Haruhi's second year in Ouran went quite peacefully – well, as peacefully as one could expect despite being in the Host Club, that was.
After the revelation at the graduation trip, both the twins and Tamaki had propositioned her as well, but Haruhi turned them down. The main reason was that she knew that they didn't need it. Although she had initially started working with Kyoya to repay her debt, towards the end she had stayed on because she knew that he needed her. However, not wanting to reveal Kyoya's performance issues, her excuse for turning them down was that they couldn't offer her anything she wanted.
The twins, of course, offered to make her a fashion model and to supply her with a wardrobe-full of Hitachiin designs, which she promptly declined. Tamaki offered everything from the moon to fluffy pet rabbits, but Haruhi simply smiled and told him to give it up. Kyoya and her were just friends, she argued. There was no reason for Tamaki to get jealous of him just because he spent 10 extra minutes with her every day, regardless of what they were doing.
One time, Tamaki got the 'brilliant' idea to fake a lack of sexual interest, claiming that Haruhi was the only one who could help him back to health. Kyoya took one look at him, turned on a pornographic video on his laptop, and blared it at full volume. Tamaki's bright red blush and resulting stiffness proved that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him.
Haruhi had walked up behind Kyoya to watch the video. "So this really does nothing to you?" She asked in a low voice, in case the others were still lurking around somewhere.
He turned and gaze at the screen for a few minutes, staring at a voluptuous blond moaning heavily while a man fucked her across his work desk. "No, not particularly." He said at last.
"Does it worry you, even a little?" She asked him with concern laced in her tone. "I mean, I assume you're going to have to get married one day."
He shrugged. "A few performance-enhancing drugs will be enough to conceive an heir. Once an heir is conceived, I don't have to touch her any longer."
She kept silent as she recalled all the times he had coupled with her so passionately and felt a pang of sorrow that all those emotions would be locked away in the future. It was such a pity, because it was those times that made him appear human.
(One year later)
Haruhi furrowed her eyebrows in slight confusion as another package from Mori appeared outside her door. She looked at the postage and noted that he was in Kyoto at the moment. So he was back in Japan then. She was already in her third and final year of high school, and Kyoya had graduated the year before. It was a peaceful year at last. The only weird occurrence was that both Mori and Kyoya kept showering her with a constant stream of gifts, despite her insistence that they no longer owed her anything. The thing was, all the gifts they sent her were also a little strange, if not outright absurd. She didn't know if it was coincidental or deliberate, but both of them seemed bent on gifting her with household items.
She placed the package inside the apartment to be opened later and locked the door. She was due for another construction site inspection with Kyoya.
"Thanks for picking me up, Kyoya-senpai." She said as she hopped into the limo, no longer apprehensive about the four-million-yen shoes strapped to her feet. It had become part of her normal business assemble, after all, together with her black limited edition Hermes handbag that Kyoya had pursuaded her to purchase with her own savings a year ago. Despite having ended their contract after his graduation (to the immense joy of Tamaki and the twins), Kyoya still brought her to business meetings from time to time. He claimed that it was to combat his boredom. Haruhi was a little apprehensive about his 'generosity' at first, wondering what the Shadow King would demand from her in return; but eventually relaxed when he made no advances or demands from her even after a prolonged period of time.
"A hopeful entrepreneur gave me this as a gesture of goodwill, do you want it?" He tossed her a small box, which revealed an expensive tea set.
Haruhi examined the gift and smirked. "You're losing your touch, Kyoya-senpai."
He looked up at her. "What do you mean?"
She removed the lid of the box and flipped it upside down. There, on the edge of the underside, was marked 'Ootori'. "Now, you can't possibly tell me that the entrepreneur you mentioned had written it. Anyone with an ounce of sense would attach a separate card to communicate the name of the receiver and the sender, instead of jotting it down in a small hidden corner. This looks to me more like a mark made by the manufacturer himself."
He gave her an impressed look. "Alright, you caught me. It's for you, so you have to keep it, alright?"
She sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you and Mori-senpai? Stop giving me gifts!"
"Mori-senpai? What does he have to do with this?"
"I received another package from him just now." She told him. "I don't know what is in it yet, but just last week he sent me a vase that looks more expensive than the one I broke in the Host Club. And the week before that, he sent me a king-size bedset. I mean, you guys have been to my house, right? We sleep on futons! What am I supposed to do with a bedset?!" She ranted in frustration.
Kyoya filed the information away in his brain. So, Mori-senpai too, huh? He was not surprised that Haruhi had not understood the significants of the gifts as she was from a commoner background. The tradition of gifting household items was usually to signal an interest to pursue marriage, as it carried an inherent meaning of 'let's build a home together'.
Kyoya gazed out the window and let out a silent sigh. Now that he knew that Mori-senpai is his competitor for Haruhi's affections, his chances did not look good. After all, Kyoya knew his own weaknesses. He was short-tempered, moody, cold and vengeful – or in short, certainly not the most ideal candidate one would consider dating.
"Otousan, tadaima."
"Okaeri, Haruhi. I noticed that you have another parcel today?" Ranka asked as he poured some tea for his daughter. "I can't wait to see what's inside!"
Haruhi got the hint and decided to humour her father. "Alright, let's open this one." After a thousand layers of bubble wrap and Styrofoam cushioning, she found… a glass punch bowl.
Haruhi frowned. "What the – I don't even –" She slumped onto the table. "I'll never understand those rich bastards."
"Uh, well, I guess it complements the vase from a while ago?" Ranka tried to interpret the gift graciously, although he too was puzzled by the seemingly odd gifts his daughter had been receiving. "Is there a particular meaning attached to these items?" He asked his daughter.
"I don't think so." Haruhi replied. "A bowl is just a bowl, right? What more can it mean?" She slowed down. "At the moment, there's only one plausible explanation I can think of."
"What is that, dear?" Her father asked.
"I think Mori-senpai and Kyoya-senpai are trying to give me gifts without making it seem like a romantic overture, that's why they resorted to plain, household items like vases and bowls and tea sets. However, I've told them again and again that they don't need to give me anything."
"But Haruhi, isn't once a week a little frequent to give presents to a person, romantic overtures or not?" Ranka disagreed.
"I don't know. I don't think I'll ever understand those rich bastards." Haruhi picked up the glass bowl and started searching for a place to keep it, muttering constantly about how obscenely large it was.
"Ha-ru-hi!"
"Hai, Otousan?"
"There's a letter for you!"
"A letter, for me?" Haruhi reached out to retrieve the envelope her father was holding. It was golden in colour and smelled faintly of roses. On the front was her name written in loopy, cursive letters. 'Fujioka, Haruhi'
She opened the letter and pulled out a white invitation card. "Dear Miss Fujioka," It said. "You are hereby invited to the 150th Annual Debutante Ball. Please RSVP and enclose payment by 31 December 2014. Details are as follows – venue: Nippon World Hotel grand ballroom, date: 1 April 2015, time: 6 pm, dresscode: white traditional wear, fees: 1,000,000 yen."
Haruhi stopped reading at that point. "I'm not going." She declared flatly.
Ranka, on the other hand, appeared to have stopped breathing. He was staring at the envelope and the black 'Debutante Ball Committee' seal in obvious shock.
"Otousan, what's wrong? Otousan?" Haruhi's frantic voice jolted him from his stupor.
Ranka recovered and turned to look at his daughter. "You must go, Haruhi!" He picked up the envelope gingerly. "Never in a thousand years would I imagine that I would see one of these…"
"What? You can't be serious, Otousan. It costs a million yen just to attend the ball! Besides, all the girls in Ouran probably received an invitation anyway. I wouldn't have received one otherwise."
Ranka shook his head. "You're wrong, Haruhi. This is the official Debutante Ball Committee." He pointed to the seal. "Less than 1% of the population are invited to this event every year. It is considered something of the highest honour… Even the rich and famous are not guaranteed an invitation, and have to vie and lobby for it."
"Why would I receive it then?" Haruhi rationalised. "If anything, it's probably a prank by the neighbourhood boys."
Ranka shook his head. "I don't know, but I'll find out." Before Haruhi could react, he was already calling up the listed contact number on the invitation. "Moshi moshi, sorry for the disturbance. This is Benjamin, calling from the Kuroda household. It seemed like our young mistress found out that her friend, Fujioka Haruhi, has been invited to the Debutante Ball and was wondering if you had a similar invitation for her. Yes, please do. Her name is Kuroda Asaka."
He held on the phone, listening intently. "Is that so? The young mistress will be terribly disappointed, but of course I understand your plight. I apologize for taking up your time."
Ranka placed his phone on the table, his hands shaking slightly.
"Dad?" Haruhi asked, concerned.
"It's definitely the real deal." Ranka quivered in excitement. "Oh Haruhi, I'm so happy for you!"
"Dad!" Haruhi whined. "I didn't say that I'm going!"
"Oh yes, you are, young lady. And before you argue, they said your fees are already paid for."
"What? By whom?"
"Why don't you finish reading the invitation and see what else it says?"
Haruhi sighed. "Fine."
She took the invitation from her father's hand. "Please note that custom dictates each Debutante to be escorted by two men at all times, a Japanese civilian and a Japanese military officer." Haruhi was about to point out how difficult it would be to find a military officer when she saw the expectant look on her father's face. He had always been proud of her, but this – this expression – it was pure happiness. He looked happier than the day she managed to cook her mother's recipes, and even happier than the time she told him that she had gotten the scholarship to Ouran.
And so, she continued reading the postscript written on the bottom. It appeared to be a personal message to her. "Miss Fujioka, it is my pleasure to discover that you have been invited to this year's Debutante Ball. Therefore, as your scholarship sponsor, I feel that it is my prerogative to cover your attendance fees at the ball. I hope you forgive the liberty I have taken and enjoy the ball. Forever yours, Suoh Yuzuru."
Haruhi re-read the message. So the Chairman was the one who paid her fees, but his sentence implied that he was not the one who had invited her in the first place. Uncertain, she decided to ask the person she trusted the most.
"Hey Haruhi, what's up?" A sleepy voice came through the phone.
"Kyoya-senpai? Are you asleep?"
"I'm in Switzerland at the moment, so it's actually 3 o' clock in the morning; so yes, I was sleeping."
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I'll just hang up, then."
"Wait." Kyoya called out, a little louder than usual. Haruhi held the phone against her ear once more, praying that the Low Blood Pressure Demon King would not summon his private police force to kill her for waking him up in the middle of the night. "Since I'm already awake, why don't you tell me what you wanted to say?"
"Are you sure? Uh, alright then. Kyoya-senpai, I just received an invitation to a 'Debutante Ball'."
"Is that so? Congratulations."
"The thing is, I don't understand why a commoner like me got an invitation to such a prestigious event."
"I'm not sure. My best guess is that you might have drawn their attention by hanging around the Host Club so often. Either that, or some of my business contacts might have remembered you from our meetings with them."
"Oh, so I guess I have you guys to thank for the invitation one way or another then?"
"Like I said, it's just a guess. No one really knows how they come up with the invitees for the Debutante Ball."
"Do you think I should go, Kyoya-senpai? To be honest, I'm quite reluctant, but…"
"But?"
"My dad seems very eager for me to go."
"Ranka-san is right, Haruhi. The Debutante Ball is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You only turn 21 once, after all."
"Fine… I'll go…"
"Good decision. Who knows, you might even find a good match from there."
"Good match? For what?"
"For marriage of course. What else do you think a Debutante Ball is for? It is the elite's society's way of presenting their daughters to the world, to mark their entrance into womanhood and declare their eligibility to be wed."
"Uh, I don't have any intention to get married at the moment though…"
"Really? My father will be there too, you know. Looking for a bride for me."
"…"
"I was just kidding. Although it's true that he will be there, as will Tamaki's father. Just go take a look, alright? Since it's already paid for."
"I understand. I'll attend the ball, Kyoya-senpai. Sorry once again for disturbing your sleep."
"That's alright. Good night, Haruhi."
"Good night, Kyoya-senpai."
A/N: Next chapter is the final chapter!