Chapter 6
It was 11:30 at night and Haruhi was long asleep when the door to her bedroom suddenly burst open.
"Up, up, up!" yelled Ayame. "You need to get up right now." She then fled the room and went down the hall to bang on Tamaki's door. Haruhi trailed after her, sleep addled.
"What on earth is going on?" Haruhi asked, as she followed Ayame to Tamaki's bedroom where he stood holding the door open in pajama bottoms and nothing more, looking as confused as Haruhi.
"You need to move your clothes right now into his closet, Haruhi. Make room, Tamaki," Ayame ordered, as she sauntered back to Haruhi's room and started grabbing clothes out of the closet.
"Ayame!" Haruhi yelled. "Stop! Please tell us what is happening."
Ayame halted, holding an armful of Haruhi's clothes. "I received a tip just now that immigration is making random sweeps—and they can arrive at any time of day or night with no warning. You have to look like a real couple—not just two people living in the same house. That means, your things should be in Tamaki's room, clothes in his closet, toiletries in his bathroom…now move!"
"Oh my god!" Haruhi panicked, "They really look at that?"
"Yes!" said Ayame. "In drawers, in closets—and in beds!"
"What do you mean, 'in beds'?" Tamaki asked, as he started helping Haruhi and Ayame pick up belongings and carry them to his room.
"Exactly what you think it means…" said Ayame, as she shoved Tamaki's clothes aside in his gigantic closet to hang up Haruhi's. "They can show up at any time! And if they find you in separate bedrooms, the questions may start to fly … if they are the least bit suspicious, they will start interviewing servants, neighbors, gardeners… whoever!"
Both Haruhi and Tamaki blanched. Ayame stopped her mad rush to look at them.
"Listen, it's only for a few days—they can't sustain this kind of thing for long, I'm told," she patted them both on their arms. "Once they've snagged one or two fakes, they'll claim victory and move on. They might not even come here, given the Suoh name… but we have to be ready."
They indeed had gotten complacent over the past few months. She'd now been there a little over five months and they had fallen into an easy routine of eating breakfast together, talking about what to expect at their respective jobs that day. They'd even started watching movies together some evenings and on the weekends as well as sharing books. Tamaki's love for histories and historical dramas was not surprising—but Haruhi's guilty pleasure of romcoms and romance novels came as quite a surprise indeed to Tamaki.
They did find that they both shared a love for Western composers, with Tamaki often playing Haruhi's favorites for her—Chopin, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky. She could listen for hours—having had very little opportunity to hear music live over the years.
All of this camaraderie had fostered a false sense of security, so it seemed. But after a frantic hour of moving clothes and belongings and arranging personal items around Tamaki's room, Ayame was satisfied.
"I think that should do it…" she said. "Oh, wait …" she opened her satchel and pulled out a few items. "These should give it the finishing touch."
In her hands she held a container of shower lube, a handful of condoms—and handcuffs. Tamaki and Haruhi watched in horror as she marched to the bed, shoved the condoms into one bedside table's drawer and then to the other side and shoved the handcuffs in that one's drawer. She then trooped into the bathroom to add the final item to the shelf in Tamaki's cavernous shower.
"Are you serious?" asked Tamaki, his face turning bright red.
"Yes—I'm very serious. Now get into bed, the two of you, and I'll catch up with you in a few days to signal the all-clear." With that, she left as suddenly as she had arrived.
Tamaki and Haruhi just blinked at each other for a few moments. Finally, she asked, "Which side do you want? Handcuffs or condoms?"
They both started laughing—thank goodness. Tamaki wasn't sure if he'd been able to hide the tremor that went through him otherwise at the idea of sleeping in the same bed as Haruhi.
"I guess I'll take handcuffs. You know me and cosplay," Tamaki managed to joke.
"Pervert," Haruhi threw at him and clambered into her side of the bed after tossing her robe over the dresser. She was super glad that she had on nice pajamas tonight. She usually slept in ratty old T-shirts of her dad's.
Tamaki himself had quickly put on a t-shirt when Ayame had burst into his room earlier and as he started to get into bed, Haruhi said, "You don't have to wear the t-shirt, Senpai, if that's not how you usually sleep. Don't change your habits on my account."
"Umm, okay," he said uncertainly. He slowly took off his shirt, her eyes on him as he did so making him feel quite heated. Once off, he quickly snapped off the lamp and got into bed.
Even though there was a good three feet between them in his large bed, he could feel her warmth. He took some deep breaths. This was getting a little bit more intense than he had bargained for and despite his best efforts he felt himself starting to get aroused.
Stop it! He ordered his traitorous body. Think about unsexy stuff! Funerals, inflation, spreadsheets.
Haruhi, on the other hand, seemed to drift off right away, her soft, steady breathing floating over to him. He'd always known she could fall asleep at the drop of a hat—she seemed to nod off all the time in high school like a soldier catching a few winks on the battlefield. Yet even despite her predilection to sleep, the very awkwardness of the situation, he would have thought, would have at least induced a tiny bit of wakefulness.
But no, Haruhi being phlegmatic, neutral-as-ever-towards-him Haruhi, had dozed off within minutes. What did that tell him? If he'd thought there'd maybe be a repeat of her sexy shenanigans from their wedding night, he was sadly mistaken.
After about an hour of staring into the darkness and listening to her soft breathing—or longer, he had no idea how long, really—he finally fell asleep.
Three days and three torturous nights later Ayame called informing them that it was all good. The agency had brought in one couple—one half of which was in bed with another man, the other half in an apartment across town, also in bed with another man. Apparently, they were part of a network of "couples" that had been set up through a black market "agency" that basically matched those willing to marry for money with those that needed easy access to a visa.
"They were looking into this ring specifically," Ayame explained. "So I don't think we were ever really in any danger… But better safe than sorry."
"That's good news," said Haruhi, who had put the phone on speaker so Tamaki could hear.
"I suppose I can get my stuff out of your way, now, Senpai," said Haruhi after she hung up.
As they shuffled around Tamaki's bedroom gathering up her items, he awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Umm—Haruhi?"
"Yes?" she glanced over at him as he continued to take her belongings off the dresser, not looking at her.
"Well, there's this event in two weeks that I need to go to—a ball given by an associate of my father's. Would you—would you be willing to go with me?"
"Of course, Senpai. That's part of the deal, right?" she smiled brightly at him. For some reason he seemed nervous asking her. Heck, it would look strange, wouldn't it, if he showed up without his new bride … but then she hesitated. Let's face it, she thought, I wasn't exactly brought up in this world. Perhaps he was afraid she would embarrass him? Her face suddenly got hot at the thought.
"But—are you sure, Senpai?" Self-doubt creeping into her voice. "I'm not particularly well-versed in those types of settings..."
"Of course, I'm sure! Haruhi, you don't give yourself enough credit," he said sincerely, coming over to look into her eyes. "You are a natural host, remember? No one who meets you can resist you… You're so honest and smart and caring …"
He cut himself off, getting a bit flustered. "I'd be honored to go anywhere with you, Haruhi," he concluded quietly.
"Well, when you put it that way," laughed Haruhi, touched by his words, "I'd be honored to go with you."