Well, it seems you all have essentially forgotten about me. That's to be understandable, as I abandoned this story for three months of teen angst and a guy. For that, I apologize. I just didn't want this story to delve into the darkness like its predecessor as a byproduct of said angst. That is what happened before and….. well here we are. I did not wish to cause this misery again. And now, most of you have all forgotten. And that's perfectly acceptable, I'm just going to keep posting chapters until I finish this. Even if only one person reviews, that one person will keep me going.

Sorry. The author got depressed, as she feels unloved and forgotten and all.

But, angst aside, do any of you watch 'Bleach' by any chance? I'm sure you do! Or have at least watched a couple? It goes on for a LOOOOOOONG time. It's STILL going on actually! Anyway, what pairings do you consider? And have you considered this before, you avid Bleach readers/watchers?

Chad and Karin.

Yes, I know you're all probably cringing in your seats right now. Screaming, "Pedophile! There's a big fuckin' age difference!" Actually not so! It's only a few years and it only seems pedophile-ish because Chad is like a giant and Karin's really small. So yeah… Muddle through that while you sit here reading my blabbering author's note. And take a look at my ongoing fanfic about them if you're interested. Chad and Karin only have two pages of fanfiction dedicated to them and me and the others bust our asses trying to keep the pairing alive! If you ever stroll down that fanfiction lane, look us up. Our stories are great!

For those of you still reading, thank you. And listen to the song 'Arms' by Christina Perri. It's where my inspiration for this chapter sprung from.

The Only Exception

Arms

"I won't do this, Yuzuru."

His cologne was very strong; it overwhelmed her. She fought a strong urge to retch. She would not back down. She would not give in. This would not happen. She wouldn't let it happen to them. Not again.

He chuckled jovially, circling around the leather chair to face her. "Oh my dear," He smiled toyingly at her. His eyes were anything but. They were cold, they were hard, and they too would not back down.

"I don't recall ever giving you really much of a choice."

Haruhi felt a shiver whisper its way down her spine.

She shivered. Damn sea breeze. At least that's what she told herself. She was not intimidated by Yuzuru Suoh. She was not. Haruhi tightened her hands reflexively around her coffee mug. She stared down into the liquid with a fierce intensity. "Bastard." The woman muttered. Why was this happening? Why was he doing this? She had never done anything to deserve this. Well….. the affair. That was probably why. But dammit, she was finally happy! For the first time in seven years, she was happy! Didn't she have some right to keep that happiness?

"Bastard."

"Hey. What did I do?" A mockingly hurt voice asked from behind her.

"Shit!" Haruhi jumped. The mug fell from her fingers and spilled over the rug. A dark brown stain began to taint the ground. "Sorry, sorry!" Takashi raised his hands in surrender as his lover's piercing eyes glared at him. His hair was sticking up crazily in every direction, wet and dripping onto his tan shoulders. "Clothes?" Haruhi asked with a semi-amused expression on her features. Takashi grinned cheekily back. "Alright. If that's what you want."

He left the room, leaving Haruhi's thoughts to slowly kill her as she sighed miserably.

"Would you kindly explain to me as to what this is?"

Her father-in-law had dropped his genial tone. In fact, his entire posture had become oddly stiff. "As to what 'what' is, sir?" Haruhi suddenly wished herself to be out of this room. It seemed….awkward. Stuffy. Very uncomfortable.

Yuzuru rubbed his temples in frustration, and suddenly Haruhi knew what he was going to show her before it happened.

Her heart fell into her stomach.

"Love, are you alright?"

She looked up. Dammit, why was he sneaking up on her so much? Did he not trust her or something? Haruhi bit back a reply. Chewing her lip, she looked down at the coffee mess. Takashi sat down next to her. "Hey." His voice was losing its' tranquil edge. It was getting frightened. "Haruhi…" He tried to put his arms around her. She leaned away, rising off the couch. Haruhi let her hair fall into her eyes. Walking into the kitchen, the woman looked in vain for cleaning materials. 'Stupid maids. Why can't they leave their cleaning stuff here?' Haruhi put a hand to her mouth. She couldn't believe she had thought that. She loved the maids; they were so good to her and so funny when they protested as she cleaned. "If I were Yori-chan, where would I put the cleaner…?" *Yori was her very favorite. She was a very quiet girl, very reserved, yet a good listener. Many a night had Haruhi stayed with her in the servant's quarter when she had trouble sleeping.

"Haruhi?" Takashi was next to her. She flinched again, and watched with a sense of detachment as his silver eyes grew wide. "What?" Haruhi looked up at him, slightly annoyed. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and she fought to keep her face neutral. "What do you want, Takashi….?" She smiled happily at him.

Takashi let out an exasperated sigh.

"Love….."

He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder with ease. "Hey!" Haruhi protested, arms flinging themselves haphazardly around his neck for purchase. Takashi ignored her pointedly, carrying over to the couch. He set her down gently. As she attempted to rise, he pinned her underneath him. "What the hell was that for?" Haruhi berated him angrily. "Let me up!" Her small hands pushed against his chest. "Why are you being so stubborn? Move!" Her shouts became more indignant, more angry, more high-pitched.

"Haruhi. Cut it out."

She stopped resisting.

And looked up helplessly at her lover, her soulmate.

"What on earth…?"

Her words trailed off as she stared at the computer screen. "Yuzuru, quite frankly I don't know what to say." Haruhi made a great effort to take her eyes off the monitor. To calm her heartbeat. To compose her face. She felt like a badly behaved school child, sitting in the principal's office. And indeed, it did seem like that. The picture on display…..

It was taken at Mitsukuni's house, just a few days ago.

Of her.

Of Takashi.

Of a kiss…

'This isn't happening, this isn't happening. It's not.' Haruhi thought childishly, panicking. Not now. She was going to divorce Tamaki and marry Takashi. She just needed some time. She was actually going to go meet him tonight…Back at the condo…He had a surprise for her…Kyouya was throwing a party for Tamaki and Anne-Sophie because of it.

"You don't know what to say." Her father-in-law's words were flat. "You don't know what to say?" Yuzuru stood up in a rage, power coming off him in waves. Haruhi stood her ground cautiously, barely shifting in her chair. "How about what to do? Do you know what you should do, Haruhi?" He slammed his hands down on the desk in anger. She looked at him with a fierce intensity. And from her mouth came the words she had been dying to say for so long.

"I should divorce your son and find my happiness."

Her face went white.

As did his.

His face was pale.

Looking up at him, Haruhi wondered how all the blood had suddenly drained out of his features. "Haruhi, please." Takashi begged, holding her wrists gently between his hands. "Tell me what's upsetting you." She tugged at her arms in irritation. He resisted without effort. "Let go." Haruhi demanded in a soft voice. Takashi looked at her in wonder and shock. How much was she hurting him right now? She didn't even want to know. But in her heart, she knew it had to be this way for a while.

She had to hurt him to save him.

Oddly enough, it was at that moment that she remembered all the times he had pinned her down before. She flushed, and tried to summon some of her old anger.

"Let go of me now."

Haruhi knew that when her voice grew cold like this, he panicked.

He would let go out of shock and love for her.

"I won't."

She paused.

Turning her resisting head to look up at him in alarm.

His silver eyes were defiant, yet pleading. Angry, yet loving. He stared down at her with the intensity of a man staring at his last lifeline. "Haruhi, you still don't understand, do you?" Takashi asked her, leaning down. She froze. If he kissed her now, she wouldn't be able to leave him. Damn him and his love. It always got the best of her in the end…

He rested his head softly against the apex of her breasts.

Haruhi jumped.

"I love you. Do you have any idea what that means?" He murmured softly, voice so low she almost couldn't hear it at her close proximity. Did she know what that meant? Honestly? She thought of five years with Tamaki. That wasn't love. She didn't love him. But what was this thing with Takashi? They said 'I love you' to each other, right? So didn't that make it love? Haruhi wondered. And for a while, she couldn't find words to say. It was just too overwhelming. His body, his emotion, the tension in the room so thick that it made it hard to breathe…..

"No…" Haruhi finally whispered honestly, turning her head to the side.

He wouldn't see her cry.

"You want to divorce my son? You want to divorce MY family? How dare you!"

His chair made a harsh, derisive sound as it scraped the polished floor. "You stupid, insolent commoner! After everything we've done for you!" He walked round to face her, arms held in check behind his back. She knew that if he could, he would hit her. But he couldn't. Not without Tamaki or Takashi finding out. It would be too noticeable.

Yes, way too noticeable...

"Do you have any idea where you would be if we had not accepted you? Do you?" His hands were adorned with rings. She remembered thinking, 'Just like his son, with his flamboyancy.' and feeling the first pricks of doubt burying themselves in her skin. "In a whorehouse no doubt, selling yourself for a place to sleep!" Haruhi widened her eyes. "Excuse me?" She stood up, small chest rising and falling in a rage. "If you really believed that, then why did you let me marry your son?" The woman gave her father-in-law a harsh prod in the chest. "You're being ridiculous, Yuzuru!"

"What it means is that..."

"It means that I'm willing to stay with you, no matter what the cost. It means that have never looked at any other woman, never once wavered in my decision to be with you." He raised his head from her chest to look into her eyes. Silver ones filled with that stoic calm only he could portray stared at her in all seriousness. "It means that no matter what happens, even if you give up on me, I will never, ever give up on you. I will always be waiting for you, always be there for you, whenever and wherever you need me." Takashi sat up. His hands slipped into hers with an easy grace, a flawless beauty. Haruhi could only stare, words filling her mouth and tears drying in her eyes.

"It means that I won't walk away, I won't leave, I won't run, no matter what you say or try to do to make me leave you. I'll make sure to wake up with you every morning, and go to bed with you every night." At this, he pulled her gently into his arms. The embrace was soft, but firm. Accepting, but resolute. There was no doubt in her mind, in his words, that he meant it. Haruhi sat against his chest quietly, helplessly, as the very bane of his love coursed into her ears with a loud drumming.

"And whatever happens, no matter how many times you change your mind about us, I will stay. It means that if something were to happen to you, I would feel as if I had died. And I will take whatever beatings people will give us, if it means that we can be together after we've waited for so long." Takashi dropped his head onto her shoulder, exhausted. Why was it that whenever their life achieved near perfection, it was ripped apart by the cruel knives of injustice and hatred? And why was it that she seemed to lead a good percentage of these attacks? Was this really the same woman who, at one point, had spent seven years of her own life crying for him?

Haruhi still hadn't spoken. Had she really nothing to say to this? He had just poured out his entire heart to her, offered himself up to the highest vulnerability a man could give. And… here she was, completely and totally lifeless inside his arms. Not a single response to show that she had even heard him, none the less cared. Takashi felt a deep depression crawling up his throat, making him want to cry out. He managed to choke out a tentative, "Haruhi…..?" before she came to life in his embrace.

Her arms flung themselves across his back, gripping him and tightening to the point of pain. Yet Takashi felt weak with relief at the feeling. "I do know, I don't even know why I said that, it's just that-" His grasp on her tightened. "It's alright, really. Love, if you don't want to tell me, you don't have-" Haruhi pulled back, but not without difficulty. She met his eyes, and he saw that they were filled with doubt, admiration, love, self-loathing, and pain all in one instant. And Takashi wasn't sure what to make of it when Haruhi said, "

The slap to her face hurt more than the psychological one, she decided with a dull realization as she hit the soft upholstery.

Yuzuru lowered his hand, in a sick sense of awe and fear. He watched impassively as his daughter-in-law's cheek swelled under his gaze. "Know your place." He boomed imperiously. The woman continued to stare up at him defiantly, seemingly indifferent to the pain. 'How annoyingly persistent…' Yuzuru thought with distaste. He decided to work at a different angle.

"Have you any idea how much my son loves you?" Yuzuru let his tone go down, his voice grow soft. It was this that made her hang her head. Ah, so that was how to get to her. Play the old 'you're hurting him and I can't bear it' card then, with a little blackmailing on the side. Oh, how devastatingly cunning he could be when the mood struck him. And in actuality, he couldn't bear it, really. Tamaki was his one and only child, and it had taken so long for his family to be together again. To achieve happiness after so many trials they had undergone.

He couldn't have that happiness destroyed again. He just couldn't.

So Yuzuru chose instead to open his mouth, to shatter the happiness his daughter-in-law had finally achieved.

"Haruhi, I am ordering you to-"

Takashi felt the fury of horrifiyng standards welling up inside of him.

Yet at the same time a sickened feeling embedded itself in his stomach and a rush of protectiveness came bursting into his furious mind. 'Calm. Calm…Let go of her first.' As if he didn't know that already. "Haruhi, let go." She did so, confusion evident on her features as her hands dropped into her lap. Takashi could not believe this. No one person could stoop this low. It was impossible. He stood, walking over to screen door and opening it. The action nearly wrenched it from its' hinges as he strode out to the edge of the beach. With no hesitation, he stripped himself of his shirt and plunged into the water, swimming, rising, falling… Anything to get rid of this excessive, this over abundant feeling of rage in his body…. He came up gasping as a particular large wave dragged him under, lungs starving for oxygen and heart struggling to process this new information.

The salt water made him gag as he pulled himself up on the sand. It was disgusting, it was sick. He dry-heaved as Haruhi came over to him, hands moving to grip his shoulders as she stared worriedly into his face. "Takashi, it's alright, really, I'm not going to do it." Takashi looked up at her, aghast. "But you think that's alright for him to treat you like that, Haruhi?" He coughed again. "Of course not, but what can I do against Yuzuru Suoh?" Haruhi inquired patiently, seemingly at ease. Takashi stood up, brushing his eyes over the woman kneeling on the sand. She was too calm.

"Haruhi, just say how you actually feel, would you? Don't hide it from me; you don't have to do that!" Haruhi patently gazed up at him, rising slowly. She brushed sand from her shorts idly as they stood, not speaking. "What do you want me to do?" she finally asked softly, brown eyes angry and defiant. "Don't do this. Anything but this, I'll let you do, but not this." Takashi begged. "Haruhi, this-" He put a hand tenderly against her stomach, reverently folding his palm over her skin, "is not something you share with just anyone. This is special, so special that I'm not sure I could forgive you if you did this." He pulled her to him once more, drooping his head onto her shoulders. "Please don't do this, anything but this."

It was quiet.

The sea whirled around their feet, foam hissing angrily.

Bird's cries pierced the sky.

"I have to do this, you idiot."

She stepped back. "Don't try to convince me otherwise! Do you know what Yuzuru said? He said that he would take my dad's job. That he would make sure Dad and I would never be allowed to live in Japan again. He threatened to deport us, Takashi. He threatened to kill you. All because of this." Her eyes were hard, defiant. "Dammit, I am so pissed off. Call me crazy, but I don't want Yuzuru to kill you, dummy." She grabbed his hands, marveling as she always did at their warm feeling.

Yet he was completely unperturbed.

His face composed itself into its original calm, quiet exterior.

He was silent.

"Do whatever you feel you must do." Takashi's speech was frank. He gently pulled his hands from hers and walked away. He reached the tiny home, and pulled open the door.

The door clicked shut with a chilling finality.

"Dammit." Haruhi ran an annoyed hand through her brown hair. "I don't want to do this. Not again." She went towards the house.

"Takashi, wait!"

Disjointed thoughts, words, images, bouncing around.

Not making sense, not making sense, Jesus nothing is making sense.

Where are my pants?

How is this happening? What is happening? Why am I so confused all of a sudden?

No, not now, please not now; it took so long for us to find each other again, not now.

My shirt is hanging over a chair. Why is it on a chair? When did I put it there?

Am I going mad…..? Dammit, no. I'm just pissed right now. Pissed, hurt, confused, I am so damn confused….

And sick. I feel so sick.

God, what kind of sick person would ask someone to do this? Why would someone do it? For love? Is this really how far she is going to go for me? Please don't go this far for me, I'm not worth it!

Shit, now I'm talking to myself, dammit dammit dammit, I'm talking to myself, why is this happening again?

My hands are shaking in front of me now, so I grip a chair, watch my knuckles grow tense, grow rigid, the chair is breaking…breaking…..

Stop. Get a grip on yourself. Is this what it feels like to have your entire world ripped away from you? Suspended in this blackness, this void, this….. nothing?

I'm sorry; I realize how insane I must sound. But until you feel this kind of connection, this kind of love for another person other than yourself, you will never know how I feel.

And right now, I'm a little disjointed, a little reckless, shit I'm lost right now.

"Takashi, calm down."

Oh trust me, I am calm. Far more calm than you could ever realize, love. So damn calm that I'm going to stand by and watch all this happen to you and not do a goddamn thing, not do a goddamn thing at all…..

"Haruhi, don't do this. Please, I am begging you to not do this to me." Had my voice ever sounded so pleading before?

"Don't you understand, I don't have a choice!" She throws her arms up in helpless behavior. I can see it in her eyes. She's just as lost as I am, just as helplessly trapped like the rats in a maze we have become.

Jesus, what a dark thought.

"It's your body, Haruhi! Of course you have a choice!" My brain can't keep up with my mouth, Jesus have I really slipped this much as the time has gone by, have I ever been so careless, my composure so easily broken in times of stress?

Stop. Again, that voice of reason. Stop.

"Listen…"

"Listen…."

Listen, he says? He wants me to listen? Does he not realize that I am doing this for him, for us, just to finally put and end to this crazy thing? This mess? God, can he really be so blind?

"I'm doing this. Please trust me." Short, sweet, and to the point. What a cliché, so stupid of me to even think it. But it's true. He should go with me on this.

We love each other, don't we? So why can't he follow me into this?

He rubs his hands down his face slowly, painfully, almost as if he is intentionally trying to cause self-harm. "I'm tired of arguing. Just call the boat guy and we can work this out later."

We can work it out later, except that you don't really mean that, do you?

Dammit. Why does love have to be so hard?

…..

Me and my damn clichés.

The flamingo was staring him right in the face.

That cocky bastard, that flashy bird, the flamingo.

And he had made out with the flashy bird's mother, practically had mouth sex with her on a dare, on a whim.

Oddly enough, he had enjoyed it.

It seemed that she had too, for when he woke up the next morning…..

A pale, slender arm was cinched tight around his waist. Its hand was linked through his fingers, pretty pink nail polish chipped ever so slightly on the index finger. Kyouya was astounded. "Oh Mr. Ootori, what have you done…..?" He trailed off, staring up at the flamingo again.

The other flamingo should be awakening shortly.

"Then again, maybe not….." After all, said flamingo was passed out on the couch with a red-headed troublemaker. Kyouya sat up, hand still interlocked in another hand's embrace. He looked at the window, and flinched as the bright lights assaulted his brain with a vengeance. "Hangover, of course…. Just what I needed." He rubbed his temple absently with his free hand. He used the other to shake the woman sleeping beside him.

"Anne-Sophie, Anne-Sophie darling, wake up and enjoy the migraine with me…." He sang sarcastically.

Slowly, tiredly, violet eyes opened, sleep still seeking refuge there as she yawned. "Kyou-chaaaaaaaaaaan….?" The French woman attempted to speak but was again ambushed by another yawn. "I think it's safe to say that we can drop the honorifics now, Anne-Sophie." He whispered brusquely in her ear. "In fact, I do believe that nothing will ever be the same again." And, just like that night, Anne-Sophie stiffened at his proximity. Only now Kyouya knew why.

She was attracted to him… oddly enough.

He sighed. "Why can't I ever catch a speck of normality?" Anne-Sophie looked at him, confused. "Who are you talking to?" Kyouya winked. "The readers, darling, the readers…"

Anne-Sophie pulled away, roughly ripping her hand from his.

"Kyouya, what exactly went on here last night?" Her tone was worried, yet harsh. 'Such a contradicting woman.' he thought arbitrarily. He stood, shrugging his shoulders. The action made him notice the T-shirt clinging to his skin for the first time, and he smiled gratefully. "I'm not naked, at least. And neither are….." He noticed the huge blanket Anne-Sophie had retreated into. It nearly completely obscured her, save for her reproachful face. She muttered something, pouting her lips.

"I do apologize, but I didn't quite catch that….."

"You fondled me."

Kyouya's smile dropped off his face. "eh….?" Anne-Sophie nodded. "You did. I remember. And then I took off your shirt and ran my hands down your chest, and you kissed my sternum, and then we-" He wrapped a hand about her mouth. "Nope, nope." He blushed a deep red as she turned around in the blanket, throwing it over him. "You listen to me and you listen to me good, Kyouya Ootori." They fell to the floor as she gripped his shirt in both hands.

Her violet eyes were angry, for the first time he had ever seen her, she was angry.

"This did happen. Don't you go skirting around this issue, for I will not have you forgetting about this." She relinquished his shirt as she sat up, throwing the blanket off her with a flourish. "Now." Anne-Sophie stood, T-shirt clad figure walking around the house. "Where is the kitchen?"

"Put some pants on!"

Kyouya collapsed wearily on the bed some several hours later, exhausted. Tamaki had been in near hysterics when he awoke to find his mother without pants in the kitchen. Kaoru had been equally as surprised. Yet because he was not as flamboyant, he quietly ate his breakfast, not uttering a syllable. It seemed that Hikaru and Chikako had snuck off somewhere during the night. The Ootori Police Force was trying to locate them now.

His phone beeped, and the Shadow King briefly considered crushing it.

'Problem. Can I come ovr?' from Haruhi Fujioka, 5:19 P.M.

He mulled over whether or not he should respond.

And tiresome, he picked up his phone.

'But of course. U & Mori?' from Kyouya Ootori, 5:21 P.M.

Haruhi chuckled as she read her phone.

'Part of the issue my friend. I'm omw now' from Haruhi Fujioka, 5:23 P.M.

"Damn."

Kyouya flopped against his headrest dramatically, sighing.

He hated all this drama, he really did.

It gave him the urge to kill things, like bunnies and small children.

They had parted ways, quietly and without fuss. No one had agreed or mentioned a date on which they might see the other again. For now it seemed that the plan was just to live each day one at a time. And see where that would lead them.

She had made up her mind.

She was going to do it and he could not stop her.

He had made up his as well.

He didn't want to watch her do this to herself, to them.

So, for the time being, as their interests headed in opposite direction, so did they.

And this time, there were no tears.

"Yuzuru wants me to have a child with Tamaki."

Haruhi didn't mean to utter the words so abruptly. It seemed as though they were ripped from her mouth of their own accord, not hers, but by some unseen force's. And she couldn't take them back. Her brown eyes grew wide and frightened. So frightened. So helpless.

Kyouya could only stare at his friend. His tongue was numb, numb and cold with the frostbite of unthinkable words.

"I-He-What?"

Haruhi bit her lip now, eyes welling for the first time since hearing the news. It seemed that now she was finally admitting to herself was the time that made it the hardest to hear.

Kyouya's figure in the doorway grew blurry with unshed tears, threatening to spill and drown her.

"H-He wants me to have a child with his son, regardless of whether or not I want to. And I'm going to do it Kyouya, oh God I'm going to do it…."

She looked at him. "I'd love to say 'Help me' but I know that you can't."

A watery, stitched on smile pushed itself across her face like a theater mask. "I just figured that if I were to tell anyone, it would be you."

It was quick, it was painless, that was a lie it was so painful.

Choke back your tears now, Haruhi, for they will do you no good.

Afterwards, he lay next to her, blonde hair mussed and rough against the expensive pillows. He propped himself up on one arm, violet eyes questioning. "What made you change your mind, darling?" His expression was vaguely dreamy, happy even, for the first time in days.

Well, there is a first time for everything.

Cliché number three, ladies and gentlemen of the world.

I smiled, trying to get rid of this cold, slimy feeling inside of me. Never before could I recall feeling so disgusted with myself. Ever.

"What better time like the present, am I right?"

Clichés make everything so tasteless, mind you.

"I love you, Haruhi Suoh." A kiss on the lips and he was wrapping an arm about my waist. How I wished that it was a different color, a different size, not so slim and pale like my own…..

"I love you too, Tamaki Suoh."

I didn't even notice one crystalline tear turn my bedroom sheets a darker maroon.

Don't hate me. It gets better I swear. Just you wait and see. Those of you still around anyway. It's 12:18 A.M. in California on October 10, 2011 and I am exhausted. My brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail and I want to sleep. My hazel eyes are begging for sleep..

So sleep I shall.

Good morning dear readers…..

And good night to some.

Bailey Danielle - finally figured out my penname!