Kiss
Chapter 2: Finding the Extra Time
The next time that Kyoya challenges Haruhi is the following year. In true Haruhi fashion, she manages to secure work at the same company even when classes begin again, and so her free time becomes next to nothing during that first semester back. During the weekly chats, she's always doing homework, and toward the end of the semester, the meetings turn into monthly hangouts.
By the time the next semester starts, Kyoya is itching to spend more time with her, but she is even more swamped. Her advanced business law course takes up whatever time she isn't working. He's glad that Haruhi is making good money for the first time, but he misses his friend.
He's not content with just a few hours every week that depend upon Tamaki or a party planner arranging it. Kyoya wants more. He doesn't know what to do or how to achieve it outside of straight up asking her to hang out together, but he keeps looking for openings. He wants her extra time, whatever little time there is, to spend it with her, even if it means working together more than talking. It would still be time together, bonding and growing closer to her. It would mean he could talk to her anytime.
He just has to actually see her to talk to her.
When it comes to communicating with one another, Haruhi and Kyoya prefer texting to calling, and the minimum is done. Up to this point, Kyoya has been satisfied with this arrangement since they're still just friends. Neither one texts each other just because or out of the blue; they get enough of that from Tamaki.
Without the weekly meetups, though, Kyoya is forced to acknowledge that things can't stay as they are. Something must change, or he's going to lose her as life makes her busier. After she warns Tamaki that she can't meet up for two weeks straight, nor should she be disturbed for fear of the wrath of Haruhi, Kyoya begins to worry when she doesn't show up without any communication to Tamaki.
That's new for her, and Tamaki is crushed. After many mushrooms are grown, the blond decides to send Haruhi a care package of fancy tuna and other food since too much work and homework have been her excuse lately.
When Haruhi says nothing after Tamaki's gift is sent, Kyoya knows he must do something. If it were anyone else, he'd scheme and cause trouble for the person so that they acknowledge him, but Haruhi is different. She sees through his facade and is so busy right now that he doesn't want to add more to her life unnecessarily.
So he decides to do the most straightforward – and scariest – thing he can: he texts her. It's a simple text asking how she is and if she is alright, and that's it.
And then he waits. The waiting kills him. After a week, she still hasn't responded back, and based on reports from his men, she's alive and spending her waking hours in class and at work. But she's not responding back. It's a little rude, and now he's worried.
The problem is that he's only a friend. He'd like to think he's a close friend of hers, but he doesn't know that for sure. If he were dating her, he could impose on her, demanding that she tell him what is going on and tell her to take a break. But he doesn't have that kind of sway with her...yet.
He's determined to change that, and now he's ready to do what he does best, because he's tired of not knowing what's going on with Haruhi. It would be out of character for him to go banging on her door and demand an explanation...but not for Tamaki.
"You know, I haven't seen Haruhi scurrying across campus like I normally do," observes Kyoya to Tamaki soon after making his decision.
Gasping, the blond stands. "You're right! We haven't seen her or heard from her in a while."
"Something must be wrong," concludes Kyoya, smirking as he leans against the door jamb.
Tamaki's eyes get comically big as he puts on his jacket. "You're right! She's obviously in trouble. What if they've kidnapped her and forced her to live and study in her classroom? Or what if that company is blackmailing her into working more?" He rushes toward the door at breakneck speed. "We have to save her! We're coming, Haruhi!"
All it takes is two sentences; Tamaki is so predictable. Kyoya shouldn't be so pleased with himself for doing this and inflicting a worried, overbearing Tamaki on a stressed Haruhi, but she should've texted him back. That is all he ever wanted, to be acknowledged and know that she isn't in trouble.
The pair make good time, and Kyoya stands back as Tamaki pounds on the door.
"Ha-ru-hi! Where are you? Why haven't you contacted me lately? Did that mean company forbid you from seeing your friends?" When the walls make a settling sound nearby, Tamaki's expression changes as he observes the building with distaste. "Did the roof collapse on this shady building? You know I've been telling you to leave this awful place," complains Tamaki loudly.
In that respect, Tamaki and Kyoya are aligned; they both want Haruhi to leave this apartment that is one day away from being condemned. She can afford better now, but she insists on staying here. It's far away from the rest of the Hosts living nearby, and it annoys Kyoya. According to the man assigned to watch over her that day, Haruhi is home, and after Tamaki has managed to make at least four other doors open from the sheer amount of noise he causes, Haruhi shows herself.
She looks awful. There are large, dark bags under her eyes, her clothing and hair unwashed, and she is scowling.
"What do you want, Tamaki?" she demands, hands going to her hips. "I asked you not to visit me–"
It's then her eyes fall on Kyoya, and he feels seen in a way he rarely is. Only his two closest friends see beyond the cold, detached exterior, seeing the real him with all his intentions, but Haruhi affects him differently. This time is no different. The way her eyes narrow and focus on him tells him that she already knows why Tamaki went against her wishes.
He is found out, but he doesn't care. To make his point, he steps closer, owning the fact that he is still the Shadow King, influencing others to suit his needs. And right now, her health and well-being are what he needs to ascertain, and Tamaki is the best way to do it.
"But we haven't seen you in weeks! You didn't even tell me you weren't coming last week! We missed you!" cries Tamaki, hugging her tightly in relief. "What if you were lying in a ditch somewhere, or forced to become a slave to your work? We came to rescue you!"
The urge to roll his eyes has never been stronger as Kyoya listens to the wild scenarios that Tamaki's overactive imagination cooks up.
"Get off of me," she grumbles, pushing him into her apartment before glaring at Kyoya, waving for him to enter before they cause more of a ruckus. As soon as he is inside, she locks the door behind him and faces the pair. "As you can see, I'm fine."
"You most certainly are not," interjects Kyoya, lowering his glasses. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"
She waves his concerns away. "I was digging for something, and everything got messy. It's not a big deal. I'm just stressed about my business law class right now."
All Kyoya wants to do right now is take hold of her shoulders and shake her. If she, the best student there is, is struggling, something is wrong. Thank goodness for Tamaki, who is a much more demonstrative bloodhound when he wants information.
"What happened?" asks Tamaki, wrapping his arms around her. His voice gets more shrill with each question and crazy scenario he imagines. "Are they belittling you? Forcing you to do extra homework? Not feeding you?!"
"No!" she shouts, pushing him off in annoyance. When Tamaki's face falls, her hard face softens, along with her voice. "This business law course is more business than law, and I'm struggling to understand since I've never taken a business class."
She sneaks a peek at Kyoya at the mention of business, and he can just tell that were she less proud, she would ask him for help but won't. It frustrates him knowing he could have prevented all this.
"I'm trying to teach myself both business and business law later, and I'm stressed because I'm failing the class currently." She sighs, and he can hear how tired she is, how much she just wants to rest but stubbornly refuses. She walks so she's standing halfway between the guys. "I'm not fit to be around others, so now you know why I haven't reached out to either of you."
Her eyes glance at him briefly, and he wishes she'd look at him longer. She, however, is clearly pissed to have to deal with them, but he doesn't care. He's a man on a mission now, as he finally sees how he can spend time with Haruhi and help lessen the load on her shoulders.
Before Tamaki can spout something about how he knows that things will get better, Kyoya interrupts. "So what are you doing differently to change this so you can get enough sleep and pass your class? At this point in the semester, what you're currently doing is not working, and do you really want to threaten your scholarship like you did that one time at Ouran Academy?"
Her mouth opens and closes before she takes one step toward him. "Are you suggesting that I get a–"
She stops before mentioning a tutor, and he curses inwardly that she won't play his game. Still, he can't help but move toward her.
He opens his mouth to retort, but she has more to say. "Why are you here?"
Two can play this game. If she wants information, she'll have to work for it.
"Why do you think I'm here?" he asks, folding his arms across his chest.
"To make my life more difficult," she retorts, causing him to crack a smile as he nears her just a little more. She's not wrong, but she brought this on herself.
"Only with the best of intentions. All of this could have been avoided had you just said something and explained yourself," he tells her in a knowing tone.
And that's the thing. He could have gone on a little longer had she told Tamaki that classes were challenging and she needed time away to focus. But when she didn't respond back to him, especially when he took the time to ask, she caused her own doom. He sees the moment she understands this fact as her eyes light up, but then she grows more somber.
"You were worried about me," she muses in her infuriating way of seeing through him and calling him out in the process.
"Of course I am," he says, not bothering to hide it. The temptation to be close to her after so long is too much to resist; he removes the distance between them, feeling like they are two ends of a magnet that can't help but be attracted to one another.
She doesn't shy away from him like he feared she would. Instead, she strains to be as tall as him, observing him closely. "Then why didn't you say so?" she queries softly.
He's not about to pour his heart out in a text! She is unbelievable sometimes. Never mind that he could have said more, but he was still dealing with the pain of rejection caused by her not responding back.
His voice is tight with tension as he tries to hide the depth of his true feelings. Without thinking, he leans in. "Why didn't you respond? I was waiting for an opening that you never gave me," he explains, barely above a whisper at the end.
Why does his voice get quiet like that? He is hurt, but he doesn't want her to know. This whole conversation isn't going as he planned, spinning wildly out of his control. It's beginning to feel like a lover's spat, even though they're not dating.
"But we've never been ones for the boring pleasantries over text," she reminds him gently, tilting her face up.
"And you've never been one to ignore your friends. There's a first for everything," he says, hoping to redirect away from himself by showing a small modicum of his hurt feelings by reminding her of what she did to him.
Part of him really wants to look away, to not be studied so closely by her, as he's afraid she'll discover the true nature of his feelings and then be scared away. The larger part of him lives for this moment, to be the center of her attention and to be so close to her.
"Why, though?" she persists quietly, pursuing him in ways few do. Her eyes are unblinking and unflinching, taking him in.
He leans in further, affected by the soft quality of her voice. It feels so intimate between them, their bodies close but never quite touching. "I already admitted to being concerned about you," he says, hoping that's enough.
It's not. "But you never text, and you're usually honest and to the point. Why not ask me directly?" she questions, biting her lip before adding, "Why not come ask me yourself?"
His mind is blown at the idea that he could have gone to her all this time, and he groans in frustration, finally closing his eyes and breaking the spell between them as Haruhi puts up a hand to pause Tamaki's protests. When Kyoya meets her gaze again, she hasn't moved, still watching him carefully. She won't rest until she knows the whole truth, so he hopes that he can end this conversation and get her the help she needs by being honest.
"I didn't know I was allowed to see you; I assumed I was in the same category as Tamaki," he explains with contrition. A note of wistfulness enters his voice. "I didn't know where I stood, if I was just your friend, or a close friend who can say all that."
Surprise registers on her face, but she recovers quickly, starting by ruefully saying, "You never let our friendship status prevent you from doing or saying as you pleased in the past. You shouldn't now; I consider you a close friend."
Relief washes through him at having that distinction with her. It's a start. He doesn't know how to explain that his behavior and motivation is different now compared to Ouran, as there are higher stakes here.
Relaxing his shoulders, he decides to just go for it and challenge her. "And as your close friend, I'm worried about you. You need help. You need a tutor for business."
That's all he wants to do, to help her and be with her. He'd really like to dive into this tension between them, but now is not the time.
She studies him yet again before her lips thin. "I'll only accept help if you're the one providing it," she replies, playing into his hand at last.
If she wants to push back, thinking he will balk at the extra time with her, she's about to discover just how wrong she is.
"Good. I wouldn't trust anyone but myself with you. We start today," he declares, making both Haruhi and Tamaki cough in shock.
"You're not going to charge her, right?" asks Tamaki, drawing their attention at last.
It's becoming easier and easier to forget about Tamaki in these tense moments, but he also wonders why Tamaki isn't interrupting more. It's a question for another day.
"Of course not. She's one of my closest friends," states Kyoya, as though that should be obvious.
"But you're going to be taking a lot of time to help me," she says, shoulders bunching below her troubled features. "I'm not a charity case. I can afford to pay you–"
"I won't accept it from you. You're my friend; you'd do the same thing if I asked you for help...and don't you dare try to deny it," he says, voice threatening. When she nods in agreement, he smiles and lets his good mood color his next words, excited to have quality time with Haruhi at last. "I have to leave to grab my supplies, but I'll be back in an hour to begin."
"But what merit are you getting out of this?" she asks, eyeing him carefully.
"Knowing you're less stressed, able to sleep, and staying at our university since you're keeping your scholarship," he says glibly. "I will ensure it." He turns more serious as he leans in once more. "Most of all, though, the pleasure of your company. Any time with you and talking is time well spent."
"Oh." Stepping back, she nods thoughtfully. "Thank you."
It seems she wanted honesty, and since he gave it to her, she backed off. There's something freeing about being honest with her, even if it also terrifies him. He didn't know if she would be happy with such a reason, but she is.
Kyoya leaves after that, and Tamaki with him. Once they're outside, Tamaki stops them, a somber look on his face. "Thank you for being so honest with Haruhi; she listens to you in a way she doesn't to me. I'm glad we went to see her today."
Kyoya is slightly taken aback, not expecting any of that. Tamaki seems to have no issue with being convinced to go see Haruhi after so slight a conversation or being ignored for the most part, and it blows Kyoya's mind how his friend feels the need to jump in so often and yet steps back in other moments. There is much he still needs to learn about Tamaki, and about Haruhi if she does in fact listen to him. But he will dwell on that detail later, when alone.
"As am I. Thank you for going with me," says Kyoya.
Once he returns to Haruhi, she has his favorite takeout ready for him, and he's pleased she remembered.
"We should start at the beginning," she says as they sit down. "The only things I know are what you've explained to me previously."
He doesn't mind one bit, and the semester turns into his favorite one yet as he spends at least four days a week with her, explaining and drilling information into her mind. At first, it's focused on discussing business, but the more she learns, the easier it becomes for them to get off topic. Soon, they're just chatting at each meetup for the first couple hours before she shows him her completed work, proving how well she has learned the material from him.
This is what he wanted, the easy flow of conversation without Tamaki. A chance for her to see him as a true friend and partner as they mesh together in these moments. Between these meetups and their snatches of conversation at social events, he's had a lot of alone time with her.
When the semester draws to a close, Kyoya is sad to have no excuse to spend time with Haruhi anymore.
"Congrats on finishing at the top of your class. You turned it around well," he tells her proudly as they meet to compare grades.
He wants to just ask her to spend time with him without any reason, especially now that schoolwork is paused.
As he debates asking her, wondering if she'd be open to such a frivolous use of their time, she surprises him in the best way possible.
"Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you, Kyoya." She pauses, and he can tell she has more to say, so he waits patiently. "Is your offer to help me shop for clothes still on the table?"
Joy rocks through him, and he answers her immediately, unwilling to let this opportunity pass him by. "Of course." He tries to temper himself and remember his cool detachment as his face and voice become aloof. "When were you thinking?"
"I start working full time tomorrow, so the weekend," she states, walking toward him. "Is that good for you? I know we don't have studying that we can do anymore, but I'd still like to spend more time with you."
His heart beats faster because she wants the same thing as him. She gives him an inch, and he's ready to take a mile, stepping forward to meet her halfway. "My weekend is open for you."
He had plans both days, but those he can reschedule. She's his first priority.
She understands how precious his time is since she has seen how busy he can be and how little time she has for herself; she ducks her head briefly. "That means a lot," she says, smiling widely. "You don't open your schedule for just anyone."
"No, I don't. You're worth it, though," he says, pleased when she blushes. "I know there will be times when studying takes precedence, but as long as we're hanging out, you're my only focus."
And he expects to be her center of attention, even if it is unsaid. With the way she acts when they're alone, though, he already knows he will be.
"I want that most of all," she responds, stepping closer. "Your time and undivided focus are hard to come by."
The urge to reach out and touch her cheek has never been stronger, but they're not at that place yet. Soon, he decides. First, he will start by holding her hand, so he begins looking for the right moment.
"You'd be surprised how easy it is for you to command it. All you have to do is ask," he says, hoping she takes the bait.
By some miracle, she does. Is it his imagination, or do her eyes light up? "Then meet me tomorrow after work at your restaurant of choice. We'll compare work days," she says, and he gives her a time after he finishes his meetings.
It sounds like a date; he wishes it could be. A whole night of talking with her sounds like the best way to spend an evening, and if this is her way of challenging him, then he accepts it, ready to meet almost every night, even after social gatherings. Some days have smaller gaps than others, but that works out for both of them since they both need alone time.
After he names a place, they walk back to her apartment and chat until late. When they have dinner together – at a casual place with owners who have discretion – the next day, their schedules manage to match up a bit despite their prior arrangements, and they stay until the restaurant closes. Each night they meet ends like that, talking easily until they're forced to go their separate ways for bed. He flourishes in the sunlight of her attention, greedily taking all she offers now, and it puts him in a very good mood when they finally meet for shopping.
"What made you decide to buy more clothes?" he asks as they enter the first shop.
"I finally have money, and I am getting tired of wearing some of those crazy Hitachiin clothes," she admits, causing him to laugh.
"I can't say I'm surprised," he replies, closing the door behind her. "This is a good shop to start. Let me do the talking."
She trusts him, so she lets him do just that. The problem is that he walks in first, with her slightly behind him, and as a result, both the male and female assistants go to him, facing away from Haruhi and effectively shutting her out. Because it's Haruhi, she frowns slightly, and Kyoya is not happy.
He specifically wore his most expensive yet least pretentious outfit today, and the store workers appreciate it and the way it fits him. They smell the money on him, but since Haruhi chose to dress in a nice blouse and jeans, she is ignored. Another woman approaches Haruhi soon after, trying to separate them, and that is when Kyoya knows he must act: they all assume he and Haruhi are not together.
"Excuse me. She's with me," he states smoothly with a winning smile, causing all of them to apologize as he gently lays a hand on Haruhi's arm.
Prudently he doesn't touch her very long, just enough to make a point, and the male assistant leaves to help another customer. Soon, the effusive apologies become flattery and probing questions. After chatting a little with the two young women about pleasantries and what he is looking for, he is pleased to see the pair work quickly to provide some reasonably priced clothing that Haruhi would actually wear. He really enjoys watching her show off each outfit. She always looks good in the outfits, and her joy at finding decent articles of clothing for work satisfies his need to help her.
As Haruhi moves in and out of the dressing room, the helpers continue to draw Kyoya into conversation, one making some paltry attempts at flirting that he politely ignores. Once Haruhi decides on what she wants, then he smiles warmly at the assistant and chats her up until they receive a nice, little discount, and the next few shops are more of the same.
Even if he walks beside Haruhi into the store, he is given all the immediate attention. Haruhi notes the treatment with varying faces of annoyance and surprise, and he takes the difference in stride, knowing that is how society works sadly. He takes a certain joy in being able to tell everyone that he's with Haruhi, but the most joy for him comes during the trying on of clothes, mostly because she looks good in all of them and he loves hearing her commentary about how absurd some of the garments are.
By the fifth boutique, though, Haruhi cringes slightly when a buxom sales lady strolls up to them and flirts openly with Kyoya. It isn't the first time that day that one of the women tries to hit on him, but this one is more obvious, so he assumes that Haruhi is tired of seeing more Ouran-level flirting.
He's not surprised that the women are hitting on him, as he is used to it. Even when he says that he is with Haruhi, they all seem to assume that they are only together as friends, giving them an excuse to flirt. After he endures fifteen minutes of trying to stay pleasant yet tell her he doesn't want to date her, which is hard to do when the woman is persistent, Haruhi steps in unexpectedly, just barely walking in front of him.
"Excuse me, but we came in together to look for some clothes, and all you've managed to do is learn that he isn't interested in anything for himself. He's here for me," she states, folding her arms across her chest. "Could we please redirect this conversation?"
Together? His heart and pulse go erratically at the mention, as it could be taken so many ways. He's never tried to imply they are a couple openly like this, and now here she is, trying to rush things along. Is it only to save him from the bad flirting, or is it something else? Was there a need for her to step forward like that? Were it any other woman, he might think Haruhi was jealous, but it couldn't be that. He cannot allow himself to hope like that. The assistant gives the briefest of icy glares to Haruhi, which makes him wonder if there is in fact some kind of territorial thing happening.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you could be with him. You didn't look it," says the woman, pouting and moving away from Haruhi before facing Kyoya again. "So what are you looking for?"
He'd like nothing more than to leave the store and not give it any business because she said such a thing to Haruhi, but given that they have good evening wear and are close to his family, he will ensure that her employment is cut short since she dared to insult someone connected to an Ootori.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Haruhi's eye roll from where he is, and he reaches out a hand in gratitude, barely touching her cool skin. It's just the lightest acknowledgement, but it sets him at ease in ways he didn't think were possible, knowing he could touch her. When her fingers brush against his palm, it's the best day of the year hands down, and the hope of holding hands with her becomes likely to happen. When the worker notices and scrunches her nose in distaste, she is lucky that he is in such a good mood.
Were he not, he'd call her boss right in front of her. As it is, he will ensure she is never hired at any fashion shop again. That he silently promises.
"We are looking for evening gowns and other clothing appropriate for a party," he states, giving Haruhi's measurements and color preferences.
The woman still refuses to look at or acknowledge Haruhi, but she finds outfits and puts them in a private room for Haruhi, purposely bringing out a couple items meant for more busty women, as well as some very short ones that don't fit Haruhi's preferences at all. Lucky for her, the few she does bring out fit well and look great on Haruhi. As more outfits are brought out, the woman finally speaks to Haruhi.
"You say it's a good fit, but it's not daring at all. How are you supposed to stand out with such a man beside you when dressed like that? He wouldn't like that."
The woman's voice of disdain combined with her nose in the air are about all that Kyoya can handle. He strides to the pair of women and places hands on Haruhi's shoulder and the small of her back, turning her so she faces a mirror. As soon as he touches her, her rigid posture softens, and he is pleased.
"Haruhi, you look refreshingly tasteful," he compliments with a smile. "That's a good choice. I like it a lot."
"Thank you," she replies, smiling back through the mirror. "I like it, too."
"You should buy it," he encourages before leaving her and giving the assistant a cold glance.
Despite his covert warning, the helper still criticizes and suggests other things since she doubts that Kyoya would like everything that actually looks good on Haruhi.
And each time, he says otherwise.
He's never seen such poor behavior, and the height of it comes when the saleswoman brings out a long, backless, black dress, the thin straps the sort of thing that Kyoya would love to put on and take off of Haruhi, and images of her dancing in his arms in that dress make him warm all over.
The problem, of course, is that it's not something Haruhi would ever choose, and he knows it. All the same, he looks at it longingly, just for a moment.
"I think you should try this one. I think your gentleman friend would appreciate this one on you, if you were feeling brave, though I doubt you are," says the woman, and he can't tell if he wants to thank or strangle her for saying that.
"I'll try it," replies Haruhi testily, drawing surprised looks from both onlookers as she steps forward and grabs the garment. "Just to be different from my other choices."
He can't believe his luck. Suddenly, he is a little more disposed toward the woman, but he still is planning her imminent demise. What little good humor he has is lost when the helper stands right in front of him, chest in his face.
"Most men would find that type of dress very sexy, right?" she asks, arms going under her breasts. "I know I own a similar dress."
"It's a nice dress, but it all depends on who wears it and how it is worn. All it takes is the wrong person to ruin a good dress," he states icily, his gaze hard and chilling.
She doesn't seem the least bit fazed. "Oh yes. I enjoy going out to such parties and wearing my dress. I'm surprised I never see you."
"I'm sure it is because we run in very different circles," he retorts, voice tight. "My family has very high expectations for the woman I marry, not found in your circles."
His faithful assistant's face falls slightly, but she quickly raises her nose and shakes her head at Haruhi. "I'm sure. Nothing you find in here. You need an accomplished woman, one with a thorough knowledge of music, dancing, proper dress, and the modern culture to deserve the word, and besides all this," she prattles blithely, rolling her hips, "she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."
He moves to tell her off, but that is when Haruhi chooses to slam the door open, drawing both of their attention as she approaches. Just like that, all words fail him, as she presents a vision the likes of which he has never seen. The scooped neckline is good for her chest, and the length shows off her toned legs and ankles. What little curves she has are set off well by the black dress that hugs her, and he decides that if she won't buy it, he will.
What he didn't notice before was that there is a slit on her right side that goes most of the way up, stopping at her thigh, and his cock stirs in his pants, suddenly hard for her. All he wants is to take her somewhere alone, put a pretty family necklace around her neck, and hold her against him. He's pretty sure his mouth is hanging wide open, and he can't be bothered to care, at first because he is too turned on and later because Haruhi's face is thunderous as she marches to them, stopping in front of the woman.
She has every right to be upset after being so insulted. He feels secondhand humiliation for Haruhi, but now she won't stand for it. She came to fight, and he has never been more attracted to her.
"I'm not sure why you continue to flirt with him even though he's made it obvious that he isn't interested in you. Do you really think devaluing me will help you? He came here with me. To help me," declares Haruhi, hands going to her hips.
Oh. Now this is an intriguing turn of events. Kyoya had never thought he'd see Haruhi jealous, but it seems today is his lucky day. If only his brain would work normally, as it is still hard for him since Haruhi is so close and looking stunning. He has seen plenty of beautiful women in his time, but none of them ever affected him the way Haruhi does. He knew he had it bad for her, and this incident demonstrates just how far gone he is.
All his arousal vanishes, though, when the assistant retorts in a catty tone, "Because clearly you are a charity case that he is condescending to help. He wouldn't be caught dead with the likes of you–"
"Excuse me," interrupts Kyoya, now done with her. "Don't put lies into my mouth. Haruhi, change quickly. We're leaving. I'll purchase all of these while you change."
Haruhi's independent streak immediately rears its ugly head as she gets defensive. "But–"
"You can pay me back later," he states, going to her, placing a possessive hand on her hip.
Just that little touch allows him to take comfort in the feel of her and draw strength to deal with this infuriating woman. He has one more scare tactic up his sleeve that he intends to use, but he wants to do it in his normal, nonchalant way, rather than barking in an undignified manner like he wants to at present. The silk and heat of her body put him at ease, and it seems to do the same to Haruhi as the fight leaves her somewhat, her eyes going soft.
When she tries to protest gently, he beats her to the punch, eyes pleading and voice strained. "Please. If only so I can buy this dress for you. Let me handle this…in my own way."
Something clicks in Haruhi's mind, and she smiles. "Alright. I'll be out shortly."
As soon as she returns to her changing room, Kyoya turns on the woman, eyes narrowed and voice dangerous as he gives her just a taste of what the low pressure demon lord could do.
"Don't you ever speak of her like that again," he growls, putting fear into her heart as her eyes widen in terror.
He heads to the counter with the other things to be purchased with ground-eating strides to the opposite side of the store. Once she runs to catch up, he states, "You seem to be the sort of woman who seeks to recommend herself to men by undervaluing others. All those things you mention are worthless to me. Do you know what does matter to me? Honesty and loyalty. Next would be someone who improves her mind with extensive reading, and clearly you don't since you're too small-minded and judge based on appearances. Haruhi will be going to law school shortly; what have you done with your life?"
She finishes ringing up the items. "I, I have done a lot–"
"Correction. You thought you did. They're all worthless now," he states, grinning as he gives her his credit card. "You crossed the wrong gentleman." When she reads his name, she pales, and he smirks, glasses glinting. "I hope you enjoy unemployment because that is the only thing you're going to be qualified for now."
"Wait, please–"
"Ring up my items. Unless you already have a passport," he says, voice threatening as he smiles.
He really loves doing that, especially now. Her head drops, and she gets everything but the dress bagged by the time Haruhi comes out. As soon as she is at his side, he slides an arm around Haruhi, wanting it to be abundantly clear how pissed off he is. Surprisingly, Haruhi lets him keep his hand on her hip until they reach his car.
As soon as they're inside and safe, he moves as close as he can to her side. Tone deadly serious, he states, "Haruhi, I know I don't need to tell you this, but don't listen to anything that viper says. She's jealous of you, and she will be dealt with."
Her eyes are sad before narrowing with worry. "What are you going to do?"
"Ensure she never works again," he answers, bringing out his cell phone and calling the owner of the shop then one other clothing store contact. "There."
Haruhi's face pales considerably the more he speaks on those two calls, and she seems to wake up when he looks at her.
"Was all of that necessary?" she asks, rubbing a hand on the back of her neck. "That extreme?"
"Because of what she said of you, yes," he replies evenly, laying a hand on top of hers. "I'm sorry. I should have stopped her much sooner. I didn't think she'd get worse."
"How were you supposed to know? All the other women today eventually laid off because they could take a hint," she says before her brow furrows. "I do have one question, though. All the charm on your end today, what purpose did it serve? It seemed like you talked to them more than you talked to me."
He silently curses himself, upset that he came across that way. That was not the intention, so now he must do damage control.
"I apologize. That shouldn't have been the case." He pulls his hand away and sits across from her so he can face her. "The first reason is because it's been drilled into me since a young age to be polite and charming. The more important reason is the cost savings," he explains, bringing out his notebook and showing her the various prices of the stuff she bought, when they first saw it and when finally charged. "As you can see, most were reduced by twenty-five to fifty percent."
"Oh." She stares at the ledger, moving fingers as she counts up exactly how much he saved her. "Wow."
"And most of the time, without any mention of my family, although some may have recognized me," he says, shrugging. "Either way, it was meant to help you."
She sniffs then closes her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. "I've only been away from Host Club for three years. You'd think I'd be used to or desensitized to such displays now. I'm not sure why I overreacted."
He has one idea, but he'd never mention it aloud. Not now. He pats her knee. "I'm sure it's because all of them assumed things about you, me, and us. She insulted and ignored you, Haruhi. You have every reason to be embarrassed and upset."
"But still…usually I rise above it." Raising her head, she smiles at him before leaning back in her seat. "Today has been a curious day. Productive, but also enlightening."
"Enlightening how?" he asks warily, tensing up.
As long as she doesn't doubt him and their friendship, he'll be fine. He doesn't know what is going on in that head of hers, though. She is a mystery that he still yearns to examine and solve, even if he knows he never will.
"Well, I always believed appearances don't matter. After what I went through in high school, I still foolishly thought they really don't matter. Today's excursion has taught me otherwise." She looks out a window, eyes far away. "I've never felt so judged, and now that I've seen it, I'm sure I've experienced it at work as well." She focuses back on him, a small smile in place. "I've learned a valuable lesson today, one I needed. It was a hard one, but I will be much better and stronger for it. Thank you for that," she says, sandwiching his hand by placing one of hers on top of his. "You finally showed me why and how clothes and all that matter to these people, and even if I think they're wrong, I'll play by their rules."
Letting out a sigh of relief, he smiles as well. "That wasn't my intention, but I'm glad it is clear now."
"You realize that I'm going to be asking you more questions now, right?" she warns him seriously, leaning in.
"I expect nothing less. I'll add it to your social debt," he says dryly, making her laugh.
When the levity passes, she continues, "I learned about you as well. Many things, some unexpected." He grows uncomfortable as she looks at him with those x-ray eyes that see right through him, and he fears he was too obvious. "I sometimes forget that you've dated and are going against your family's wishes even now by not dating. It's wise to focus on your studies and work, though." She seems at ease about that, so he relaxes, knowing he didn't reveal anything. "I dated Tamaki, and I'm glad I did, even if I wish I had timed it better. It drained me."
His ears perk up, having never had a conversation about her failed relationship with Tamaki. He was too afraid of revealing himself. "When you care about someone, that happens," he says, using his other hand to sit on top of hers.
"I always knew you cared about me, ever since the beach incident. I just never knew how much until today," she observes, eyes softening. "Privately, it was clear since you always make time for me, and time is precious. But in public, you've always kept your distance…until today."
He gulps, still worried about what she saw, even if he is more determined to spend more time with her in public. "Today was special."
"I know, and I liked it a lot more than I expected to," she says, nodding at their hands. "After the excess of affection from dad, Tamaki, and Mitskuni, this is more like what I prefer." Blushing, she's quick to add, "Not that I expect this all the time, or anything."
"But sometimes it would be okay," he intuits aloud, hope rising when she smiles. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Thank you for all you did for me today. It's much easier to accept all of it when I know you care deeply, just as I do about you. You're my closest friend," she says, reminding him of how far he still has to go. "What I don't understand is why you like that last dress on me."
"You looked stunning," he says, remembering the moment when she stepped out. Reluctantly he removes his hands from her, knowing it is going on too long. He has no intention of telling her that he doesn't want anyone but himself escorting her if she wears that dress, but he can ensure she waits, based on her doubt. "If you don't believe me, wait a year or two. Save it for a special occasion. Just tell me when you do so I can give you a necklace befitting that dress."
"I doubt I'll wear it much. I don't like it, but I'll keep that in mind," she replies, grinning. "I'll ask to wear it when you're escorting me to a party. No one else will like it."
He disagrees, but he's not about to argue that with her. That would result in too animated a discussion.
"We'll agree to disagree, and speaking of parties," he says, trailing off, "graduation is in several days."
"I'm excited for it! I'll be there and watching with the rest of the Hosts," she tells him, face lighting up.
He knew she was going to be at his graduation, but there is a much bigger event afterward that is worrying. "Later that night, my family is hosting a small party to celebrate Tamaki and I graduating. I'd like it if you would come."
"I'd love to! What should I wear?" she asks, and the rest of the car ride discusses the party.
On the day of graduation, Kyoya graduates at the top of the class, Tamaki just behind him. At Ouran, he gave way to Tamaki; now, he claims his spot in hopes of impressing his father. He gives a speech, and he stares in Haruhi's direction for most of it. The speech is easy, just as mingling with everyone afterward. What's difficult is when he goes back to his family home, facing questions about why he is staying in the apartment, why he isn't dating, and more. He carefully avoids giving away anything until he can escape at the first sign of the Hosts arriving.
As he excuses himself to greet them, his father peers out and notices them. "I'm glad you're still close to all of them. You've done well in that respect."
That is the first praise he received from his father all day, and he's not sure if he is upset or happy that his father only compliments him on his friends. He did everything expected, and more, all in his own signature way, and still his father isn't happy.
"I'm beginning to think he'll never be happy," he mutters to himself as he walks toward his friends.
For a time, Kyoya forgets all about his father and enjoys himself with his friends. Haruhi is radiant as she laughs at all the jokes of the twins, and all are in good humor as they toast Kyoya and Tamaki. The whole Host Club is reunited publicly for this special occasion, even Renge and the second generation of Hosts, and everyone compliments them since they all listened to Tamaki's badgering to wear matching colors. Red suit coats, vests, ties, and more make the group stand out as they fan out and own the room.
In moments like this, Kyoya is glad to see that some things never change. The twins still are close and are up to their usual shenanigans with Tamaki and Haruhi, whispering to one or the other when not clutching a brother dramatically. Haruhi talks to all while Tamaki is all demonstrative arm waving and flowery words for whoever he speaks to. Mori is tall and stoically handsome as always, but now he has two shorter people around him, Hunny and Hunny's wife, Reiko. Even Renge gets into it, chatting animatedly with Tamaki and Haruhi at different points, and sneaking out her opera glasses to enjoy the party.
Nothing brings Kyoya greater joy than seeing Fuyumi actively seek out Haruhi and watching them bond, even if Tamaki joins in since he and Fuyumi are thick as thieves, wanting to discuss more commoner things with Haruhi. At some point, Renge joins in, and then it becomes a circus as Renge's marketing ideas mesh with Tamaki's imagination. Fuyumi only enables with encouraging words.
Of course, Haruhi sneaks away as soon as she can to join the sedate group of Mori, Hunny, and Reiko, and Kyoya observes it all, talking to them as much as he can when family acquaintances aren't around, offering congratulations.
Toward the end of the night, after he has received one too many hugs from Tamaki, he needs quiet and peace, and without thinking, he finds Haruhi.
"Will you come with me for a moment?" he whispers, head inclined and eyes steadily looking into hers. "I need air, and I suspect you do as well."
Her smile widens. "I do," she agrees, following behind him.
She's wearing one of her newer dresses from the twins, a long, red one with accents of different colors around the skirt. Her heels clack noisily behind him until they're on the stone patio, and as soon as he closes the curtains behind them for privacy, she shucks her shoes.
"Finally," they breathe in unison, smiling at one another because they share the same thought.
For this brief moment, he can unwind and stop trying to please anyone but himself. If he smiles now, it is because he wants to, because Haruhi brings it out in him more often than not. He loves watching her make circles to bring feeling back to her poor feet before resting beside him, their backs to the railing and eyes on the yellow light that glows through the thin curtains. He can feel her warmth and presence, and she makes him relax far more than an expensive massage ever could.
Leaning against the railing, he closes his eyes. "This is much better."
"I agree. Thanks for thinking of me. It was nice to see Renge again as well," she says, and he opens his eyes in time to see her shake her head, no doubt remembering the scene they left.
"She was always someone I respected for her business acumen, and she continues to do that today," he says, meeting her gaze. "At least now she doesn't try to suggest we're dating, or worse, engaged."
"She still cares about you, just as she does everyone. She asked me something, though, that has me very curious," says Haruhi, turning her whole body to face him.
Frankly, he's worried. Renge likes to meddle where she doesn't belong, especially when it comes to relationships, so he tenses as he faces his best friend. "What is that?"
All tension leaves him at once as soon as she speaks.
"What would you like for a graduation gift?" asks Haruhi, taking in his whole face. "Not from her, just from me."
Gifts are something that neither does frequently since she is too cheap and he prefers to show his love and friendship in other ways. In his life, presents are always shallow, flashy things that he sees as frivolous and a waste of time and money.
Everything is different when it's Haruhi asking him, though. She's genuinely curious, and he actually wants to think of something meaningful for her.
He immediately dismisses the thought of kissing her, even on the hand, as he doesn't want to add friction to the comfortable beginning of their showing physical affection to one another.
But what else? After thinking about it for a few minutes, the answer shows itself, and he lifts his hand to her. "I want you to hold my hand. That's what I really want."
He doesn't want or need much, really. All he knows is that his life is about to change in a big way as he leaves the safety of college and works full-time with the family zaibatsu. He's concerned about pleasing his father and rising as he deserves, but more than that, he doesn't want to lose the close bond he has with Haruhi.
He cares about Haruhi and being first in the business more than anything else, and he doesn't want to lose either in the process of seeking to go further with them. Balance is what he needs, and he knows it in his head, but not his heart.
He just needs that boost of hope that in stretching himself for both, there will be some kind of reward at the end, and Haruhi gives him that and much more.
She grins, her eyes sparkling in the pale moonlight. Even her skin glistens, and she seems so eager to give this simple gift that she makes him forget about all his concerns and the rest of the world.
There is only her as she takes his hand, and reaches for his other one. "I can do better than that."
Lacing her fingers with his, she gives him the peace he has been seeking, and the calluses on her fingers ground him as he becomes lost in her wide, soft eyes, neither willing to speak and break the spell that falls upon them. His chest becomes light as warmth unfurls there, and he becomes transfixed when a light wind dances around them, picking up her long strands and waving them about, framing her face prettily.
It's a perfect moment, and he couldn't ask for a better gift.
They stay there until she shivers, and only then does he realize that they have probably been away too long.
For some reason, he can't bring himself to care. This is his party, after all…he should enjoy it.
They hurry inside, and after he neatly avoids all the probing questions from Hunny, Tamaki, and Renge, he distracts them all with dessert.
The party continues long into the night, and he hates that he can't take Haruhi home since he still has guests to entertain. Thankfully, Ranka – who has been enjoying himself and updating the Host Club family members – is there and takes her home when she is dead on her feet.
It's the best party Kyoya has ever hosted, and as Haruhi's father warns, "You better not be this sleepy when we have a party for you next year! I want something special for my favorite girl," Kyoya's mind whirs with ideas already to make Haruhi's graduation even better.
All his initial ideas go into his favorite black notebook for later, and he is grateful for a dedicated section so he can add to the ideas when he has time – something he has little of in the next year to come.
Right after his graduation, work at the zaibatsu only picks up, and he can already tell after the first three days that his time with Haruhi is going to be limited. As a result, at lunch time at the end of the work week, he decides to take a big risk: he texts Haruhi to ask her to have dinner at home with him.
Haruhi has been studying at the library with others the last couple nights, and he misses her. He doesn't like putting demands on her and essentially burdening her by taking her away from her studies, but he needs her. He can acknowledge that.
To his relief, she agrees at once.
When he gets home, she's already cooking dinner since she has a key, and she has a smile on her face to greet him. The door is barely closed before he drops his briefcase and goes straight to her, drinking in her presence.
"Hey, it's good to see you. You look tired," she says when he gets close.
"Full time work means they can give me that much more to do," he explains, the urge to touch her overwhelming as he stands rigidly.
"I'm not surprised. What's going on?" she asks gently, tilting her head.
How can he explain that he is simply tired and misses her? That she keeps him centered? Amidst the growing storm of work, Haruhi is his anchor, the heart that keeps him human. All he wants is to reach out, but he's already asked her to be here. Can he ask for this, too?
His mind goes into overdrive as he debates inside his head, eyeing her closest hand the whole time. All the possible scenarios he imagines are put on hold when she lifts her arm.
Her eyes are worried, and her voice shows her concern. "Kyoya, it's a simple question. Something is on your mind. Just say it, regardless of how it sounds."
Oh, Haruhi, ever the type to cut to the chase. He appreciates that.
"May I hold your hand?" he asks without a further thought.
Whatever it was she was expecting, it isn't this. One eyebrow raises, but then she is smiling and taking his hand before tugging him closer. "Of course. Is this okay?"
Just the slightest touch allows most of the tension in his body to be released. Now he can breathe normally, and she notices it.
"Yes. I got lost in my head. I've felt busy all week, but empty." His steady gaze on her falters as he recalls his week. "There was no welcoming, no acknowledgement that I'm there full-time other than the fact that they gave me much more work."
"No praise or gratitude," she surmises, drawing his attention as she looks him up and down.
All he wants to say is that this is normal, and he hates that this is the case.
"No," he replies unwillingly.
He had been hoping there would be something, even a small thing, but nothing. No word from his father. No appearance from his brothers. No acknowledgement from the board. Just more work.
"He doesn't appreciate you," she grumbles, turning toward him, "but I do. May I hug you?"
He's never heard a better idea in all his life.
"Please."
She may be smaller than him, but she is more than capable of squeezing him. Now she does, and his heart beats wildly as he absorbs her, not returning the embrace yet.
"You can hug me back, you know. I trust you not to crush me," she says against his chest.
"Thank you," he whispers before relaxing against her. "I needed this."
"So did I, if I'm being honest. Don't be afraid to ask for this and more. You deserve it and need it just like we all do," she responds, resting her cheek against his chest. "Ask anytime."
"The same goes for you," he says, tightening his grip as he rests his chin on top of her soft hair.
He can feel her smile, and all's right with the world… at least until they smell their dinner burning. They end up eating out, but neither care as they talk long into the night.
Those long nights talking are few and far between, though. His workload increases, just as her course load does, to the point that they see each other once or twice a week. Each time they hang out, though, they ask each other for permission to initiate contact. For him, each time he holds her hand or does something similar, he knows peace unlike anything else he's ever known.
As work becomes more challenging and makes him question himself, he takes great solace in physical touch. Haruhi soothes him in a way few can, and he is secretly excited when she starts contacting him – usually on days when he wants to reach out but feels it is too soon to do so. One day, he happens to go home early because he needs something, and soon after, Haruhi drops by.
"Hey, you're here. I left a notebook here last time by accident, and I need it now. I didn't realize you would be back," she explains, pointing at the table where the notebook sits. "Could I come in?"
He grins at the surprise extra time with her and moves aside. "Sure. Make yourself at home. My dinner is arriving soon if you're hungry; you're welcome to some of it."
If anything would tempt her into staying with him, it would be food, and he is rewarded when she perks up and pauses after grabbing her notebook. Moments later, she faces him.
"I can't stay long; I have another study group in an hour." She gives him the sternest look warning him that she must be on time, and then she smiles. "I am a little hungry, though, so thank you."
"The carry-out should be here very soon," he adds, approaching her. "It's good to see you."
"Same," she replies, eyeing him before stretching out a hand to him. "May I?"
"Anytime," he responds quickly, lacing his fingers with hers, the pads of her fingers warm.
"Thanks. They're overloading me, and they don't care that multiple other classes have work due the same day. My group is great, but it's still grueling," she admits softly, looking down as she steps in closer and rests her forehead on his chest. "This helps."
For that reason alone, he tries to go home on time every day after that, even if he knows he will have to work from home later. If he can just get a little time with Haruhi, everything is that much easier, and he hopes that she will have some reason to come home in the evening, even if only briefly. As it turns out, she keeps finding reasons, sometimes forgetting or losing things or else needing a place to stay for an hour or so in between meetings.
What starts as one or two long meetups turns into short meetings most of the rest of the days, and soon, Haruhi stops giving a reason for why she comes over. She just does, and he doesn't mind a bit.
"Haruhi. You're just in time," he greets when she enters one day.
He had just set out his dinner, and when he looks at her, he sees a familiar burnt-out expression on her face that he knows well from college.
"I was hoping. I ran out of food, and I haven't had time to go grocery shopping yet. There's too much to do," she grumbles, setting down her bag. "I'll have time soon."
If she's saying that, usually that means that she has a lot due soon, or else she is caught up for the night and has much more coming soon that she is expecting herself to finish early. Either way, she needs a break; the circles under her eyes tell him she isn't sleeping much.
"You know, if you asked me, I'd have someone shop for you, and then you could pay me back," he states, going to her. "Then it's one less thing to worry about."
"No, I can do this. I can," she insists stubbornly, shoulders tight and body rigid.
The urge to comfort her and speak some sense into her makes him forget momentarily about their unspoken rule to ask permission. He firmly cups her cheek, and the warmth of her soft skin seeps into him as she leans into him, their eyes locked on one another.
"But you're tired and have much to do. You don't have to do everything," he reminds her. "I'm here."
Her tired, headstrong expression turns defensive. "You're just as busy as me."
"I always have time for you," he returns, causing her whole body to shiver. "You matter to me," he whispers, rubbing his thumb along her cheek. He does it a few more moments before he realizes what he is doing, and he blinks hard. "And yet I'm doing this. I'm sorry for not respecting your boundaries."
He starts to pull away, but she surprises him, clamping down on his hand. "If anyone respects me and my boundaries, it's you. You care, and you responded. You don't have to ask; you can just do it, whether for my sake or yours," she encourages, eyes bright. "Right now, I need it, just like I need other things." Giving him an apologetic look, she adds, "Or need to hear them."
"You do," he says, grateful for her permission, even if it feels strange. "Right now, you should enjoy dinner with me, give me a list of food to buy, and then stay here for a while. You need a night off." He brings his other hand up, freezing and rethinking before finally resting against her other cheek. "Please."
She wars with herself, and he watches the conflict in her eyes. As soon as he caresses her with his thumbs again, though, she folds. Closing her eyes, she inhales and exhales deeply. "Alright." Opening her eyes again, she shows her gratitude with a small smile. "Thank you. Seriously, don't feel bad about doing this. We never deny each other physical contact, and we both know when we need it." She smiles a little wider. "This is good."
Relief floods through him as he silently acknowledges that she's right. He would never stop her and vice versa. "It is. So you'll stay?"
She nods, and he feels lighter than ever, as though he is truly seen and heard. That he is worth acknowledging, whether by word or touch. Most importantly, as the weeks go by, she reinforces the idea that he is deserving of affection. He was so used to seeking approval only from his father and never receiving it. It was so easy to think he was worth none of it, and now Haruhi is slowly reprogramming his brain whenever she pats his arm or takes his hand.
The contrast between his father and Haruhi when it comes to affection becomes especially obvious when he is given his first chance to provide direction for the zaibatsu by his father. It's a test, so he researches and agonizes over his idea to the point of losing sleep for a whole week…only to be laughed at and told by his father that his idea is too new, too bold, and would never be accepted.
Once again, he had failed to live up to his father's high expectations, and when he tells Haruhi the bad news, she insists on him taking the rest of the day off. He does so unwillingly until he gets home and finds Haruhi already there, making his favorite comfort meal.
If there was any doubt in his mind that Haruhi would not drop everything for him, there's none now. They chat about other topics while making food and eating it, but once the meal is over, they sit next to each other on the sofa. His hands are folded in his lap, and he can see that she wants to ask him for more details since he hasn't told her much about the idea or problem. It's painful, though, and he hates being so vulnerable. All the same, the caring look in her eyes tells him that she won't think less of him and that she will listen.
It's the realization that she will actually listen to him that finally gets him to open up. It would be a first for the day. He explains the context and problem at the company that causes the need for a new solution before explaining his idea and design.
"Despite carefully laying it all out and showing how a new direction could help us, he completely dismisses me. Ignores me," he says bitterly, looking away. "I think he wanted me to say something just so he could push his reason to stay with the same old solution that got us into this mess to begin with."
Fists clenched and heart hammering with swirling emotions of defeat, disgust, anger, and shame, he stews until Haruhi reaches to her left to comfort him, one hand on top of his hands and the other on his arm. Suddenly, all the nasty emotions are gone, and peace washes over him as her touch calms the clamoring in his heart.
"Tell me more about your idea. What other benefits does it have?" she prompts, sliding her fingers in between his clenched ones.
He brightens at her wanting to hear more about his idea. The more he talks to her and feels her little fingers on his arm, the more he realizes that his idea is really good.
"All of what you suggested makes sense to me. Your father is too stuck in the past and clinging to old ideals to appreciate what you said," states Haruhi at the end. That is the first seed of doubt in his father that she plants, and she only doubles down by adding, "If he can't understand your wisdom and progress, it's not a reflection on you. You're doing the right thing and trying to take the company in the right direction. You care too much to let the business fail."
Having his father's approval and running the zaibatsu had always been the plan; it's only natural that he would suggest doing things that would ensure its continued success and growth. Her last words are the reminder that he needs to come to terms with the situation, as he is sure in time that he will be proven right.
"You're right. It seems I must continue to play the long game to achieve my goal. Thank you for listening and giving me hope," he replies, squeezing her hand.
In the months that follow, there are plenty more opportunities for Kyoya to encourage Haruhi to let him help her and for Haruhi to reinforce that he has good ideas and should be listened to, not to mention deserving of affection. By the time that Haruhi's graduation day approaches, he's certain that she spends more time awake at his place than her own, and the depth of his feelings for her has only increased. It makes him especially desirous to give her the best graduation day imaginable, and because he is in charge of coordinating the party, it goes off without a hitch.
Because it's Haruhi, she only wants people she knows to attend, but her father and the twins overrule her with their grand ideas that Tamaki and Kyoya encourage. The decorations are colorful per the twins' request, and few in number to please Haruhi. Nothing but the best fancy tuna is available all night, along with all the strawberries and desserts imaginable, with bento boxes for party favors. Ranka is in his element, twirling about and welcoming all to the twins' mansion.
After giving a rousing valedictorian speech earlier, Haruhi is serene in her pink and blue dress, the colors a callback to one of the twins' favorite pranks that they played on her. Every one of the Hosts wears blue or pink to complement her, and this year, Tamaki arrives with Renge on his arm, the two now dating. Better yet, Reiko is pregnant, so Mori and Hunny dote on her. Fuyumi attends with Kyoya per Haruhi's request, and there are games and loud noises everywhere as the twins encourage all the partygoers to have fun.
Tonight, Kyoya makes an effort to stay nestled between his friends, never far from Tamaki or Haruhi. His friendship with Kaoru had him indulging in blind darts with the quiet twin earlier, and he bides his time with Haruhi until he can find the right moment. When he does, he places a hand on Haruhi's wrist, and she goes with him without a word, a new, unspoken language having developed between them amidst the growing amount of touches and the exhaustion of one year.
Now as Haruhi graduates, he feels as though he is on a much better footing with her, that even though they spent less time together, all of the time was spent well. Now, she knows when his need is urgent, or if he is tired and frustrated.
Tonight is one of those special nights, though, because everything is different at this party. Time is suspended, their concerns far away, and he is happy. Happy to see her graduate and moving on to law school, looking beautiful and smiling at him with certain looks saved for him alone. This time, when his skin touches hers, it is gentle and warm with joy, yet firm from his resolve to steal a moment with her. She follows as much because he requested it as she wishes to escape.
They've visited the twins' home many times over the years, so he leads her through the maze of corridors to a covered patio that is darker and more hidden. Out here, the music and voices are muted, and the warm breeze entices him to loosen his tie and embrace the carefree air surrounding them. As he works, Haruhi ditches her heels triumphantly and whirls around once, as much to spread her cramped toes as to enjoy how the dress ruffles fly about. She may not love dresses or care about feeling feminine, but she can at least appreciate a nice dress now thanks to the twins.
When she catches her breath, her cheeks are high with color, and she is breathing heavily, smiling joyfully at him. Her breaths become louder as he prowls closer, too attracted to her to resist staying away, and she traces each step forward with her eyes, her little step toward him the only indication that she welcomes his advances.
He feels so seen by her in the best of ways, and as the heat rises between them – and not at all because of the outdoors – he reaches for his dress shirt with slow movements. Her eyes follow him closely, mouth gaping as he undoes the top button, and just that tiny bit of skin shown causes pink to tint her cheeks prettily.
She is a vision with bangs framing her face and moonlight bathing her bare shoulders in its softness, and he can't stop thinking about kissing her. His eyes gravitate toward her lips, and when he steps in front of her, her breath catches as he licks his lips.
"You don't look like you belong at this party anymore," she observes quietly, biting her lip. "You just need your hair rumpled a little to complete the look."
The thought of her touching his hair – something she's never done before – sends goosebumps along his skin. "It's your party," he says, uncaring about his appearance. "You're in charge tonight." His voice drops an octave after he leans in. "Do it, if you'd like."
He's not sure what possesses him that night, but whatever it is, it has Haruhi in its grip as well as her eyes fill with determination.
"I think I will; I've never seen your hair out of place before," she says, and he hunches to make it easier for her, all too eager to know this new form of intimacy.
She is bold as she runs her fingers through his hair once, lingering each step of the way. He's sure his hair is a mess with the way she pauses and takes her time to push the dark strands up, and he loves every second of it, wanting her to keep touching him like this. It feels incredible, and she seems to be enjoying it as well with the way she won't let go, eyes focused on his messy hair, checking his face now and then to make sure that she hasn't overstepped his boundaries.
If only she knew…she couldn't push him too far. He is far too gone for her that she could do whatever she wants, and he'd thank her for it. Whatever she gives could never be enough, as much as he hungers for her.
When she finally stops at his neck, fingers pressing firmly at his nape, he leans in, unable to help himself. It's as though she wants him closer, and he wants it just as much. She inclines her head, and it's the closest their faces have ever been. They're this close to kissing, and the realization seems to hit her suddenly as she drops her hand and backs away in the same movement.
"I'm sorry, Kyoya," she apologizes breathlessly, looking away.
Their moment is ruined, and he deflates slightly, cursing inwardly because she is still not ready to explore the feelings that are ready to explode out of him. His face and posture don't reflect any of his inner turmoil, though, because he is good at hiding his feelings, especially around her, and he won't rush her. He respects her too much, so he gives her a moment to compose herself.
As her breathing returns to normal, he fixes his shirt and tie, and he walks behind her, noting how she bunches her shoulders and stares down, like she has just returned from taking a challenging test. He hates seeing her like this, or being the cause of her discomfort. The need to comfort her causes him to act without thinking, and he reaches around her left side, long fingers resting on top of her forearm and sliding up gradually. Her eyes close with a hum, and she leans back into him, all tension gone instantly. By the time he reaches the middle of her bicep, she opens her eyes, turning her head to face him.
"Thank you. I got lost in my head there," she states, used to hearing him say that. "I'm fine now."
He lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding. "Good. So you're ready for my big question," he responds, not moving away.
She blinks rapidly. "Question? What question?"
He grins, fingers rising to her shoulder before pulling her toward him, indicating that he wants her to turn to face him. She does, studying him closely.
"The same question you asked me a year ago," he answers mysteriously, smirking. "What would you like for a graduation gift?"
"Oh."
She is blindsided as her eyes widen, but she recovers quickly, looking around once and pursing her lips. Her gaze falls on his disheveled hair, then his face and hands.
"I can't decide," she continues, seeming torn.
"Tell me both options; I'm feeling particularly generous tonight," he tells her, hoping she builds on their momentum tonight.
She hesitates then blurts out, "Either a hug or a dance. A good one," she demands, crossing her arms across her chest.
He can't believe his luck. She truly is something else, and he can't believe that he has won the jackpot tonight. Closing the distance, he opens his arms to embrace her, and he envelops her tightly, keeping her head in the crook of his neck.
She feels perfect here, like she is meant to be here, hair soft and smelling like strawberries, and when she melts into him, his breath hitches.
"Is this satisfactory?" he asks, voice choked. "Or shall I squeeze you like others we know?"
"This is…just what I wanted," she replies, raising her hands to hold his back firmly. "It's been a long year."
"It has, but I made it because of you," he says, meaning every word.
Exhaling loudly, she lifts her head until her nose just barely brushes against his bare neck. She sends flames of need surging through him from just that small contact, and he bends his knees just so he can feel her a little higher. She doesn't object, sniffing and blazing a trail up his neck, and it's the sweetest torture he's ever known.
On the one hand, he wants her to stay there forever, to explore him and know him. On the other hand, he's getting hard and doesn't want to alarm her. Willing his erection away to the best of his ability, he focuses on enjoying the moment.
"I'm glad I can lean on you, Kyoya," she whispers against his inflamed flesh. "I don't like depending on others, but it doesn't feel like a burden with you. I didn't think that could happen with you of all people."
His arousal vanishes as he hugs her a little tighter, glad that she feels thusly. She is the only reason why things make sense to him. He can talk to her about anything, and the increasing number of embraces shows how far they have come. After knowing Ranka and Tamaki for too long, both are reluctant to hug normally, but now they can with each other.
"I know, especially given our beginning. Friendship makes everything different, though," he states quietly, making her look up into his eyes. "Believe me when I say that I want this, too. Just because." He grins, and she smiles back. For a time, they stand there, and when she finally starts to loosen her grip, he changes his so he takes one of her hands and holds her hip. "Now you're going to see what happens when you don't specify enough. You get to waltz with me because that's what I want to do with you," he admits, making her smirk.
"I'm going to step on your feet," she says teasingly, and he doesn't bat an eye.
"See if I care. I'm adding it to your debt each time you do," he quips, face straight.
She laughs until he sweeps her in a circle, and she is too enchanted by his smooth moves to do more than listen to his silent lead. Each surge forward and step back sends his mind reeling as she falls in with his steps too easily, like they were meant to dance like this always.
Normally, he hates dancing, but with her, it's as natural as breathing. Each move is a chance to push against her or draw her in, and his movements get smaller as he gradually abandons the proper moves and travels in small circles, wanting to keep her close. Every time he guides her away from him, she seems reluctant to go back to her spot away, so he doesn't feel bad edging her closer.
Just when he thinks about stopping, the patio door bursts open, and Ranka appears.
"Where's my Haruhi – oh! I'm sorry," he says, face apologetic as he backs away, keeping his arms out to prevent the twins and Tamaki from approaching. "I didn't mean to interrupt you two."
Haruhi blushes, and Kyoya has never seen anything more beautiful.
She turns to face her father. "Sorry to disappear, Dad. I wanted…"
Her words run dry, and she looks to Kyoya for help. He is ready to assist and get into her father's good books even more than he already is from his weekly chats with Ranka. "We were dancing out here since it's cooler," explains Kyoya silkily, pushing Haruhi toward their friends. "I didn't want her overheating on her special night."
Ranka's hands fly to his face as he grins broadly, and Kyoya is reminded of Misuzu. Quickly he squeals, "Of course not! You take as much time as you need to cool down!" Then he runs to his daughter and squeezes her. "Daddy will get you something cold in the meantime."
"Dad, I can go with you. I'm fine now," she says, shaking her head.
"Are you sure?" He looks down worriedly and sees her determined nod, and that is all the confirmation he needs to change moods quickly. "Okay! I was missing my baby girl who has grown up so much and turned into such a beautiful lady," Ranka exclaims, demanding all compliment her as they head in.
Just before she goes inside, Haruhi meets Kyoya's gaze and mouths her thanks. After he deals with teasing and questions, he joins the party, staying away from Haruhi until he leaves for the night.
"Thank you for the gifts. I'll see you on Tuesday night?" she prompts, eyes searching for confirmation as her hand reaches for his.
"You will," he promises, taking her hand. Deciding to follow a whim that he has wanted to indulge for a while, he leans over her hand, takes it, and then kisses the back of it. Pulling up, he meets her shocked eyes. "Good night, Haruhi."
He has no regrets; her flushed face is worth it.
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading!!