Chapter 8

He didn't know how much later it was, when he was awoken by a loud clap of thunder. But as he settled back down to sleep, he groggily discerned that his door was slowly opening. "Senpai?" It was Haruhi, hesitant, her voice quavering. "I…"

He was up and across the room in seconds, just as a flash of lightening illuminated the room. He could see her there, her face uncertain, tears in her eyes—and then she was in his arms.

"It's okay, it's okay, Haruhi, I'm here," he said pulling her close as she buried her head in his chest.

"I'm so sorry to barge in…" she said breathily, "I don't know if you remember…"

"Of course, I remember," he whispered into her hair. How could he have forgotten her fear of thunderstorms, forgotten that night he held her in his arms? That was when he knew for sure that he loved her. He had dreamed of that night so many times over the years, how it felt to protect her, to hold her and comfort her. How in his dreams it often didn't end with just holding…

Another crack of thunder had her clinging to him even harder. He gently picked her up and brought her to his bed. They had shared it already so he didn't feel it was too forward to place her under the covers, as he wrapped his arms around her trembling body, holding her head against his shoulder.

"Shhh," he said, murmuring comforting words to her, then softly singing a lullaby in French to calm her. He had promised that night all those years' ago that she'd never have to be alone again. But it wasn't long after that that he found out she didn't want him to keep her safe, that she didn't want him at all. He pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on calming her and being a good friend.

Finally, the storm subsided, but he still held her close and she made no move to push him away. He thought that she had fallen asleep, there in his arms, and so he started to slowly disentangle himself to give her space to sleep—the last thing he wanted was for her to wake up and view his continued embrace as taking advantage of her fear.

But before he could pull away, he felt her arms tighten around him.

"Senpai?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Haruhi, I didn't mean to wake you …" he whispered back.

"I wasn't asleep," she said, slowly, her head still leaning against his chest. "I was just—thinking …" she said haltingly.

"About?" he asked. Maybe she was ready to tell him what had happened earlier in the evening.

She was silent for a long time.

"Tamaki," she said finally, startling him by not using the honorific he had told her thousands of times not to use. "Why did you pull away all those years' ago?"

He froze. "What do you mean?" he asked trying to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about.

"I think you know what I mean…" she said, leaning back slightly to look into his eyes. "I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but at some point, you put distance between us back then. We had gotten close, I thought, after that first trip to Okinawa. What changed?"

What changed, he thought to himself…

ooooooooooooo

"Why can't you like him?" he heard Kauru's voice asking Haruhi that question as he adjusted a costume for an upcoming host club event, thinking that no one was around to hear. Tamaki had been gathering up some supplies in the entry to the dressing area and knew he shouldn't listen to the in-progress conversation, that he should make his presence known. But he didn't.

"Don't corner me, Kauru," Haruhi had responded irritably. "I'm simply not interested in a relationship right now."

"That's not an answer," Kauru insisted. "You either like him or you don't."

"Does Hikaru know you're asking me this?"

"Of course not! But he's my brother—and I know he's suffering because he thinks you like someone else."

"Well, I don't," she responded, getting more annoyed. "Like I said, I'm not interested in dating anyone. I will always put my studies first. I can't afford to get distracted by a relationship."

"It's Tono, right?"

"What!?" Haruhi's voice had risen a bit in tone.

"I can tell by your face that it's Tono. Why him?"

"Kauru—stop," she tried to interrupt.

"Hikaru is just as worthy as he is—maybe more. Tono's all over every girl that walks through the door!"

"Stop it, Kauru."

"He doesn't deserve you…"

"No one 'deserves me,' Kauru – I'm not some prize."

"So it is Tono—I guess he always gets all the girls, that guy," Kauru said bitterly.

"Kauru—you all always get everything you want! That's the problem," Haruhi said harshly. "You're all a bunch of rich spoiled brats that think I'm some sort of toy—a toy that you only want when you think someone else has it."

"And the boss is the one you want to have it, is that it?" asked Kauru.

"No! I don't want any of you—especially Tamaki-Senpai," she said, her exasperation starting to grow.

"I think the fact that you're getting so angry says otherwise, Haruhi."

"I am not getting angry," she said, but her voice was starting to indicate just that. "We are all just friends and I like it that way, so just drop it, Kauru."

"What do they say," said Kauru snidely, "The lady doth protest too much, hmm?"

"I said drop it, Kauru…" she hissed.

"I will—when you admit that it's him…"

"It's not!" she finally exploded, Kauru's goading finally driving her over the edge. "How could you think I'd want to be with someone like that—someone so vain and self-involved—like all of you are!" Haruhi shouted. "I will never want to be with anyone like that—like any of you! Never! I will never understand your world and you'll never understand mine. In my world you don't get something unless you work for it—and that's how I want it to be. I'd rather die than be with one of you rich bastards never knowing if what I achieve is because of my own abilities or because of money and status."

Tamaki had heard enough. He fled the dressing area and escaped to the garden and sat there stunned. She'd never want anyone like them—especially him, she had said. It echoed through his head, whatever he had thought may be growing between them turning to dust.

How could he have been so foolish to think Haruhi Fujioka, someone for whom achievement through hard work was everything, would want to be with him? She would always do things on her own terms, attaining goals through her own perseverance. And she would always hold a certain amount of disdain for their world—his world. True, she was a good friend to all of them and he was sure she always would be. But never would she be anything more.

ooooooooooooo

"Tamaki?" she asked again, still in his arms.

"Did I ever not treat you as a valued friend?" Tamaki hedged. "I do apologize if I ever made you feel less so…"

But she knew now that she had wanted to be more than a valued friend, even if she had never wanted to admit it to herself back then. Thought that she was more than a valued friend… especially during that thunderstorm.

And here she was again.

But this time she wasn't going to sit and speculate and allow self-doubt to creep in—she'd push away what Ayanokoji had said earlier that evening. She wasn't a naïve little first-year anymore. She wanted to know, wanted answers.

"You had promised me—back then—that I'd never be alone again," she whispered against his chest. "That you'd always be there for me…"

"Have I not?" he asked, still playing dumb, a slight panic setting in.

"Don't," she insisted.

"Don't what?"

"Don't make me say it, Senpai." She was trying to be brave, but she needed him to meet her halfway. If he could just give her some sort of sign … something …

"Haruhi," he finally said hoarsely. She looked up at him. "Why did you pull away—tonight, at the ball?"

It was a fair question. But she didn't want to answer it, didn't want to give voice to her apprehension.

"You first," she whispered.

They were both silent for a moment. And then he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I heard you back then—what you said about the hosts—about me…" he offered hesitantly, ashamed even all these years' later to admit he had been eavesdropping. "How you'd rather die than be with me…"

"I don't understand…" Haruhi asked, truly bewildered. "I said that? When?"

He gulped. "To Kauru ..."

"That can't be true—" then she cut herself off. A memory flashed across her mind. Kauru harassing her about not liking Hikaru, pushing her to admit she had feelings for Tamaki. And she remembered her reaction, how scared she was that he had seemed to guess how she felt, and how ridiculous it was for her, boyish bookish Haruhi, to desire the prince of the host club. How Tamaki could have any girl he wanted, as Kauru had so callously reminded her.

She had lashed out. Was desperate to deny it to Kauru and to herself. To say anything that would make him back off. And she had—said anything.

And Tamaki had heard.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "I—I didn't…" she stammered. She buried her head in his chest. Could it be? All this time… no, her mind wouldn't allow for it. It was too cruel. "Why?" her voice muffled, as she pressed her face against him, anguish overcoming her. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you ask me?"

But she knew why. It was the same reason why she hadn't asked him. Why she didn't demand to know why he was being so distant. Insecurity, doubt, fear.

He sighed. "Oh, Haruhi… because I got it. I really did, back then. And I really do now. I know I've never been the right person for you. And I know that's why you pulled away tonight."

"But it wasn't true!" she finally managed to blurt out.

His arms suddenly tightened around her. "What?" he said in a hoarse whisper after a pause. "What wasn't—true?"

"What you heard—it wasn't true! I did—I mean, Kauru had cornered me—and I…"

She couldn't put it into words. Not now. So she did what she'd been wanting to do all evening. She leaned her head up and kissed him.

It was like an electric current went through him. Like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly he was kissing her with a passion he never thought he'd ever be able to give rein to. And she was kissing him back.

He was quickly on top of her, devouring her mouth, she wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. After so many years of misunderstanding, it was like their bodies couldn't wait another single second for their minds to catch up.

They spent the rest of the night making up for lost time. No wedding night could have been sweeter.