A/N: Boo. Late. My bad. But some questions get answered in this chapter, or at least hinted at. So, hooray! Thanks, as always, to my lovely, lovely readers and reviewers. I love you all so muchly!
I do not own Ouran High School Host Club; it belongs to Bisco Hatori.
Repairs and Revelations
The silence was thick, and horrible, and helpless. It soaked the walls of the hallway like molasses. Fumbling, Haruhi reached for Tamaki's hand, and wished it was enough. The boy squeezed her fingers reassuringly, but his beautiful eyes stayed blank, and his face was still creased with defeat.
"Boss," the twins murmured uncertainly.
But then Hunni was there, standing in the middle of the circle, beaming bright flowers and sunshine smiles.
"I bet your tummy is empty, isn't it?" he asked. "Come on, Tama-chan. Let's eat!" Hunni's grin may have been innocent, but his chocolate brown eyes were serious and smart. "I'm sure you'll feel better after you have something in your belly."
For a moment, Tamaki could only blink weary eyes. But then, a small, gentle smile bowed his lips.
"All right. Thanks, Hunni-sempai."
Now more than ever, Haruhi wanted to tackle-hug the smallest host. For a moment, she wished she could possess his power, to make every situation better simply by being. Haruhi could offer honesty until Doomsday, and she could hold Tamaki's hand through this emotional time, but there was only so much that squeezed fingers could accomplish. With just a few words, Hunni could help more than Haruhi had with days of hand-holding.
As the Host Club made their way down the stairs, Haruhi reached out and caught Hunni's elbow in her hand. She gave it a brief, grateful squeeze, and the older boy beamed a bright smile over his shoulder.
"Come on, Haru-chan," he said. "You like noodles, right?"
Haruhi let out a small, semi-exhausted laugh.
"Right. Thanks, Hunni-sempai. I mean it."
Dinner was quiet, and might have been awkward, if not for the fact that everyone was too tired to care. Hunni and Mori made some sort of pasta dish with what they found in the kitchen, and everyone ate in almost silence. By the time they finished, Karou's face was resting on his folded arms, and Hikaru was carding his fingers through his brother's hair with one hand, while muffling yawns with the other. Hunni was snuggled against Mori's side, and blinking brown eyes rapidly in an effort to stay awake. Tamaki and Haruhi's eyes were bruised by dark, deep rings. Only Kyoya seemed unaffected, as always, sitting at the table with his arms folded and his face blank.
"Forgive me, Mes Amis," Tamaki said with a tired smile as Hunni slumped even further against Mori's flank. "It's been a long day for you, I'm sure. Let me show you to your rooms."
In the end, the twins were assigned the spare bedroom, because there was only one bed, and they'd never minded sharing. Hunni and Mori made do with the pull-out couch in the den, and Hunni made sure to brush off Tamaki's apologetic words by bouncing excitedly on the bed and exclaiming that it had been ages since he and Takashi had had a sleepover.
Tamaki sacrificed his own room for Kyoya, claiming that he'd rather sleep in the chair by his mother's bedside anyway. Kyoya thanked him quietly, and with great composure, but Haruhi caught the way his hand fisted around the binding of his black book.
Once the house was quiet, and Tamaki had sent Haruhi to her own bed with a soft kiss and worn out smile, Haruhi slipped between soft cotton covers and rested her aching head on the pillow. But despite the fact that her eyes felt gritty and glued with fatigue, and her entire body ached and burned with the need to sleep, she couldn't shut off her busy brain. It rambled and ran, dancing circles inside her head no matter how hard she tried to silence it.
The montage in her mind was an uncomfortable one, mixing images from the past few days with scenes superimposed from her past. Pictures of Anne-Sophie bled and blurred, until her mother's face settled inside her mind's eye instead, horribly pale and drawn but still smiling bravely from her hospital bed.
My sweet girl. Come on, Haruhi. Smile for me, all right?
It's all right, darling. I promise that it's all right.
Haruhi squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, trying desperately to banish the images she'd rather forget. But she couldn't stop the remembered words.
Oh, my baby girl. Don't be sad. Goodbyes aren't so bad. Mommy doesn't want to leave you, Sweetie. But I'll always be with you as best I can.
Haruhi gasped and shoved her way out of bed. As her stomach tossed and turned, she stumble-ran her way to the nearest bathroom, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet with a desperate sound and emptying the dinner she'd eaten into the bowl.
She hated that her mother's words continued to race through her head as she heaved miserably. Tears of exertion and memory trickled down her cheeks, and she wiped at them impatiently once she was done. She staggered her way to her feet, and braced herself against the sink as she rinsed the acid from her mouth.
"Stupid," she mumbled, pushing her hair off of her damp forehead with an exhausted sigh.
"Are you having a flare-up?"
Haruhi jumped, almost banging her face against the mirror above the sink, and whirled around to the door she hadn't had time to shut. Kyoya leaned casually against the frame, clad in gray pajama bottoms and a white shirt, his eyes carefully blank behind his glasses.
"Kyoya-sempai. What?"
"A flare up," he repeated. "Is your ulcer bothering you again? Perfectly understandable, considering the stress of the current situation."
He tossed her the water bottle he'd had cradled in the crook of his arm. Haruhi caught it, her brow furrowed in surprise and confusion.
We've been like this before. Is he going to toss me on a bed this time too?
"It's not my ulcer, Kyoya-sempai," she said, unscrewing the cap on the water bottle. "But thanks for the concern." She took a careful sip, swirling the liquid around in her mouth.
Kyoya gave an almost shrug, and Haruhi recalled his words from the last time they'd spoken like this. At the Ootori estate, in Okinawa.
Thanks. But I wasn't especially worried.
"Not that you were worried," she corrected, with a tiny smile. "Of course you don't bother yourself with things like concern, Sempai."
Kyoya didn't rise to the bait behind her remark. He only blinked, slow and serious, his eyes sharp behind his glasses.
"For someone who said that the situation wasn't impacting you directly, you certainly seem to be struggling with it," he eventually observed.
Haruhi absorbed the barb with a small, painful chuckle. Kyoya-sempai never did believe in pulling his punches, despite the fact that they were velvet-lined with intelligence and smooth subtlety.
"There's no need to be cruel, Sempai," she murmured.
Again, that shrug. He made a slight turning motion, as if he meant to leave, but Haruhi's next words stopped him cold.
"I know why you're being so distant, Sempai. Why you're pushing Tamaki away."
The look that Kyoya shot her was perfectly, composedly blank.
"I'm so sorry. I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to."
"Stop it with the Host Club manners, Sempai," Haruhi said. "They don't work on me. You can pretend that you don't care as much as you want. But if that's really true, then why are you here? Why did you work so hard to pick everyone up and make sure they arrived as soon as possible?" She almost took a step forward, but thought better of it. "I don't believe that he suddenly means nothing to you. So why won't you talk about this?"
"There's nothing to discuss."
Haruhi's brown eyes narrowed stubbornly.
"Come on, Kyoya-sempai. Don't do this to yourself, or to Tamaki."
Kyoya's return comment was as lazy and uncaring as a yawn.
"What does my supposed behavior have to do with the moron?"
"I didn't ask him to come," Haruhi pressed on, ignoring his words completely. "I didn't want him to. But you can't push him away because he did."
"I hardly think I'm pushing him away," Kyoya almost purred, but his eyes had begun to glint dangerously. "Perhaps I'm just preventing intrusion into your new relationship, Haruhi."
"Kyoya-sempai. I'm not trying to take him away."
For a moment, the only sound echoing in the bathroom was the faint drip from the faucet.
"He was yours first," Haruhi continued, after Kyoya failed to speak. "I could never take your place. I would never want to." She searched his eyes solemnly; seeking for the emotion that she knew was there, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. "Sempai, he can need us both, you know. That's okay."
She thought the fact that he'd stopped denying was actually very encouraging.
"Haruhi? Are you in here? Are you all-" Tamaki rounded the corner to the bathroom door from his mother's room, and froze solid as he saw Kyoya leaning against the frame. "-Right?"
Violet eyes widened as Tamaki absorbed the tension in the small room. He glanced uncertainly between Haruhi and his best friend.
"I-I heard noises," he offered. "People talking."
"I wasn't feeling well," Haruhi said steadily, her stubborn gaze never wavering from Kyoya's face. "Kyoya-sempai came to help."
"Really?" Tamaki said with a small, hesitant laugh. He reached for Kyoya's shoulder. "Mon ami-"
But Kyoya ducked away from his hand in a movement so fluid it looked like water, and retreated from the bathroom. He disappeared down the hallway without another word, and Tamaki winced at the sound of his bedroom door shutting. His hands balled into helpless, hurting fists at his sides, and he bowed his head.
"Hey," Haruhi said. "It'll be okay. Kyoya-sempai will come around."
"I can't help the feeling that I'm hurting him somehow," Tamaki said sadly. "I couldn't stand that, Haruhi, couldn't bear my precious friend feeling pain because of me."
Haruhi came close and put a gentle hand on his back. She was still uncomfortable when it came to reaching out to others, and especially him, but he needed it so much more that she was slowly becoming accustomed.
When Tamaki turned to face her, his violet eyes were heavy with bewildered pain. He was still innocent to the darker side of having friends, had spent an entire childhood without the careful give and take of true connections. He cared so deeply for all of his friends, but he still had very little experience with what it meant to carry their burdens on top of his own.
"It'll be okay," Haruhi promised, resigning herself yet again to helping him bear his troubles as best she could. "We'll fix this."
A tiny smile bowed Tamaki's lips, and he nodded. Reaching out, he snagged Haruhi's hand and reeled her in, until her head was resting against his chest, and his chin was planted on top of her head.
"How are you feeling?" he murmured into her hair. "Are you all right, Princess?"
Haruhi huffed and lightly pinched his side.
"Don't call me that," she reminded him. "And I'm fine."
"Is it your-"
"It's not my ulcer," she swiftly assured him. "Really. Just…bad memories."
"I've told you, Haruhi, that you don't have to stay," Tamaki said, his voice pained. "I know that this must be hard for you, and I don't want to cause you any harm."
Haruhi scowled and pinched him again, not so lightly this time.
"Idiot," she mumbled into his nightshirt, over the sound of his startled yelp. "Where else would I be?"
She read his relief and gratitude in his silence, and the way his arms tightened around her waist. They stood silently in the bathroom until Haruhi's eyes began to droop, her exhaustion finally taking over now that she felt safe and the voices in her head had been silenced.
"Everything's so askew," Tamaki eventually whispered. "Nothing is the way it's supposed to be." He pressed his cheek against her hair. "Haruhi."
The wounded confusion in his voice, so similar to when they'd been standing outside his mother's room, broke something in her. She ignored her own comfort level and pressed a little closer, hugged a little tighter, because he needed it.
"I can't…guarantee anything. Not about your mother," Haruhi whispered, and once again hated herself for her unavoidable honesty. "But everything else," she promised fiercely when she felt him stiffen in her arms. "We'll fix it. I swear."
…...
By the time Haruhi wandered her way downstairs the next morning, the symphony of voices waiting downstairs informed her that she was possibly the last one awake. The strong scent of coffee wafted from the kitchen, as well as the sizzling sound of some sort of substance in a pan.
"Haru-chan!" Hunni greeted as she entered the kitchen, from his post at the stove. Someone had pushed a chair up against the appliance so that he could reach the burners. "You're awake!"
"You slept so long, Haruhi," Kaoru complained from the table. "We wanted to wake you up, but Kyoya-sempai said you weren't feeling well last night, so we let you sleep."
Haruhi shot a startled glance at Kyoya, who was seated at the end of the table, cup of coffee in hand as he studiously avoided her eyes. Whatever vulnerability he'd allowed to peek through last night had vanished; his walls were back, and as unbreakable as ever.
One problem at a time, Haruhi grimly ordered herself. Deal with the easier one first.
She locked eyes on Hikaru, who had taken an unnatural interest in his plate of eggs the second she'd entered the kitchen.
"Sorry, guys," she said, scooting even further into the room. "I didn't mean to sleep so late."
She walked past Mori, who gave her a soft 'hm' of acknowledgment around his mug of tea, and settled herself very deliberately into the seat next to Hikaru. The boy stiffened, and shot her a brief glance out of shocked golden eyes.
Not like him at all, she observed dryly. Who'd have ever thought that I'd miss the flirting and the sneaking?
"Here, Haru-chan!" Hunni chirped, setting a plate packed with eggs and toast on the table in front of her.
"Thanks, Hunni-sempai," Haruhi said, and couldn't help the smile that stretched her face at the sight of the diminutive host wrapped in a pink, bunny-bedecked apron.
She picked at her food in near silence, shoveling in more despite her protesting stomach after she caught every one of the boys carefully monitoring her intake.
Seriously. It's been months. I'm perfectly fine.
"Good morning," Tamaki greeted, entering the kitchen just as Haruhi cleaned her plate.
"Morning, Tama-chan!" Hunni sang out, still situated at the stove.
"Morning, Boss," the twins added.
"Mm," Mori offered.
Kyoya briefly ruffled the pages of the newspaper hiding his face, but he didn't lower them.
"How's your mother today?" he asked around the business section.
Tamaki shrugged elegantly and rubbed at tired eyes. The lingering rings around them suggested that he hadn't had as much sleep as Haruhi.
"About the same, I think," he said quietly. "She did say that she'd like to sit in the garden today, and the doctor said that as long as she doesn't overdo, it should be fine. I need to go out and move her chair into the sun, and bring some blankets."
"We'll do it," Haruhi volunteered, jumping on the opportunity like a cat. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around Hikaru's wrist, causing the boy to go as rigid as a concrete wall. "You go ahead and eat."
She had Hikaru up and hustled out the door before anyone could protest. However, she did catch Karou's wink and raised thumb as the kitchen disappeared behind them.
The boys' diagnosis upon arrival yesterday had been completely accurate. The gardens were indeed elaborate, spilling starbursts of color that were framed by the rolling green hills at their back. Gentle winds ruffled the various bundles of pink and purple, blue and yellow and white, as the mid-morning sun encouraged them to unfurl even further. A little cement walkway led to an open space in the middle of the field of fluttering colors, where two padded benches sat invitingly under a large tree.
"Let's bring the chair over there," Haruhi decided. "It's mostly shaded, so we don't have to worry about damaging Anne-Sophie's skin."
Hikaru shrugged uncomfortably.
"Okay," he said, keeping his golden eyes fixed on the endless stretch of flowers.
The elder twin carefully dragged the cushioned lawn chair over by the benches, and then watched as Haruhi arranged the blankets she'd gone to fetch across the seat.
"I'll go tell the Boss-"
"Are you ever going to look at me?" Haruhi interrupted, and glanced up from the pillow she'd been fluffing against the back of the chair. "It's getting a little old, Hikaru."
The boy bristled instantly, and Haruhi indulged in a small, private smile. She understood him well enough to know that pissing him off was probably the fastest path to his true emotions.
"Well, excuse me for being uncomfortable," Hikaru snapped, and then immediately blushed and shut his mouth.
Haruhi straightened and clasped her hands behind her back, studying the Hitaachin in front of her with great solemnity.
"You've always needed someone to tell you when it's time to bring the emotions back in," she observed. "I've done it before, when you and Kaoru were pretending to fight, and I'll do it again. It's time to stop, Hikaru."
The boy buried his hands in his pockets and turned his burning face towards the lawn.
"I don't really understand all this fuss," Haruhi said, and her eyes were honestly confused. "I'm just a commoner anyway. Right?"
"You're Haruhi," he muttered.
She furrowed her brow.
"Yeah, but that hasn't changed," she reminded him. "My relationship with Tamaki hasn't made me any different that I was before."
"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," Hikaru said softly. "Because of my…you know."
Haruhi rocked back on her heels as she considered this, brown eyes big and serious, and then leaned forward with a decisive nod and socked him in the upper arm.
"Hey," Hikaru protested, golden eyes flashing as he brought up a hand to the offended area.
"You're an idiot," Haruhi informed him. "I mean, really. When have you ever cared about making me uncomfortable before? Your feelings didn't freak me out, Hikaru. Just because I didn't return them doesn't mean that I didn't find them flattering."
Hikaru blinked.
"Flattering?"
The barest blush dusted Haruhi's cheeks. She hated talking about her feelings. She usually left that to her flamboyant boyfriend.
"Just because I dress like a boy sometimes doesn't mean that I'm not aware of what you guys look like," she said, plowing forward in spite of her embarrassment. "You guys are attractive. I can appreciate. And I guess, it's nice, that you guys would look at me that way. I'm just me, so I don't really understand it, but it's still…nice."
She remembered Hunni's words from months back, when they'd accompanied her to the hospital.
Don't worry, Haru-chan! It doesn't hurt at all to love you.
He'd said 'we'; he'd spoken for all of them. Which implied that all of them loved her in some sort of way. It had taken Haruhi weeks to come to terms with it; she just didn't understand why a group of such good-looking boys would attach themselves to someone so plain and simple, and who spent the majority of her time scolding them for stupid rich-people assumptions.
But her lack of understanding still didn't stop her embarrassed blushes, when she thought too hard about it.
"You never have been able to see yourself," Hikaru said with a sigh. He reached up a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "I guess it's not like I didn't see it coming."
"Well, I'm glad one of us did," Haruhi said dryly.
Hikaru barked out a laugh. It was more bitter than it was happy, but it was a start, and Haruhi was grateful for it. She rocked back on her heels again.
"You're an idiot if you thought that my relationship with Tamaki would change our friendship," she said, after a short pause. "Just because I'm with him now doesn't mean that I'm any less of friends with you."
She still hated it, spilling her guts like this. But the boys of the Host Club all had problems believing in permanence, and so they didn't accept it unless it was said out loud.
"I'm not going anywhere, Hikaru," she said. "I'm not going to disappear from your life." She smiled a little at his startled look. "You're stuck with me. You know? And if you keep acting so stupid, I'm going to chase you to whatever ridiculously fancy hole you're hiding in, and knock some sense into you." She let her smile stretch. "And Kaoru will help me do it."
Hikaru blinked once. Twice. Then, he tossed back his head, and started to laugh. Loud and rollicking, it stretched across the sea of flowers. Haruhi's eyes warmed at hearing it.
"Okay," Hikaru said. "Okay, I get it."
"Good."
Haruhi debated, then rolled her eyes, and went for it. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. He froze for a moment, but Haruhi stubbornly clung, until his hands reached hesitantly around her back.
"Missed you, you idiot," Haruhi mumbled against his chest, and by the slight tensing of his hands, he heard her perfectly.
"Yeah." Hikaru blew out a deep breath that might have been an exhalation of relief. "Yeah, me too."
"Hey!" Kaoru's voice rang, bright and full of bubbling humor, across the lawn. "The Boss wants to know if everything's ready."
Haruhi and Hikaru jumped apart like Kaoru's voice had lit a fire under their feet.
"Yeah, we're set!" Hikaru called back, battling the blush on his cheeks.
"I hate to interrupt," Kaoru said sweetly as the pair approached the door. "You looked so comfy out there, after all."
"Shove it," Hikaru suggested.
Kaoru drew back in exaggerated offense.
"Oh, Hikaru! How could you say such cruel things, to your only brother who loves you so?"
Hikaru smirked before reaching forward and snagging his brother's hands, dragging the younger Hitaachin against his chest.
"I'm sorry, Kaoru. I say such stupid things sometimes. But I'd cut out my own heart before I'd ever say anything to truly hurt you."
Kaoru's eyes sparkled as he brought his palms up to frame his brother's face.
"Don't say that, Hikaru! I can't stand the thought of you in so much agony!"
"Oh, Kaoru, I'll never leave your side!"
"Hikaru!"
As they embraced, Haruhi rolled her eyes.
"Give me a break," she muttered.
It wasn't perfect. When they turned to grin at her, Hikaru's was still smaller than Kaoru's. And when Tamaki carefully wheeled his mother outside in her doctor-issued wheelchair, Hikaru avoided his eyes, as if he feared the older boy sensing Haruhi's hug on him.
But when they sat on the benches surrounding Haruhi's mother, joining her in the early afternoon sunshine, he settled himself on her free side, instead of on the opposite bench.
"Are you feeling better today, Miss Anne?" Hunni asked, cheerfully swinging his feet.
The delicate woman, swathed in shawls and blankets, gave the boy a gentle smile.
"Yes, thank you," she said. "I'm so sorry if I frightened you all yesterday. But I really am feeling much better now."
She was still clutching her handkerchief, and her face was white and waxy in the dappled light peeking through the tree leaves, but Haruhi chose not to mention this.
"I also have to thank you for preparing the meals in my absence, Mitsukuni," the woman continued warmly. "You are quite the excellent cook."
The boy blushed and beamed.
"Aw, thanks. It was nothing!"
Anne-Sophie smiled.
"I really am so glad that you're all here," she said. "Please, won't you tell me more stories, like you did yesterday? I found them quite…soothing."
"Of course, Mother," Tamaki said swiftly, while the others nodded in the background.
"Since you enjoyed Hunni-sempai's cooking so much," Hikaru said, and Haruhi started, before giving him an encouraging smile. "I guess you'd like to hear about the time he and Haruhi gave us cooking lessons. Remember that, guys?"
Just like that, Haruhi's smile vanished. As Anne-Sophie watched, and smiled, Haruhi leaned back on the bench and squeezed her eyes shut tight.
"Oh, God," she said, her voice soft and haunted. "The horror."
...
A/N: What circumstances could cause Haruhi to remember cooking with such terror? And now that one friendship is on the road to being fixed, can the other be saved? Stay tuned to find out. Happy Reading!