DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ouran.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Beta-ed by warmsugar. Feedbacks/reviews/comments are very much welcome!

ATTENTION

By Kalachuchi

It was not at all hard to catch Ootori Kyoya's attention. In fact, one simply needed to be interesting enough, amusing even, to have him take notice. It was the act of maintaining his attention that was difficult, especially if he had little to gain from it, or nothing at all. Everything was still all about merits, Kyoya never denied that fact. After all, his time was far too precious to be wasted on trivial things.

What was surprising was a certain Fujioka – now Ootori – Haruhi. Kyoya had first found her… intriguing, for lack of a better word, since she first stepped inside the Music Room and unluckily broke a vase that was worth more than she could ever imagine. And until now, strangely enough, Kyoya still couldn't get enough of her. Worthy of a record, actually. After all, there were only a few things in this world that could undoubtedly catch his full and longtime attention: Profits, Power and, now, Haruhi. He paused.

Well, maybe not exactly in that order, Kyoya had to admit. She had qualities that he would always find interesting. Indeed, Haruhi was never a boring subject.

The first thing that captured Kyoya's curiosity and made him aware of her unusual charm was her appearance. She never cared to look like anyone else. She was confident in what she wore, no matter what it was she was wearing; and she did not have any qualms about what other people thought of her. She was self-possessed in that manner because she took pride in whatever she had, even if it was less than most people would wish for, still standing tall over anyone else. And for a commoner, Kyoya noted, that was very interesting.

*****

Kyoya found her in the Ootori Library, standing on top of a ladder while holding a paintbrush. He had reminded her days ago, that nothing really needed to be changed inside the Mansion – a renowned interior designer was the one who chose all the styles after all – but she had stubbornly told him that the Library needed repainting. ("But white walls are too dull, Kyoya," she had pointed out. "It makes you feel you're confined in a hospital.") So after refusing Kyoya's offer to call for professional workers, she volunteered to do the job herself, assuring him that he would even find the Library more appealing than before. She finally noticed him leaning against the door. She stopped and gave him a smile.

"Kyoya, how was your trip?" she greeted.

"It was fine." He glanced at the brush on her hand. "Are you done in here?"

"Yes." She carefully went down the stepladder and walked over to where he was. She looked at her masterpiece proudly. "I've decided to paint a picture. I just thought that this room would be too boring. So I drew a garden with a couple of mountains over there," she gestured around the wall, pointing as she explained her work. "Oh, and I added river by that side." She glanced at him.

"I hope it's all right with you Kyoya," she murmured.

Kyoya stared at the colorful squiggles on the wall, wondering where in the world were the forms of nature that she was talking about. Kyoya had been to different museums around the world and he knew how to appreciate art in whatever form it was done. But his intellectual mind drew blank as he gaped at the wall.

"Kyoya?" she repeated, an obvious stiffness growing in her tone.

But Kyoya, being the smart person that he was, merely pushed his glasses up. "Of course it is, Haruhi," he replied smoothly. "You can do whatever you want." At the back of his mind he made a little note to advice his father not to go into the Library when he came to visit, in order to avoid any emergencies that would include a hospital. Ootori Yoshio was fond of the place.

She looked pleased and wiped her brow from sweat with the back of her hand. Kyoya's eyes were drawn to her. Her brown hair was tied messily in a bun, her working clothes were splattered with fresh paint. There was a streak of green on her cheek – probably from her own version of a garden – and he wondered if it could still be removed from her skin. The new sneakers he had bought from Germany were smeared with dried red paint and the back of her jumper was soaking wet from her perspiration. Kyoya stared at her a little longer than he wanted to. She caught his gaze and beamed at him.

It's really a mystery to him how she could manage to look so beautiful in the most demanding situation.

She has a heart of gold and a sense of innocence that was strikingly different from Kyoya's demeanor. But then, this sense of innocence, unfortunately, did not include being discreet. Kyoya often wondered how he had managed to cope with her bluntness all this time. Not that he did not gain from it – Kyoya can turn almost any problem to his advantage – but it still bugged him sometimes.

*****

"So," the plump female reporter began, trying very much to keep up with Kyoya's quick pace out of the lobby. "What do you feel about all the rumors that your father, Ootori Yoshio – a very respectable man, in my opinion – chose you to be his heir, only because he is losing his grip? That is to say, his age is finally keeping up with him, thus he was said to be forced to overlook your brothers in favor of you." She paused, letting her words to sink in. "What do you want to tell all your detractors?"

Kyoya surveyed her through his glasses, his eyebrow slightly raised. He knew for a fact that this certain reporter was the one who had been spreading all those rumors, as she had put it, in her newspaper column. He gave her an indulgent smile.

"I don't have anything to explain," Kyoya replied calmly as he continued walking, the reporter still on his heels. "Although I would like to assure you that my father is in a very good condition. I have never seen him as healthy as he is now."

"I see," she said politely, albeit with a trace of skepticism underlying in her tone. She wrote furiously everything he had said in her little notebook. "Well, what about the issue of your incapacity to take over the family's business? There are talks that your brothers, who have been in this company longer than you did, would have been the better choice for the head of this Empire. Would you say that you regret being the chosen one now that – ?"

"I do not regret anything," Kyoya answered still in that calm, tolerant voice. "I am my father's son and I have full confidence in my abilities as the Ootori heir. I daresay my father does too, that is why he chose me. And for his reasons in preferring me, I have nothing to do with it. All of us – my brothers and I – were all treated equally by my father and I am sure that we all have done our best to prove our worth. Now, if you'll kindly excuse me, I have a meeting to go to." With that, he nodded curtly at her, before getting inside his waiting limo, leaving her behind before she could harass him with more questions. Not a second later, his secretary, Izumi, sat across him. He settled comfortably on the car's seat as they began to move.

"Kyoya-sama," Izumi started in an awed voice. "I'm amazed you could keep your patience with her. She's so… " She trailed off. "How could you answer all her questions so easily, sir?"

Haruhi's face suddenly appeared clearly in Kyoya's mind. He quietly pushed the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smiled at Izumi wryly.

"I've heard worse."

Her insight and intelligence were also intriguing. She can read people and see through them so easily, he couldn't fathom how she could do it. And her commoner wisdom, ah yes. Her commoner wisdom was worth mentioning.

******

Kyoya never felt as helpless as he did that day. He was sitting on the bed, the fluffy pillows arranged comfortably behind him. A thick blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and when he sneezed, it left his pale face with a very red nose. He sniffed with as much dignity as an Ootori heir could muster, silently wincing at the terrible headache that was drilling in his brain. And it definitely did not help ease his mood when Haruhi intentionally hid his cellular phone to keep him away from doing any work. He flexed his limp, empty hand.

Ah yes. He felt utterly helpless.

He looked up as Haruhi walked over to the side of the bed and gently placed a glass of water on the bedside table. Kyoya took the thermometer Haruhi had forced in his mouth a minute ago and looked at her.

"Haruhi," he began in a hoarse voice. "If you don't hurry up, you're going to be late for work." She whipped around, frowned slightly at him and took the thermometer from his hand. "I'll be all right. After all, what's the use of owning a hospital if I'm not going to use it?" he continued, giving a long, weary sigh. "Besides, I really don't believe in your commoner ways of curing. I'd rather have myself checked by a real doctor. Someone who knows exactly what he is doing and studied it for many years. And I don't think – "

Whatever else Kyoya was thinking at the time, she never knew. Haruhi swiftly cut him off by thrusting the thermometer back in his mouth. Forcibly.

"I'm not going anywhere Kyoya. If I leave you for a minute, you're going to go back to work. You need rest and I'm going to make sure you're going to have one. So just relax. I know what I'm doing."

Kyoya replied something undecipherable, the offending thermometer still in his mouth.

"Yes, I know," she replied, rolling her eyes. "But do you honestly think I'm going to work when you're so sick? I'd rather miss a case than leave you right now." She glanced at the clock before facing him again. She took the thermometer, checked its result, and then handed Kyoya a blue tablet.

"Our commoner ways of curing," she echoed, raising an eyebrow, "isn't that all different from yours." She watched as he drank the medicine, blinking as he made a face at the bitter taste. She helped him lie down on the bed, arranging the pillows as he did so. "How else do you think I survived until now?"

"Sheer luck," Kyoya murmured as he settled himself comfortably.

Haruhi twitched. She leaned down and pulled the blanket over him. She paused, then planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Commoners are smarter than you think, Kyoya," she said as she turned around. Kyoya watched her leave the room, feeling a warm tingling sensation on his forehead that he was absolutely sure has nothing to do with the fever he has. He would never admit it, but he knew he wouldn't have chosen a better person to take care of him other than Haruhi. He closed his eyes to sleep.

Commoners are smarter than you think.

Considering that he was married to a Fujioka Haruhi, Kyoya knew he couldn't argue with that.

And of course, how could he possibly forget her passion for food? A quality that Kyoya had found useful in many situations. Very, very useful.

******

"A bag of kimchi," Kyoya offered. Haruhi glared at him.

"No."

"Two?"

"Kyoya, I'm trying to concentrate here. I have an important case right now. I need all the information I can get," she retorted through gritted teeth. She stared at the bulky book in front her. "You know what you're doing, don't you?"

"What?"

"Bribery. And emotional blackmail." Haruhi frowned at him. "I can sue you, you know."

Ah, the pitfalls of marrying a brilliant lawyer. Kyoya raised an eyebrow slightly. "You're being unreasonable, Haruhi," he replied as he walked over to where she was. He glanced at the book she was so intent on studying, admittedly curious on the new case she was handling. He peered over her shoulder and read the title on the top of the page.

Chapter 5: Grounds for Divorce.

Kyoya suddenly straightened up, calmly adjusting his glasses that had became clouded. He paused, trying to weigh his options. His stubbornness won.

"Okay. You got me. Two bags of kimchi and a box of cake for dessert." He smiled disarmingly at her. "How does that sound?"

Ootori Kyoya was defiantly ignored.

"It's just one time, Haruhi."

"I don't like being interviewed by the press. They exaggerate things and doesn't write the truth as it is." She rolled her eyes. "I don't like them."

"I completely understand. I've been victim of their atrocious writings before too," he told her smoothly. Haruhi resisted the urge to snort. Like Kyoya would ever become a victim. "But how about if I add sushi for tonight's dinner and crabs for tomorrow's lunch?"

She sighed. "Is this what how you deal with your business associates? You don't accept no for an answer, do you Kyoya?"

He blinked innocently at her.

"Fine. I'll do the interview with you," she reluctantly told him. "But I have to see the article first. And then I'll decide if they can publish it. Libel is a very heavy case."

"That's all right," he agreed. "And you can even mention your obscure law firm in the interview. That would help too, wouldn't it? A free advertisement. I'm sure your boss would love that."

She grunted. He smiled as he walked away from her, his hand already on his phone.

"Kyoya?"

"Yes, Haruhi?"

She struggled to maintain her dignity but regrettably failed. "I'd rather have the crabs tonight," she muttered, avoiding his gaze. He pushed his glasses up as he hid a smile.

"Of course. Anything you say."

Kyoya smiled at the memory, recalling very well how the interview went smoothly, resulting in a favorable response from the people both from the two sides of the society. The only problem was that he did have a slight stomachache after that, but it was quickly remedied. Miraculously, Haruhi did not have any indigestion. Probably one of the tricks she learned as a commoner. He should really not underestimate their abilities.

But what really captured Kyoya's attention to her was because Haruhi is… well, Haruhi. And not even his money or power could ever change that. She treats him like any ordinary person, and Kyoya knew he should be insulted. He's the Ootori heir, for crying out loud. She should be scared of him, revere him, really. But he had learned early on that there was no such thing like that in her vocabulary. So being the resilient person he is, he turned her indifference to him as a game, which he found very much refreshing.

*****

Haruhi looked at the velvet box Kyoya had gently placed in her hand. She opened it and saw a sparkling diamond ring, so beautiful and brilliant even she couldn't help but admire it. She stared at it quietly.

The silence that hung between them was so deep, not even a sword could penetrate through it. Kyoya wondered if he was too fast. But they have been together for so long now that he honestly thought it was time.

"Haruhi?"

She blinked at him. "Kyoya?"

His heart began to beat faster. This is it, he thought. It still amazed him how only Haruhi could make him feel like this. "Yes," he gently prompted.

"Are you selling this to me?" she asked, genuinely confused. "Because you know, I absolutely have no money to buy this right now."

Kyoya stared at her for the briefest moment before his glasses suddenly become opaque.

"No, I'm not selling it to you," he said calmly. "See, this is an Ootori heirloom, passed on to our family since the late 1800's. The heir of the Ootori Empire gets to have this treasure and no amount of money could be given for its sentimental value." He took a deep breath. "And besides, I already know you cannot possibly afford something like this, even if you work for the rest of your life. Whatever made you think of that?"

"Ah," she said, although he was sure that she still doesn't get the whole point. He never thought he would resort to this but –

He took the box from her and went down on one knee. He gently held her hand.

"Kyoya," she gasped.

Finally.

"What are you doing?" she asked exasperated. "You're going to have your clothes dirtied and then your pants is going to wear out – " Haruhi paled – "and you'll probably blame me again for it and then I have to go with you to some social function and I won't have time for my new case again and – "

Kyoya's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly, but the rest of his face betrayed nothing of his emotions. "And to think you topped the bar exam," he muttered under his breath. He slowly stood up. Kyoya placed one hand on her lower back as he pulled her close - the box digging in his palm - as he gave her a lingering kiss, deepening it, making sure his point would finally, finally get through her. He slowly pulled back, got the ring inside the box and met her confused eyes.

"Fujioka Haruhi," he began, his voice low. "Will you marry me?"

She stared at him, brown eyes beginning to clear. For a moment he suddenly wondered if she's going to reject him and the thought scared him more than anything else. But then, she blinked and quickly brought her closed fist down her open palm.

"Ahh," she said brightly, comprehension dawning on her face. She cocked her head to the side as her finger touched her cheek. "So this is what it's all about."

Kyoya glanced at the night sky, silently asking Heaven if he's making the right decision in marrying this woman.

"But why me?" she asked, finger still on her cheek.

He stared at her. Because you're more beautiful than you would ever know. Because your intelligence is something I can be proud of. Because of the way you speak your mind. Because you alone can get past through my defenses. Because you're the only one I would dare risk my reputation for. And because you're the woman I know I want to spend my life with.

But there were just some things in life that Ootori Kyoya could never say out loud.

"Because you're you," he told her truthfully, and left it that.

"Hnnn…" she murmured. She stared off at the space above his shoulder, forehead crunched in concentration. Kyoya twitched. How long does she plan to let him wait?

"Yes," she finally said, her eyes blinking blankly at him. He slowly met her gaze. "Ootori Kyoya, I would love to marry you." Then, she smiled.

And Kyoya smiled back.

Being married to Haruhi would always be interesting. Even after all this time, she still never fails to surprise him. Kyoya paused, wondering if he'll still find her as intriguing as she was when he first met her, even when they're already old and cranky. A smile crept up his face.

Actually, there's no need for him to hurry in knowing. He has the rest of their lives together to find that out.