morning. You need to wake up." Living with her father, she'd had practise at being as annoying as humanly possible, but Kyoya just slept soundly on. "This room is a mess and so are you. Don't think I didn't notice you skipping dinner last night, you must be starving."

His eye twitched minutely in response.

Sharing a furtive glance with Noel, (who always looked as though she were conspiring some fantastic plot), Haruhi shrugged, and dragged her hand through his hair, from the nape of his neck upwards. What would have been a low blow had he been awake and responsive (and likely would've resulted in an involuntary, highly scandalised flinch) elicited only a low, tired moan as he burrowed deeper into his blankets. The resulting sleepy garble sounded vaguely like "yeah, what?" or quite, possibly "fuck off."

Haruhi sighed, and gently adjusted the kitten.

Then, she seized Kyoya's shoulder and shook him. "Come on, rise and shine."

Kyoya stirred, head lolling in a way that way almost cute… before his eyes bolted open and he started kicking wildly. Tangled in the covers, he disappeared off the other side of the bed, feral expression twisting into split-second confusion as he realised he had backed up until there was no longer anything beneath him.

He hit the floor with a loud thump and a resounding groan. For a moment, Haruhi was too stunned to do anything but stare.

"Are you okay?" She blurted, ducking around the bed, ignoring the way Noel's claws dug into her arm.

"Peachy."

Upon spotting Noel, Kyoya abandoned his attempt to extract himself from his sheet prison, softening as Haruhi transferred the warm, fuzzy space heater into his outstretched arms.

That was the exact moment they both realised he was clad only in boxers.

Kyoya hurriedly pulled the sheets completely over his lap. Haruhi could have sworn the tips of his ears were flushed red as wounded confusion led way into irritation. "What the hell were you thinking, Haruhi?"

"I was thinking that you need to eat a decent meal. You've been running on coffee and those corn chips Tamaki-senpai made you try yesterday. You're going to tank at this rate."

Noel mewled in agreement, cozying up to Kyoya's side. He tickled her under the chin, anger slowly draining with each passing second. "What time is it exactly?"

"Eleven." She flashed him her phone as evidence, which did a whole lot of good for the half-blind, glasses-less Kyoya, who promptly shot her a disgruntled look to articulate how helpful that action was. "You missed breakfast, by the way."

She couldn't blame him.

Being the only resident awake, she ate alone, and absolutely hated every moment of it.

The table was a clean, rich mahogany, and it spanned far further than was strictly necessary, serving as another stabbing reminder of their class difference. Whereas she and her father were comfortable around their beaten, scrap-heap rescued table, Kyoya's was wide and long, and with just her tucked up into one corner, it felt terribly lonely.

Being forced to eat alone so often, it was no wonder Kyoya skipped so many meals.

While it certainly wasn't healthy for him, she could understand why it held so much appeal. It was hard not to feel forgotten, unwanted, even, in chairs too big, with a table too wide for one person alone.

Kyoya, of course, didn't seem particularly bothered by the news.

"That's a shame."

"You need to eat something, senpai. You haven't had anything decent since at least yesterday morning, you'll make yourself sick."

"I had—"

"The corn chips don't count."

Kyoya shook his head. He looked so terribly tired that Haruhi felt a sharp stab of guilt. "I'm fine, Haruhi. I feel nauseous, anyway. I'll just eat at dinner."

"Don't even try to tell me you don't have medicine for that. Half your family are doctors." Haruhi held up a silencing finger when Kyoya tried to protest, immediately jumping on her shiny, new Shut The Fuck Up card. "I'm getting you something for your stomach. Now, are you going to get changed, or do I need to bring Tachibana in here?"

His eyes widened, scandalised. "You wouldn't." The whisper was laced with betrayal.

Haruhi's thumb covered over the bright green CALL button. She tilted her head in challenge, summoning every ounce of cockiness she possessed (and some borrowed from the Hitachiin twins). "Do you really want to test that theory?"

For several tense seconds, Kyoya didn't even breathe.

Then, with a sigh, his shoulders slumped forward in defeat.

"Alright, I'm coming. Wait outside, I'll be ready in a couple of minutes."

Victory well and truly earned, she waltzed towards the door with her hands tucked behind her head. "Don't even think about trying to lock me out either, I swiped your room key from a maid."

"You're such a pain!"

Kyoya exited five minutes later, bed hair somewhat tamed, clad in dark jeans and a soft jumper a size too big for him. He glared at the pills she offered him as though they had personally wronged him, swallowing two dry, one after the other. His face twisted in immediate disgust, nose scrunched at the unpleasant after-taste. Still, he followed her into the dining room without further complaint, although he had allowed her to walk down two dead ends before they reached their desired destination.

"You're so helpful." Haruhi said sarcastically, slumping down into one of those large chairs.

"I don't recall ever claiming to be." Kyoya shot back, claiming the seat opposite her.

In an excellent display of maturity, that started kicking each other under the table. Their battle only ceased when Tachibana arrived, bearing a stack of paper that had Kyoya immediately shoving his half eaten breakfast to the side.

"What's that?"

"Documents from Ito-san, the attorney I told you about. She's sent us advice and is willing to represent us should we decide to press charges against Takeda." Kyoya glanced up from where he had been pouring over the text with vigor. "I think we should. Press charges, I mean. Takeda knows where you live, and I don't imagine this situation will improve in the coming weeks. I admit, I don't exactly know what this will do to him—to his mental state—but it's better than…" He sighed, and the sound was bitter, and twenty years too old. "Better than this."

"Does Ito-san agree?"

Kyoya's gaze flicked back down to the papers. "I suppose she can't legally influence our decision, but I do assume from all the information she's provided us with that she thinks it would be the best option."

Haruhi considered his answer, fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the table. "Do you trust her judgement?"

He nodded, entirely confident. "Ito-san has been with our company for years, I trust her without fault. Our only other real option would be to wait this out and hope Takeda eventually leaves you alone. But I couldn't tell you how long that would take. If you want to get home as quickly as possible, I fully believe this is the best way to do so."

There was a pause, and then Kyoya hesitated, taking on a softer tone. "Of course, if you don't agree, we can always think of something else. It's your decision as well."

"Thank you for thinking about me, senpai. Your plan is logical, as far as I can tell. I don't want anyone else getting hurt, if this keeps Takeda away from us then I'm all for it."

Kyoya's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "That was… surprisingly easy. I expected you to put up more of a fight."

She couldn't quite contain her laugh. "But why? It makes perfect sense to me. Let's do it, senpai."

Suspicion was replaced by relief, and a sweet, adorable smile spread across Kyoya's face.

"Good morning, my lovelies!" A cheerful voice trilled from behind.

Ranka skipped into the room, pressing a kiss to Haruhi's forehead, and ruffling Kyoya's hair as he passed. He was followed by a far more dignified Yoshio Ootori, who went all but unnoticed by the bespectacled boy, approaching with silence achieved over years to slide the papers out from Kyoya's hands. The scowl on the boy's face melted away the instant he recognised the man, replaced with something akin to joy.

"Father?"

Cold and calculating, Yoshio's eyes swept over the text. "I see you've been in contact with Ito-san. Legal advice... possible representative…" A heavy pause. "These charges— Attempted Assault, Harassment, Assault and Battery?"

Ranka's cutlery clattered against the table, loud as a bomb. "Haruhi," The dulcet tones of her father greeted her, falsetto voice abandoned for something that was low, and gravely and altogether dangerous. "Please explain."

The pure ice that was Kyoya's glare chilled her to the core. He was trying to tell her something, probably Hell no don't tell them, but one look at the way Yoshio's lips were pursed as he surveyed Kyoya intensely, clearly, desperately searching for any obvious injuries just broke her entirely.

"The attempted assault would be from the convenience store. He grabbed my arm, tried to drag me away. Luckily Kyoya-senpai warded him off with pepper spray so neither of us got hurt in the end. I think we might have, though, if we were unarmed."

Yoshio's gaze hadn't wavered from his son. "Pepper spray?"

Kyoya didn't shrink in his seat, but it seemed like he very much wanted to. "I thought he had a knife. I warned him I was carrying, warned him not to come near us, but he lunged anyway. I kept us safe."

"And where, may I ask, did you acquire such an item?"

"Tachibana. After the incident I don't believe that's too unreasonable of a request."

Ranka cocked his head. "The incident?" He echoed.

Haruhi kicked him under the table, and shook her head in a silent sign of father dearest, I love you, but please kindly shut the fuck up.

Dismissing the exchange entirely, Yoshio waved a careless hand. "There was an attempted kidnapping during the opening of a new hospital. Our security put a stop to it, and Kyoya was unharmed." The aforementioned boy was back to examining the table as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world, and Haruhi really couldn't blame him. "If you'd mentioned feeling unsafe, I would have doubled your security team, Kyoya."

Apparently, being entirely hopeless was an inherited trait.

"Not to impose, but I think you're missing the point, Ootori-san." Two pairs of glasses flashed as they focused on her. "If I'm right, and I think I am, Kyoya-senpai didn't want more people to protect him. He wanted something that would enable him to protect himself."

Kyoya pushed his chair back. His eyes were shielded behind the glare of his glasses, but his posture was stiff and uncomfortable. "Haruhi and I have to leave soon. If you'll please excuse us—"

A hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks. "There are two different assault charges listed. I gather the other was pertaining to you?" Kyoya shook his arm free. It was a slow movement, more of an acceptance and agreement on both sides to truce. Reluctant, on Kyoya's part, who evidently wanted nothing more than to escape this awful conversation.

"Nothing happened."

"Kyoya—"

"If I had been hospitalised, you would have known." He cocked his head, false politeness creeping into his tone. "May I please be excused now, father?"

Yoshio had barely finished a short nod before Kyoya had retrieved his papers, turned on his heels, and stalked away.

Haruhi sighed.

Bowing politely to the Ootori patriarch, and pressing a kiss to her father's cheek, she hurried after Kyoya.

Stress oozed from him, and any other time she might comment on it, but for now, she held her tongue. Kyoya looked so tired, so upset, like a single touch would break him into a thousand little pieces.

She then proceeded to slam into his back when he abruptly stopped.

"You must think I'm pathetic."

Rubbing her head, Haruhi mustered up a smile. "Tamaki-senpai has set that bar pretty high, actually. You'd have to try harder than that to even begin to compare to his dramatics." A small snort of amusement escaped him. Pride warmed her stomach, but otherwise she kept her cool. "He's worried about you. Your father, I mean. You know that, don't you?"

"Worried about me?" Kyoya echoed, drier than any desert she could name. "He's had almost ten years to be worried about me. I don't see any just cause for the special occasion."

Tentatively, Haruhi pushed forward. "I think he wants to make things right with you. Would that be so bad?"

"Haruhi, I gave up on that notion a long, long time ago, and I'm not prepared to be disappointed again. I didn't need him when I was child, and I sure as hell don't need him now." His hands were shaking. Kyoya clenched them into tight fists at his side, but even then the tremor was undeniable. "I don't want to discuss this any further."

There was a certain line in any friendship that should be tested, but not crossed.

Haruhi respected that. And she respected him. Placing a gentle hand on the crook of his arm, she squeezed gently. "Okay. You wanna go lie down before we go to Tamaki-senpai's?"

He adjusted his glasses, before pulling them off altogether, free hand massaging the area around his temples. "No. I wasn't lying earlier, there are matters that need to be dealt with. Namely responding to Ito-san, I should push for the charges to be issued as quickly as possible and…"

His hand moved to cradle his forehead, chin moving upwards in a slow, smooth arc. He exhaled, shakily. "Say, Haruhi. Do you ever get those… those moments where you don't want to exist. But… at the same time you're so utterly terrified of not existing, and so you're just there. Wondering how you can possibly justify the space you've filled to whatever higher power gave you the right to be here."

For some reason, the topic seemed far more important than he wanted to admit. "Well, I think everyone feels like that at some point. The trick is not to let it affect what you do now." She pursed her lips, thoughtfully. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, turning away. "I just don't want to exist today."

Her heart dropped.

It was said so softly, so simply, that Haruhi knew he was being sincere. That he was just so bone-tired that anything, anything, would be better than the painful numbness that he was feeling.

In a movement so quick he could barely register it, she snatched the first paper from his pile and shoved it in his face. "Read this." The hand he tried to use to move it was dodged, and Haruhi wondered where her sudden Ninja skills had emerged from, or whether this was just a pre-programmed reaction triggered only by the self-deprecation of those she cared for. "Read it, senpai."

"Ah, yes. Let me just read this whole document as it is being shoved into my eye."

"Read it from there." She ordered, stubbornly.

His grip on her wrist was shaken off, roughly, and the paper remained almost pressed against his nose. "Will you just move it?"

"No." Her teeth were clenched.

"Haruhi, you need to—"

"Read. It. From. There."

Bafflement had devolved into irritation, clear and plain to see. "I can't when it's this close!"

"Exactly." Vision returned to all its former glory, he was met with the flushed cheeks and shining eyes of the fiery girl he'd come to know. "That's your problem, senpai. You're. Too. Close. Everything seems confusing and hectic to you, because you're not giving yourself the space you need. Take a step back."

A gentle hand splayed across his chest, and pushed him back a step. "And another." She encouraged, smiling when he did. "Now look again. That extra distance goes a long way to help to give you a clearer image of what you're trying to focus on." Fingers squared, she peered through them at him, smiling softly. "Any better?"

He considered her intently, breathing deep and even.

The panic dissipated, leaving him drained, a little confused, but far less angry.

And that was a start.

"Much." His hand raked through his hair. "Thank you."

"And, just for the record, senpai; I'm glad you exist."

Tamaki arrived both too soon, and not quickly enough.

Cold dread twisted in her stomach at the thought of leaving her father. He'll be fine, she tried to reassure herself, repeating the mantra throughout the car journey, He'll be with Kyoya's father, and Akito. They have Bana and Hotta and Jima on standby. He'll be fine. He'll be fine.

The instant they arrived at Tamaki's manor, an excitable Antoinette knocked Kyoya straight to the floor. Hikaru merely stepped over his sprawled form and dragged Haruhi into a game of Mario Kart with Mori and Honey, not even sparing a second to check Kyoya's condition. What conversation could be held was intermittent with screaming and curses, and a slew of unhelpful backseat driving courtesy of Kaoru.

She ended up in a respectable sixth, with Mori beating out all three of them in first, and Hikaru and Honey tied in second. Swapping out with Kaoru, she went to grab herself a drink and only then realised that both Tamaki and Kyoya were absent (and, alarmingly, had been absent the whole game).

On her way to the kitchen, (which she missed twice), she passed a room with the door cracked slightly open, enough that she could hear the two missing boys conversing quietly.

"— Kyoya, maybe you should ask your dad? He's an adult, he has more resources than us. He could help—"

"No." The slight tremor betrayed his otherwise firmness. "I want nothing to do with him. He doesn't deserve anything from me. Why is everyone so insistent about this?"

"Because we can see that he's trying!"

"He's five years too late, Tamaki. I'm not going through this again, I refuse to."

"You should give him a chance, mon ami. He wants to make things right, that should be a good thing. Deliberately isolating yourself like this is hurting you the most, and I hate to see you like that. You could have everything you've ever wanted, but you're too afraid to step into that unknown territory." Tamaki sighed softly, and quite obviously squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Sometimes your need for control is your biggest flaw."

"MOTHERFU— WHO SENT THAT BLUE SHELL?"

The shout drew her from her daze. Feeling increasingly more embarrassed for eavesdropping, Haruhi pushed off the wall, catching the tail end of Kyoya's statement as she left. "Will you be satisfied if I promise to call Yuuichi?"

What exactly they were discussing was beyond her knowledge, yet something in her gut tightened. She pushed past the discomfort and ran a glass of water, following the sounds of Hikaru and Kaoru screaming at each other to guide herself back.

Kyoya and Tamaki returned for the third race of the game, accompanied by Antoinette, who hopped up next to her on the loveseat and thrust her head into Haruhi's lap.

(Hikaru picked Ghost Valley and subsequently received three identical death glares. Honey shoved him off the track within the first ten seconds, much to the amusement of everyone else.

Surprisingly, the redhead failed to see the humour in the situation. He got his revenge in the second lap, shelling the blond Lolishorta three times in quick succession, after which Honey was promptly flattened by an enlarged Toad).

All throughout the round, she watched Kyoya from the corner of her eye. He was surprisingly normal, maybe a little more tired than before, but was content to curl up on the furthest corner of the couch, gaining just enough distance to avoid Tamaki's jostling. The blond was even worse than Kaoru, and his advice was less than appreciated by those playing.

The next swap had Tamaki, Hikaru, Mori and (a very reluctant) Kyoya playing.

Tamaki electively decided that since he was the King, he should therefore be player one. Hikaru rolled his eyes and grabbed the second player controller, Mori the third, while an utterly done Kyoya took fourth.

If she thought the twins were loud, she was wholly unprepared for the volume of Tamaki's screeches. Every little thing set him off, and very quickly a mischievous Honey was accidentally-on-purpose nudging him under the guise of moving into a more comfortable position.

"WHO HIT ME WITH THAT SHELL? HIKARU, I KNOW THAT WAS YOU!"

Apparently, Tamaki was getting targeted again. Being an absolutely shit driver in general, Haruhi wasn't exactly surprised by this.

Hikaru merely snickered. "Boss, I'm in front of you."

"MUMMY!"

Clearly questioning his choice in friends, Kyoya sighed. "I'm also in front of you."

"On your left."

"I CAN CLEARLY SEE YOU PASSING ON THE RIGHT, RESPECT YOUR KING, MORI-SENPAI!"

Mori stuck a banana behind him in lieu of replying, which Tamaki ploughed directly into.

Haruhi was truly amazed at how nobody had come to check on them yet. They could be getting shanked right then and there and nobody would even know. What with Hikaru and Kaoru once again yelling at each other ("TURN LEFT, TURN LEFT!" — "I AM TURNING LEFT!" — "YOU'RE NOT TURNING LEFT!" A shriek as Hikaru's character tumbled over the side, and then, "I TOLD YOU TO TURN LEFT!"), and Tamaki still vehemently cursing out Mori, it was pure chaos.

The saga continued with a second bout of hollering from Kaoru, this time directed at Tamaki. "Hit him! Throw the shell! WHAT WAS THAT, THAT WAS NOT HITTING HIM! HE WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, HOW COULD YOU MISS?"

Needless to say, Kyoya won. Considering the three of them seemed to forget he was playing entirely, it wasn't exactly a difficult victory.

Deciding to spare their poor throats from further abuse, Haruhi suggested a movie. The idea was met with eager agreement. Just one glance at the twin's wicked smirks had Haruhi regretting saying anything at all. Kyoya apparently shared that sentiment, for when the two redheads clambered over everyone for prime spots, he escaped the tangle of limbs and dropped down next to her on the loveseat.

Antoinette whimpered happily, and nuzzled her wet nose against his neck. He shivered at the cold, and carefully tried to push her away. He failed, and ended up with a lapful of excited golden retriever, who blatantly ignored his whispered protests.

After Mori shot the twins the kind of warning glance that was typically reserved for cats who were about to swipe a full glass off a table, they settled on one of the Avengers movies, extremely put out that they couldn't pick a horror. They were quickly distracted when Tamaki re-entered the room with bowls of popcorn. He handed off an especially heaped bowl to Kyoya with a wink and a promise that it was exactly how he liked it. Kyoya's expression softened into fondness, and despite the tantalising smell of food, Antoinette barely twitched.

She remained with her head tucked underneath Kyoya's hand, occasionally nudging closer every now and again.

Perhaps the dog was smarter than everyone gave her credit for. It seemed as though she could sense something wasn't quite right with the boy, and sought to comfort him.

The thought brought a smile to her face.

He really did seem a lot more content, and right now, that was enough.

Raking a hand through his hair, Kyoya looked up at exactly the precise moment to see Haruhi smack her head against the door frame as she shuffled into the room. Far beyond confused, the girl cradled her injury, the other hand moving to stifle a yawn.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked pleasantly, around 90 percent certain that was his shirt she was wearing.

She nodded, wiping stray moisture from her eyes. "I don't remember getting into bed."

"Technically, you didn't. You actually fell asleep on the couch." He could see the cogs struggling to turn in her head as she slowly looked from him to the door, so he clarified. "Mori-senpai carried you to your room."

Making an indistinct acknowledging mumble, Haruhi padded closer, hugging her knees to her chest once she settled herself on the chair next to Kyoya.

He frowned. "Are you still tired?"

"No," her voice was slow, lacking confidence. Eyes dropping to her lap, she displayed her own confusion, and wordlessly pointed at his mug of coffee.

"Help yourself."

She smiled gratefully when he pushed the mug across the table towards her, eagerly taking a long gulp. It took more willpower than Kyoya knew he possessed to stop himself laughing at how Haruhi's expression morphed to disgust, her little nose wrinkling.

"Not to your taste, I gather?"

Somehow, she swallowed, warily licking her lips.

"That's darker than normal. You've never had your coffee this black before."

His gaze seemed to penetrate her, leaving her defenceless. "Is that so?"

"Did you sleep at all?"

His fingers tip-tapped on the table, nails drumming a restless rhythm that disclosed all Haruhi wanted to know. "A little." he replied, finally. When she stared at him, long and hard, he sighed and almost deflated, remembering words from so, so many weeks before, but to him, it seemed like years. "Enough to function properly."

Enough because there was a difference between that, and no sleep at all, just like how tired was cute and sleepy and entirely harmless while exhausted was six mugs of coffee and murder.

Brows drawn together dubiously, Haruhi took another small sip of the beverage, her upper lip curling in distaste. "I have no idea how you can drink this."

"Practise."

"It's vile."

"That's harsh."

She still looked drowsy, so Kyoya hauled himself from his chair with a resigned sigh. "I'll make you some. Just fix your hair." His fingers teased an unruly lock as he passed and in the corner of his eye, her head bobbed minutely as she fought to tame the mess.

Before he could even leave the room, her noise of surprise stopped him in his tracks. "Don't you guys have maids and stuff for that?"

"We do," He allowed, fighting back a smirk. "But Tamaki thought you'd appreciate a more relaxed environment. His staff made themselves scarce not long after we arrived, and have until later this evening off. I doubt they usually get much of a lie in, so I'm sure they're quite pleased with this turn of events."

Her quizzical expression softened into one of fondness. "Oh, right."

He used instant coffee. Not only because it was quick and simple to make, but because he thought the familiarity would comfort the girl. A dash of milk and two teaspoons of sugar later, he casually leaned against the doorway, unruffled by the fact that the brunette was skimming through the files on his laptop.

"Finished already?" She queried, mildly.

"Not quite. There's cream in the fridge. Would you like some for your coffee?"

Still not bothering to avert her eyes from the screen, Haruhi absently shook her head. "I'm not too fond of cream. Especially in drinks."

"Cakes are different, I presume?"

Ochre orbs flickered up with a hint of amusement. "Of course." They widened upon spotting the silver foil in his hand. "Is that chocolate?"

He nodded. "Dark." Her eagerness was unmistakable. "You like it, too?"

"It's my favourite."

He broke a row and tossed it to her, then carefully carried over her coffee, barely batting an eyelid as she dropped a square of chocolate in the liquid. "Strange choice." Kyoya himself was savouring a cube on the top of his tongue, giving a content hum as it melted in his mouth.

"Comfort food." She explained offhandedly, dumping another square in. "I've been craving it for a while."

"That's fair enough." Successfully ignoring how the girl pouted when he pulled his laptop back towards himself, Kyoya returned to work.

As it turned out, Ito-san was thorough and incredibly helpful. Her step by step methods aided him to organise his thought process and keep him centred and in the moment, rather than agonising over the countless what-if scenarios of the future. Still, his earlier talk with Tamaki was fresh on his mind.

Almost straight from the beginning, the boy had steered him into an empty room, blue eyes sharp and able to cut him right down to the core. It was child's play for him to extract everything— his fears and worries and how utterly useless he felt.

The Protective Order wasn't their great saviour. Quite frankly, it wouldn't do shit to stop Takeda from going for them again. But it would mean that if he ever violated the terms, he would face a much harsher conviction. Kyoya hated it, the fact that they had to sit and wait and risk their safety to get him locked away, to keep them safe. He hated how it was necessary.

As much as he'd like to have the bastard take a very long walk off a short pier, doing so wouldn't exactly be lawful. Neither would locking him up until the end of time. The punishment has to fit the crime, and up against a jury, Takeda's crime certainly wouldn't fit the punishment Kyoya wanted.

He'd promised Haruhi he'd fix it.

It was November for god's sake.

She'd been living hell for over two months, and he'd done nothing.

And then there was Tamaki, being logical and untying the knots in his brain— Talk to your dad, talk to someone. They're there, waiting for you to lean on them. It doesn't make you weak if you need help.

Kyoya wasn't sure how much he believed that, but Tamaki was insistent, so he'd relented.

Sighing, he focused back on the text.

During his dilemma, Haruhi wandered off to pick a book from the shelf and was busy reading. They remained in content silence, occasionally sharing the odd word or two, until Tamaki woke up an hour and a half later and complained about them not sharing the chocolate with him. His wailing evidently roused the twins, who were all long stretches and sleepy yawns, silencing Tamaki from the sharpness of their glares alone.

Kyoya, always well versed in the art of completely ignoring his friends, had tuned out most of the exchange. That was until Kaoru took one look at Haruhi, who had started moving out of the room, and pushed her down in a nearby chair.

"Um… What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" He responded, flippantly. "I'm making you breakfast. You look like you need it."

Haruhi was left somewhat perplexed, remaining still purely because Antoinette had arrived and decided she absolutely needed to be petted by the girl. The redhead returned donned in an apron, and promptly marched over to Kyoya, insistently closing the lid of his laptop.

Kyoya felt his fingers twitch, annoyance simmering below the surface.

"Have you had breakfast?"

Expression deadpan, he took a long sip of coffee. "Yes."

"Coffee doesn't count as breakfast."

"Then no."

Considering his last experience with the twin's cooking, Kyoya began preparing to evacuate the house. Tamaki seemed to have been on the same page, for he saluted Kyoya and escaped the room while he still could. In the end, Kaoru dished out two plates that looked fairly appetising. It might have been the bitter and jaded part of him, but he'd expected worse. Honestly, he was just surprised nothing had ended up on fire or in pieces. But then again, Hikaru had been evicted from the kitchen straight away, so that probably had a big part to play in the rampant lack of pyromania.

All in all, it had been good.

Haruhi stepped outside the room to check in with her father, and when she returned, Kyoya showed her the picture an extremely confused Akito had forwarded to him earlier that day.

Apparently their fathers were bonding over baby pictures.

Kyoya almost couldn't believe his eyes. Haruhi, on the other hand, merely slapped a hand to her forehead and groaned.

Mori and Honey emerged at some point, but Tamaki, strangely, was still absent. Sparing a glance to check on Haruhi, who was happily playing a card game with the two senpais, he slipped out in search of his friend.

Fast as a whip, Antoinette came hurtling down the corridor at the sound of his footsteps, happy to bounce around him as he searched. Or, tried to search, at least. Almost immediately, his phone was ringing.

Tachibana.

A knot of unease twisted in his stomach.

Tamaki and Haruhi found him ten minutes later. Collapsed into a tight corner, back jammed painfully against the wall. Antoinette in his lap, his free hand tangled in her fur. His ministrations were shaky, an awkward staccato that did nothing to calm him.

He ended the call as they approached, failing to keep his expression neutral.

"Kyoya?" Tamaki edged, hesitantly.

Haruhi knelt down in front of them, placating the dog when she raised her head, wary. "Is everything okay, senpai?"

"I'm sorry." Were the first words he could force out, which, in hindsight, was probably not the smartest thing to say. Fear hit her with the force of a wrecking ball, paling her face almost instantly. "Your apartment— there was a break in. I think it was Takeda."

A/N: I LIIIIIIIIIIIIVE

Exam season was rough, and England just decided it was going to freak the fuck out because of a little bit of snow. You know, the usual

Thank you for everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed, it really makes my day!

Side note: While it isn't exactly crucial to the plot, I've actually had their ages wrong this entire time, so I will amend that shortly. Going by the Japanese school year (which I believe starts in April) the correct ages for where the story is currently at (Early November) should be:

Mori- 18 (May 5th)

Honey- 17 (February 29th)

Tamaki- 17 (April 6th)

Kyoya- 16 (November 22nd)

Hikaru and Kaoru- 16 (June 9th)

Haruhi- 15 (February 4th)