Remember When 2: Ties That Bind

by Strix 4

When a relationship is formed out of friendship, there is inevitable fallout. But when a crisis prompts Tamaki to call on his friends, can they do enough damage control to be the family that he so desperately needs? Sequel to 'Remember When'.

7. Chapter 7

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE MINI-HIATUS. Trust me when I say that it was neither planned, nor wanted. But, now that my soul is done being crushed by the harsh demands of REALITY, I can devote more of my time to you, some of my favoritest people. Thank you for all of you who have been so patient during this (WAY TOO LONG) stretch between updates...I love you all so very much, and really appreciate your continued support! You guys are absolutely fantabulous!

I do not own Ouran High School Host Club; it belongs to Bisco Hatori.

Ulterior Motives

"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."

"Hey," Tamaki protested, shooting his girlfriend an elegant pout. "We weren't that bad."

Haruhi opened one eye to glower him into submission.

"Darling, what did you do?" Anne-Sophie asked, amusement ripe in her weakened voice.

Haruhi muttered something largely unintelligible, although the scattered words 'fire', 'freak shows', and 'seriously, what the hell Kyoya-sempai' could be heard.

"Ah," Hikaru said, choking a little on the half-apologetic snicker in his throat. "Well. I guess you could say we weren't the fastest learners in this particular subject."

….

"No."

"But…but!"

"No."

"My darling daughter, your loving father respectfully requests that you do as he asks!"

"…No."

"DO YOU WANT DADDY TO STARVE? IS THAT IT?"

"Sempai. You just told me that you have seventeen cooks on your family's payroll. I think you'll be fine."

Tamaki, on his knees with his hands folded into an elegant appeal, released a strangled sound and toppled over sideways. Haruhi, who'd been enduring Tamaki's impassioned pleading for the better part of the afternoon with a twitching temple and increasingly sarcastic tones, simply rolled her eyes.

"So unloved," Tamaki woefully informed the wooden floor, as the twins came up and prodded him with their shoe tips.

"Come on, Sempai," Haruhi said, shaking her head in exasperation. "I've put up with a lot of your crazy schemes. But this one is just stupid."

"It is not stupid!" In a flash, Tamaki was back on his feet, almost knocking the poking twins on their butts in the process. "You cook all the time!"

"I don't have a kitchen staff with cooks from every continent," Haruhi reminded him dryly. "Look, Sempai. The odds of you ever having to cook for yourself are pretty slim. So it just doesn't make sense to teach you how."

Tamaki was in his corner so fast, his actual movement went unseen. Haruhi sighed, and rubbed her hands across her eyes.

"Are you really so strongly opposed to it, Haruhi?" Kyoya asked, without looking away from his little computer screen.

Haruhi lowered her hands in order to stare at Kyoya with the proper air of incredulity.

"Yeah," Hikaru agreed, creeping closer to the girl's side. "Aren't you the one-"

"Who's all about the learning?" Kaoru finished, separating from his brother to cling to her open arm.

Almost absently, Haruhi shook off the two boys wrapped around her, too caught up in her own bewilderment.

"What," she said. "You all want cooking lessons?"

A multitude of excited bouncing answered her confused inquiry.

"Learn how to cook commoner food?" Hikaru said. "Hell yes!"

Kaoru added, "Everything you make for us is always so good."

"Mm," Mori agreed, from his seat across the room.

"I don't have any particular interest in learning," Kyoya offered. "As you say, there isn't much need. But at least it will stop Tamaki from whining."

Haruhi furrowed her brow at all of them.

"I can help, Haru-chan!" Hunni sang merrily, skipping up on her left. "I already know how to cook."

The girl in question blinked down at the grinning boy at her side.

"Hunni-sempai. You do?"

Hunni laughed.

"Well, sometimes my parents tell the cooks to stop giving me so many sweets. So I learned how to make my own!"

Visions of Hunni wielding plates of expertly steamed shellfish at the Okinawa estate danced across Haruhi's memory.

"Oh, right. I suppose I've eaten your cooking already, Hunni-sempai. Sorry."

Hunni twinkled in her general direction.

"Don't worry, Haru-chan! Your cooking is so much yummier than mine anyway!"

Haruhi flashed him a tiny smile, and then sighed.

"You're not all going to fit inside my kitchen," she pointed out. "So where do you suggest we do the teaching?"

Kyoya tossed her an absent finger-wave.

"Not to worry. I reserved the Home Education classrooms a week ago."

"Mommy is always so reliable," Tamaki beamed, bursting out of his corner, while Haruhi sputtered disbelievingly in the background.

"Tamaki-sempai's only been bothering me about this for three days! And…and how did you know that I'd even agree?"

Kyoya turned his attention away from his computer long enough to give her a mock-reproachful smirk.

"Haruhi, really."

"You're terrifying," Hikaru cheerfully observed, while Kaoru nodded his agreement.

"Mm," Kyoya acknowledged, and he didn't exactly sound offended.

"Fine," Haruhi recovered, because really, she should have known better than to ask. "When are the rooms reserved?"

Kyoya gave his glasses a careless nudge as he double-checked a piece of data by cross-referencing it with his little black book.

"Twenty minutes," he answered, voice as lazy as a nap in the summer sunshine. "I assumed you'd hold out against Tamaki at least a little longer; you caved sooner than my calculations predicted." Actual humor flashed in Kyoya's dark eyes, and it was sort of beautiful, even though it was somewhat sadistically motivated. "I expected better from you, Haruhi."

Haruhi fisted a hand in her closely cropped hair and squeezed her eyes shut for a brief second.

"Hrrrrngh."

Kyoya tapped away merrily for a few more moments, although his little black book was closed and properly stored, apparently content with the discomfort he'd caused, before powering down his computer.

"Shall we go?"

He swept by Haruhi on a tasteful little storm cloud of satisfaction. The girl opened one eye at his back and fumed in his general direction.

"Grrrrngh."

Hunni laughed and tugged on Haruhi's wrist.

"Come on, Haru-chan! This is going to be super fun!"

Haruhi continued to look doubtful, all the way from Music Room 3 to the Home Education classrooms on the first floor.

Kyoya had reserved all three of the separate rooms, as the outside two contained only two stoves, where the middle room contained three. Haruhi turned to the cluster of boys to tell them to split themselves off, took one look at the instinctive groupings that just sort of naturally occurred, and shook her head with great vehemence.

"No."

"What, Haruhi?" Kaoru asked curiously.

"There's no way that I'm splitting you guys up according to the natural order," she clarified firmly. "Mori-sempai, you'll be fine on your own, but Hikaru and Kaoru, it'll take approximately thirty seconds for you to get bored with the whole cooking thing, and I am not getting nailed by whatever prank you manage to concoct with the cooking ingredients." In tandem, the twins crossed their arms and pouted. Haruhi made a face at them, before turning to contemplate her two remaining 'students'. "And Kyoya-sempai…I really, really don't trust you in a room with both Tamaki-sempai and fire without constant supervision."

Tamaki's violet eyes widened in innocent confusion. Kyoya's sinister semi-smirk sent a chill racing down Haruhi's spine.

"So," she said, shaking off the shiver. "Mori-sempai, if you could take Tamaki-sempai and Hikaru with you in the middle room there. You'll be able to keep those two in line, just make sure that you take the stove in-between theirs. Kyoya-sempai, you and Kaoru can work in the next room over. Hopefully, the joy you'd gain from blowing Tamaki-sempai sky-high makes your obvious desire to deep-fry everyone else in the Club a little less exciting." She gave a pleased nod. "We'll leave the third room empty for now."

There were heavy sulks from at least three of the students as Haruhi shooed them towards their respective classrooms. Mori was as blank-faced as ever, and Tamaki was too excited about learning to cook to care about who his room-buddies were, but Hikaru and Kaoru pouted at the thought of separation, and Haruhi was convinced that Kyoya actually looked displeased about his botched opportunity to set Tamaki on fire.

"I'm not going to wait around forever," Haruhi pointed out, voice dryer than dust, as the twins launched themselves into each other's arms.

"Hikaru, promise that even though we're not together, you'll still think of me?"

"Only of you, Kaoru, I swear. Not even this forced separation could banish you from my thoughts!'

"Hikaru, I want to stay with you forever!"

"Kaoru, I'll never let you go!"

"Uh-huh," Haruhi muttered, and absently batted at a pair of pale hands that reached out as she walked by and attempted to make her the meat between two Hitaachin bread slices.

"Haru-chan, I'll start with Kyo-chan and Kao-chan, okay?" Hunni called out as she scooted past to safety.

"Oh. Don't you want to work with Mori-sempai, Hunni-sempai?"

Hunni grinned, tucking his hands behind his back and rocking a little on his heels.

"Takashi and I are going to be friends forever and ever and ever," he reminded her. "So, it's fun to play with other people sometimes, you know?"

Haruhi's eyes softened, and she smiled a little.

"Right," she said. "Okay. I'll get the other three started, and then we can switch around, if you want. Rotate in and out so that everybody gets to work with everybody."

Hunni beamed at her.

"That's a good idea, Haru-chan!"

Haruhi laughed, a soft, almost breathless sound.

"Well, Mom always said that having more than one pair of hands in the kitchen could only make the food better. More lessons to share, you know?"

Hunni just stared at her for a moment, huge brown eyes dark and uncharacteristically serious, as the other boys filtered into their designated rooms around them, laughing and, in Tamaki's case, chattering excitedly. Then, Hunni gave one great, unexpected bounce, and wrapped his arms around Haruhi hard enough to feel the soft, feminine swell of her hips through her figure-hiding jacket.

"I like your mom, Haru-chan," he whispered, surprisingly fierce, into the embrace. "I think she's the best one ever."

Haruhi, who'd been busy up until that moment trying to regain the air she'd lost during Hunni's spontaneous tackle, froze. After a long second, during which she catalogued the familiar pain that seeped across her insides like poison and found that it didn't hurt so bad, not with Hunni's arms around her, Haruhi relaxed, and let her chin rest on the soft blonde hair that just reached her jaw.

"Thanks, Hunni-sempai," she whispered back, and then the boy was gone, bouncing into his room of instruction with a cheerful warrior's whoop. Haruhi shook her head, fought the fond smile that played across her lips like the most beautiful music notes, and strode towards her own waiting students.

"Okay," she said, upon entering. "We're going to start with the basics."

Tamaki, who had somehow managed to find the most ridiculous and elaborate apron in existences in the five minutes Haruhi had left him unaccompanied, executed some sort of excited shimmy against the stove. He grabbed for the nearest ingredient, which happened to be a bag of sugar, and waved it over his head like some sort of champion's trophy.

"You mean, like which ingredient goes where, Haruhi?" he asked.

"No," Haruhi deadpanned back. "You've never cooked a day in your life." She grabbed a large metal object from Mori's station and held it up. "This is a mixing bowl. You use it to combine ingredients."

"Aw, Haruhi," Hikaru complained, golden eyes narrowed. "We know what a bowl is for."

"Shut up," Haruhi suggested pleasantly. "I don't doubt that you know what a bowl is supposed to be used for. However, I also don't doubt that you could easily come up with at least fifty different ways to do something with said bowl that would force me to murder you, and bury your body under the kitchen tiles. Therefore, we're going to go over every piece of equipment, and its proper use." Hikaru looked like he was about to protest once again, but the way Haruhi held up her next object (a little forceful, and with just a hint of homicide), had him rapidly reshuffling his arguments. "This is a spatula. It is to be used for mixing purposes only, and certainly not at all to poke your fellow bakers."

….

"Tamaki-sempai. If you don't stop throwing that sugar in the air, I'm going to set your apron on fire."

"But look, darling daughter! It's like the beautiful first snowfall, and perfectly symbolizes the pure and beautiful strength of both my heart and my attractive facial features."

"…Maybe I should have let you work with Kyoya-sempai after all."

….

"Wow. Um. Okay, Mori-sempai. Can you tell me what you did wrong here?"

"I burned it."

"Yeah. That you did."

"Burned the holy hell out of it!"

"Shut up, Hikaru, you haven't even mixed anything worth baking yet. That's okay, Mori-sempai. I burned my first few cakes too. Why don't you…ah…deposit that somewhere and start again?"

"Mmm."

What sounded like concrete meeting the metal counter echoed through the room as Mori fulfilled Haruhi's request.

"Ah. Aha. Don't worry about that, Mori-sempai. Just get started on re-mixing the ingredients."

"Mmm."

….

"Heh. Well. That's…just lovely, Kyoya-sempai."

It was a pink monstrosity, complete with ruffles and lace and the word "Mommy" stitched in red across the front. The only thing that even possibly deserved more attention was the glare of the person wearing it.

"I didn't choose to wear it. The moron left it here for me, and then came by the room to make sure I had it on."

Ah. So that's where Tamaki had wandered off to during his earlier bathroom break.

"Ha. Aha. I see."

"Stop laughing."

"Hrrnk. Really. Aha. I'm not."

"You will pay for this."

….

"Tamaki-sempai, if you open the oven door every five seconds, the cake will never bake properly."

Tamaki, bent at the waist with his nose pressed against the warm glass window, shimmied his butt in a way that had Haruhi rolling her eyes and praying for patience.

"But, look, Haruhi! It's…fluffing! So exciting!"

"If I gave you Silly Putty and a spoon, you'd be entertained for hours, wouldn't you?"

….

"Hey. HEY! WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE, KYOYA-SEMPAI? YOUR CAKE IS ON FIRE!"

"I'm aware of that Haruhi." Perfectly manicured fingernails were studied with practiced nonchalance. "And what would you be expecting me to do about it?"

"ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? PUT IT OUT!"

"Hmm. I don't believe we covered that in our training."

"GAAAAACK!"

….

"Okay, Hikaru. Nice and slow now, all right?"

"I got it, I got it. Jeez, Haruhi, you're such a nag!"

"Well excuse me for being paranoid! Every time I hand you guys something different, you ALWAYS find a way to-"

"Oh, hey, what does this little dial do?"

whhhHHHHHHRRRRRRRRSPLAT!

"That was totally AWESOME! Haruhi, you didn't tell me that this commoner mixing machine could be used as a cake batter explosion device!"

There were several seconds, in which the rising lethal intent in the air slowly pierced Hikaru's cloud of awe and anticipatory imaginings.

"Oh. Oh, crap. Sorry, Haruhi!"

"Yeah. Do that. Okay. I'm just going to go stick my head in the sink, then."

….

"KYOYA-SEMPAI! NOT AGAIN!"

"Must you shout, Haruhi? I find your constant overreactions extremely tiresome."

"THE STOVE IS ON FIRE. IT'S ON FIRE. AGAIN."

"Brilliant deduction. What an observant lawyer you'll make."

"IF THE SCHOOL BURNS DOWN, I AM TOTALLY TELLING THE FIREMEN THAT IT WAS YOUR FAULT."

….

"Wow, Kaoru. You really seem to have a knack for this!"

The younger boy flushed with pleasure, and fussed over his cooling cake. It was a little brown around the edges, but perfectly acceptable for a first try.

"I had a little trouble understanding at first. But then, I realized that the recipe is like a story. It has a beginning, and an end, and the way the ingredients fit together is like the way the characters interact."

"What a neat way to think of it!"

The boy continued to beam, until his eyes suddenly skittered nervously to the side. He cleared his throat, and beckoned Haruhi closer with a crooked finger.

"Can you tell Kyoya-sempai to stop trying to blow up the kitchen? I think he's trying to sabotage my cake!"

Haruhi shook her head sadly.

"Kaoru," she said mournfully. "Kaoru. I don't think he's faking it for some ulterior motive. I really think he's just that bad."

"Wait, seriously?"

A third voice entered the conversation, as smooth as silk, as polite as afternoon tea, and as subzero as the frozen tundra.

"You are aware that I can hear you, right?"

"HARUHI, DON'T LET HIM EXPLODE MY CAKE."

….

"Um. Mori-sempai? You set the timer, right? Like I told you to?"

"Mmm."

"Okay. So, ah. What happened?"

"I don't know. It just came out like this."

"I…see."

"Wow, Mori-sempai, you could kill a person with this brick!"

"SHUT UP, HIKARU."

….

"Wow, Tamaki-sempai. You look really focused. Good for you."

"I'm trying to figure it out."

"What, the recipe? It's pretty straightforward, Sempai."

"No, not that. I was just wondering how to move the Grand Piano from the club room to here. Such a work of art as my impending cake surely deserves its own background music, don't you think?"

"…Oh, God. You can never live on your own. You'll be dead within days."

"I bet if I called the movers now, they could have it ready before the oven timer goes off."

"…Your thought processes literally break my brain."

…

"HOW. NO. HOW."

"You sound surprised, Haruhi."

"I TURNED OFF YOUR STOVE. TURNED IT OFF COMPLETELY. I TOOK AWAY YOUR COOKING MATERIALS. HOW IS IT ON FIRE AGAIN?"

"I really couldn't say."

"YOU ARE A MENACE TO THE ENTIRE WORLD OF BAKED PASTRIES."

….

Hours later, after the last flames had been extinguished, and the last bit of cake batter had been scraped off the ceiling, Haruhi and Hunni were found stretched out, face-down, on the floor of the empty third classroom.

"Hey," Hikaru said, poking Haruhi with his foot, because he was too scared to accidently rouse Hunni-sempai if the boy was actually sleeping. "Now's no time for a nap. You have to come and tell us how we did."

"It can never been unseen," Haruhi whispered, her voice a haunted creak of a sound against the kitchen tiles.

"Haru-chan, I hurt," Hunni-sempai whimpered. "I hurt everywhere. And I think my eyes are bleeding."

Hikaru stuck his hands in his pockets, and waited them out. After about five more minutes of nightmare-like shivering and cold sweats, Haruhi and Hunni finally peeled themselves off the floor. They stumbled into the middle classroom like the walking dead, where the rest of the Host Club had assembled to receive their grades.

They went to Kaoru first, because he was the only one they could stand to look at without shuddering in remembered horror. His cake sat beside him, a proud and perfectly frosted display.

"You did well, Kao-chan," Hunni-sempai said, and managed a wilted smile.

"Yeah," Haruhi agreed in an almost-regular voice. "I'll get you some harder recipes to work on. You've got a touch for it."

Kaoru blushed and preened a little, fidgeting around his successful attempt.

"Hikaru," Haruhi continued, turning towards the older twin. His cake was sturdy, but sloppily frosted and a little lumpy from too-quick mixing. "Yours isn't terrible for a first attempt, but you need to be more patient. Each step takes time."

"Don't be so quick, Hika-chan," Hunni agreed. "I super-dooper promise that your cake will be much yummier if you don't go so fast."

Hikaru shrugged, more excited about the acquisition of his new mixing weapon than the cooking seminar itself.

"Mori-sempai," Haruhi said, and turned towards the older boy with helpless hands spread wide. "I just don't get it. I really don't. I even sat with your for the entire twenty-minute baking time for one of them, and it still came out burned."

Mori gazed stoically out across his little collection of charred and blackened cake-bricks.

"Mmm," he agreed.

"Don't worry, Takashi," Hunni said, with a ghost of his former grin. "You'll always have me to make your cake for you."

"Mmm," Mori said again, and it was much happier this time.

"Tamaki-sempai," Haruhi said, turning towards the bouncing blonde. His cake was very artistically frosted, but sagging in the middle due to under-cooking. "Your problem is similar to Hikaru's. You get…a little too excited once the cake goes in the oven."

"Every time you open the oven door, heat gets out," Hunni advised, nodding sagely. "And if you do that, Tama-chan, then the cake gets all sad and droopy because it's not warm enough to stand up right."

Tamaki gasped, clutched his wobbly cake to his chest like a precious child, and transported himself to the furthest corner of the kitchen. Haruhi ignored him, too busy staring a little crazily at the final student. Kyoya had nothing to show, because everything he'd attempted to cook had been burned to ashes, including the cast-iron stove, which Haruhi still didn't understand.

"Kyoya-sempai," she said in a hollow sort of voice. "I don't have any advice for you. Just. Please. Never bake again."

"Ever," Hunni agreed earnestly, his blonde curls bouncing as he nodded.

A slow, satisfied smirk curled Kyoya's lips, and a sneaking sort of suspicion took root in Haruhi's stomach.

"Deal," he agreed smoothly. "And don't worry. I've already put in the order for a new stove to be delivered."

For a moment, Haruhi could only blink, and wonder why that statement set off alarm bells inside her brain. And then she remembered Kyoya-sempai sitting at his computer for that extra few minutes inside the club room, tapping away, even though his little black book had been closed.

"And when exactly did you place that order, Kyoya-sempai?"

One perfectly formed black eyebrow rose majestically behind stylish and expensive glasses.

"Haruhi, really," he chided her yet again, and the girl reached once more to rip at her hair.

"HRRRRRRNGH."

….

"On purpose?" Tamaki asked, eyes wide, as he stared at his friend. "Mommy Dear, you set all of those cakes on fire on purpose?"

"That was never proven," Kyoya smoothly countered, and it was good because it was communication, but Haruhi briefly considered resurrecting her old hair-tugging habit as she realized that Kyoya refused to look at Tamaki as he said it.

"All those cakes," Hunni whispered, and he sounded very, very traumatized. "Wasted."

"Don't be sad, Mitsukuni," Anne-Sophie said, and Tamaki fidgeted protectively at the weak, breathy quality of her voice. "Not everyone has the domestic touch."

"Not for baking anyway," Kaoru jumped in, before the boss could inquire after his mother's health, and break the spell they were trying to weave. "But some domestic duties are universal. Like babies."

Across the circle, Haruhi saw a still determinedly stand-offish Kyoya stiffen. It was hardly for more than a second, and only really noticeable in his shoulders for that brief second, but she'd been watching him intently, and so to her it was as bright as a neon sign.

Gotcha, she thought, and gave a grim little smile.

...

A/N: What about this particular memory can make the ever-masked Kyoya flinch? Can Haruhi and the gang get to him before he grows even colder? Stay tuned to find out. Happy Reading! (And any "Asylum" fans out there...keep your eyes especially peeled).