Hikaru's palms were sweaty. He took them both out of his pockets, stared at them briefly, and hid them again. Panic prickled inside him. It twisted in his gut and crawled up his throat, U-turning at the last minute back into the middle of him.
He stood on the opposite pavement to the apartment and watched as the familiar sight of her walked by in the distance. She was bleary eyed with unbrushed hair and, as always, a plain face with reddened cheeks. Even from such a distance, the dark circles beneath her eyes could be seen.
And it was just how Haruhi was, the way she held herself even when she was visibly exhausted, that made Hikaru's love for her swell even more. He just wished he could help her.
"Hey! Hikaru!" called Haruhi from the other side of the road. His hiding place behind a slim tree trunk had failed. He waved at her and sauntered over despite his face becoming a violent shade of red. "What are you doing outside my place?"
"What are you doing outside your old place? Is my apartment not good enough for you?" He meant it to come out as a joke, a slight tease, but instead Haruhi frowned.
"Oh no, no of course not. We're all happy, me, Dad, and Yumi. I just wanted to check in on the place and pick up some files for work." Her tone was deeply apologetic. Hikaru felt bad.
They weren't stepping in time, nothing was in sync, and his plan was probably going to fail. But he had come this far, so he may as well go the whole way.
Once on her floor, Haruhi hesitated at the door, key hovering over the lock. Impatience prickled inside him once more, wanting her to just open the door, but he pushed it back.
"Are you okay?" He wanted to place a hand on hers but held himself in check.
Not now. Let her breathe.
"I am." Haruhi slid the key inside the lock. "I just…" She smiled at him as she turned the handle. "I'm really glad you're here."
As Hikaru blushed his heart flipped inside his chest, but Haruhi hadn't noticed. She stepped onto a pile of letters on the floor of her dark apartment.
A chill whistled down Hikaru's spine as he stepped forward, reaching a hand out to turn a light on. Though the apartment looked the same as before Hikaru couldn't help but tense at the sight of the sofa and coffee table with toys strewn across the floor. It was as if he was back here on that day, with Kaoru, playing with Yumiko, when—
"I forgot I hadn't tidied up properly." Haruhi shook her head at the mess before turning into the kitchen, flipping through the various mail, flyers, and takeaway menus.
Hikaru pulled himself out of the past. He couldn't forget that feeling of helplessness as he and his brother were beaten up by the thugs dressed in black. He vowed he'd never feel that way again.
"You know, I was thinking if you needed to find out some proper information from Miyo's dad, we'd need to be a bit more convincing." He pulled up a stool and sat across the counter from her.
"And how's that…" said Haruhi absently. She tore open several letters with bill payments before her hand landed on a pale blue envelope. It was plain and unsealed. She slipped it open and a single leaf of paper drifted on to the countertop.
You were never meant to be involved
She lifted it up to Hikaru, frowning at him. "Did you write this?"
He shook his head. "Why would I do that? Besides, it looks like a girl's handwriting."
"What makes you say that?"
"Look," he said, taking the paper from her. "It's all neat and curly." The cursive was written in black ink, a slight flourish at the ends of each letter.
Haruhi snatched it back, sliding it into the envelope. She opened the remainders of her admin, muttering under her breath. Her usual soft features were now sharp and tired, the weight of another world pushing down on her shoulders.
She muttered to herself, clearly running through a mental to-do list, and scraped the stool back.
It's either now or never, hissed his thoughts. Hikaru leant forward and held her hand gently. Her eyes widened before she smirked.
"Come on Hikaru, I haven't got time for this."
"What I was saying, was we need to be more realistic for Fielding to believe we're actually… er, engaged."
Sweaty palms pulled out a small black box from his pocket. He had barely clicked it open before Haruhi snapped it shut with her free hand.
"What are you doing." It wasn't a question. Her voice wavered on the last word.
"Relax, I'm not proposing," said Hikaru though he was sure his face was turning red. "It's nothing special."
Inside the velvet of the box sat a slim, silver ring with a cluster of small diamonds. It caught the kitchen light, twinkling up at them. Hikaru plucked it out the box and brought her left hand forward, hesitating over her fourth finger.
"I'm going to help you get to the bottom of this." He spoke softly into the darkened kitchen.
The ring touched the tip of her finger, but she didn't recoil. Hikaru looked into Haruhi's eyes—those warm, chocolate eyes he'd always sought to find since the day they met—and gently squeezed her cold hand. "I know you must be tired and scared, Haruhi. But you don't have to do it alone. I'm here, too."
She nodded.
In the hush of the quiet apartment, far up high from any noise of the city, Hikaru slipped the ring on. She wiggled her fingers, a hesitant smile spreading through her face, before an alarm blared out from her pocket.
"Oh my God, I'm late for my appointment!" She scooped up the letters and put them to one side, sliding the blue envelope in her jacket pocket.
"What about your files?" said Hikaru.
"I'll get them later." She stopped for a second to look at him, her eyes searching for something in his face, before she shook her head. "Can you lock the door for me? I'll get the keys back from you, sorry I'm just in such a rush."
And as if he hadn't placed an engagement ring on her finger, Haruhi left him in a silence that shrouded his world.
Kyouya knew he looked awful. His chin was unshaven, hair a greasy bird's nest, and the clothes he wore were not freshly laundered. In the reflection of the one-way mirror he grimaced, rubbing tired eyes beneath his glasses.
He could hear the words of his father echoing in his mind.
Such behaviour does not befit an Ootori
He had fallen through bouts of poor sleep in the night, only to wake up to a knock on the door of his apartment.
Hani had arranged for a police escort. Never had Kyouya felt more like a criminal, more uncomfortable in his own skin.
In the interview room he could barely sit still. It wasn't just the nervous energy that pulsated through his body; it stormed in his mind, shooting thoughts this way and that, arresting him of any coherent ideas.
Then, the door opened.
"Where's Yumiko?" The words left his lips before the door clicked shut.
Haruhi frowned at him before gesturing at the chairs in front of them. "Kyouya, we need to talk."
"Where is my daughter?" His voice steeled, tone grating.
As she placed her bag on the table, Haruhi ran a hand through her hair. Dark smudges circled her eyes as she wavered over the chair before sitting down.
"My dad is looking after her. Hani and I didn't think it was right to bring her to a police station."
"And what authority do you have to decide that? I'm her—"
"Yes, you're her father," cut through Haruhi. "But I'm her legal guardian. Kyouya, please, sit. We need to discuss how to move forward."
Almost defeated, Kyouya followed her outstretched hand and took the chair opposite.
And there it was, as it caught the harsh light of the interview room, a ring sparkling from her hand.
"I didn't realise a congratulations was in order."
Haruhi blinked in confusion before her eyes followed Kyouya's. A deep red bloomed across her cheeks before she hastily shrugged the ring off and dropped it into her bag.
"That's nothing, just a silly—"
"Is there something I should know?"
He'd told himself countless times the night before, in the long stretches of lying awake, that he didn't care. What did it matter if Haruhi was getting married? She was an adult, free to make her own decisions. He had nothing to do with her. In fact, if it were not for Yumiko's care arrangement, he would barely have been in contact with his old classmate.
But then that same storm in his mind shot those thoughts down as quickly as they rose.
Of course he cared. His heart brightened when she was in the same room, confusion evaporating from his mind like steam. He wanted to spend time with her, beneath an oak tree in a quiet park, underneath stars in a cool desert, asleep on their sofa with the rolling credits of a film they'd watched together.
It hurt to think of her with someone else. It hurt Kyouya to think that he could lose Haruhi simply because she didn't know just how much he cared.
"I was just trying it on. It's not important," said Haruhi.
She was lying, that much he knew. Perhaps not about being engaged, but there was definitely something hidden inside.
"Did you send me this?" She pulled out a blue envelope from her bag, revealing its contents.
Kyouya examined the note, turning the delicate piece of paper over in his hand. Aside from the cursive note on the front, there was nothing else. The writing looked vaguely familiar, almost like his sister's when she used to write him handwritten letters after she had moved away.
"Not me. Where did you find this?"
"In my apartment. I was sorting through the junk mail—there was so much after we'd moved out."
"And where are you staying now?" It was not a shock that Haruhi would have made the sensible decision to stay elsewhere after being burgled.
"Hikaru offered his place—"
Kyouya scoffed. "I'm sure that made you laugh."
She crossed her arms, a tight frown on her lips. "Why would that be funny?"
"Well, because of his silly deal with you. You know, get you to fall in love with him in under a month. That's the kind of antics the twins would pull back in the Club."
Haruhi said nothing, her gaze falling to the space between them.
"You can't be serious, you're actually living in his apartment!"
Kyouya stood up, unsure where he was going, but knowing he couldn't sit still.
"So what? Is it your business what I do with my life? What are you, some sort of shadow that always has to hang over me?"
The Shadow King
It's all your fault
You lost him, you lost her
You're losing everyone
Kyouya gripped the edge of the table, his jaws clenched. He wouldn't cry here, not in front of her, not in front of anyone.
"Yeah, that's what I am. A shadow." He pushed the chair back, careful not to look at his reflection.
"Kyouya, you can't leave. We've still got a lot to discuss."
"I was just discharged from hospital. I only wanted to see my daughter." His words came out so small and quiet.
As he moved towards the door, Kyouya paused next to Haruhi. He wanted to do it, to tell her all the things he cared about her, but it wasn't the right time.
It never was.
And besides, such behaviour did not befit an Ootori.
Sorry for the two month break, I guess it's another thing we can blame COVID-19 for! I hope everyone is well and safe :)