A/N: So, I've been sitting on this chapter for about two weeks. Because the beginning was fine, came out all nice. And then the end. And Kyoya would. Not. Talk. To. Me. Seriously. Emotionally stunted jerk. And then the website wouldn't let me upload it. Hrrrrrngh...anger. But here it is! And it's pivotal (like...really pivotal). Anyone who's interested in an explanation as to my writing decisions, I'll tack one on to the end of the chapter.
Much love, as always, to my bb's, you wonderful readers and reviewers. You never fail to make me smile. Even you lurkers...I love you in your own special way!
I do not own Ouran High School Host Club; it belongs to Bisco Hatori.
The Breakdown
"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 put forth, before the boss could jump in and inquire after his mother's health, and break the spell they were trying to weave. "But some domestic duties are universal. Like babies."
Across he circle, Haruhi saw a determinedly stand-offish Kyoya stiffen. It was hardly for more than a moment, 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.
"Babies?" Anne-Sophie repeated, and one delicate eyebrow rose magnificently on her face as she turned to address her son. "But Ma Petite, you told me that you and Haruhi had not yet-"
"NO MOTHER!" Tamaki shrieked, and leapt off the bench like it had burned him.
Haruhi watched the rest of the club members tilt gracefully in their seats, so as to avoid Tamaki's flailing dance of denial, and wondered if her head might actually explode due to all the blood rushing to fill her face.
"I have cousins," she managed, around a tongue that felt thick and horrified in her mouth. Tiny Tamakis. With fluffy blonde hair and endless amounts of dramatic energy, and pouts perfected in the womb. Oh, God. "Little ones. They live in town. And back then, before I left for college, I was the perfect babysitting candidate."
…...
"Dad. You want me to do what?"
Haruhi stood in the massive pavement parking circle that waited just outside the front doors of Ouran Academy. Students were dropped off each morning and picked up each afternoon by their luxurious family cars. The Fujioka five-seater, small and gray and sedate, looked horribly out of place amongst the endless rows of shiny black limousines.
Behind the wheel, Ranka fluttered like an apologetic butterfly, wafting soft perfumes and helplessly batting heavily caked eyelashes.
"I'm so sorry, Sweetie," he offered. "But I told your Aunt Yuki that I'd watch the baby today."
Haruhi frowned contemplatively at the car seat strapped in the back.
"So, why can't you do it?"
Ranka danced fretful fingers across the steering wheel in order to properly illustrate his dismay.
"My boss called," he explained. "Half of the staff on today's rotation got food poisoning from whichever restaurant they called for lunch. I don't have a choice, Honey. I have to go in."
"Okay," Haruhi said. "But, Dad. I don't think I can leave. The final bell just rang; I've got Host Club in fifteen minutes."
"You can't duck out for one day, even for a family emergency?"
"I could," Haruhi corrected darkly, and wondered how much Kyoya would add to her debt for the miss.
Ranka waved one perfectly manicured hand.
"It's not the end of the world, Haruhi," he said. "After all, the Host Club is really more of a giant tea party, right? A place to practice etiquette?"
Haruhi thought of her fellow female classmates, probably the farthest thing from refined as they swooned and screamed over both the subtle (Kyoya, Mori, Mitsukuni) and the blatant (Hikaru, Kaoru), and even the obscene (Tamaki) flirting that took place in Music Room Three every afternoon.
"...Uh-huh."
"So, it'll be mostly girls there, right?" Ranka continued happily, blissfully unaware of his daughter's doubtful tone.
"...Well, I guess that's true."
"Then you have nothing to worry about," Ranka said, and tipped one pink-shadowed eyelid in a wink. "Girls love babies. It's instinctive. Trust me; you bring that baby up to your little tea party, and no one will complain."
Haruhi thought of Kyoya's face, which could express both polite interest and sweetly homicidal intent simultaneously, and sighed.
"Okay, Dad," she conceded, and resigned herself to a politely phrased, "I am adding to your debt based on your being addled with infancy today, Haruhi'.
With the ease of someone who had run this ring before, Haruhi reached into the backseat and detached the car seat. Looping it over her arm, she accepted the diaper bag her dad passed through the window and hooked it over her shoulder.
"There's a bottle in there," Ranka advised. "I fed the baby before I left, so you've got about two hours."
"Got it," Haruhi said.
"Thanks, Sweetie!" Ranka called cheerfully as his daughter turned resolutely towards the school. "Have fun!"
Haruhi grumbled all the way to Music Room Three, and ignored the strange looks she received from the straggling students as best she could.
She tossed a blanket protectively over the baby's face before opening the door, and irritably batted away the rose petals that rushed against her own head.
"Haruhi!" Tamaki cried before she'd taken two steps inside the room. "You're late, Darling Daughter! Daddy was starting to get-"
He screeched to halt, mid-bounce, as his violet eyes fell on the carrier crooked in Haruhi's elbow.
"Sorry about this, Sempai," Haruhi started with a sigh. "My Dad stopped by. I've got a bit of a family emergency."
Hikaru, who's interest had been drawn by Tamaki's shocked stupid-surprise, wandered over. He tilted his head curiously at the bundle swaddled inside the seat.
"Haruhi," he asked, taking an absent bite out of the banana he'd had left over from lunch. "What the hell is that?"
"It's a baby, Hikaru."
"Uh-huh. Why is it here?"
Haruhi rolled her eyes, and set the car seat on the floor. With quick, practiced movements, she unbuckled the baby and cuddled the blankets in her arms.
"This is my cousin," she announced to the room. "Misaki. She's six months old. My dad said he'd watch her today, but there was an emergency at the bar, and he had to go in. He brought her to me instead." Stroking an absent finger across the chubby baby's tightly curled fist, she turned to face the Shadow King. "I can leave, Kyoya-sempai. If you think she'll be in the way."
"BABY!"
"TAKASHI, LOOK, SHE'S SO CUTE!
Ignoring Tamaki and Hunni's joyful screams completely, Kyoya nudged his glasses up his nose, looking for all the world as unruffled as if Haruhi brought in babies everyday. For a quiet moment, he and the owl-eyed, rosy-cheeked baby regarded each other silently from across the room.
Then, Misaki let out a bubbling giggle of delight, and reached her chubby arms in Kyoya's direction.
"Enchanting," Kyoya remarked dryly, before turning his attention back to Haruhi. "As much enjoyment as I get from constantly ringing up your debt, Haruhi, your request list today is almost twice its normal size. I'm afraid it would simply be bad for business to disappoint all the girls who came to see you."
"Right," Haruhi sighed. "Misaki can sit by me, then, in her car seat. She won't be too much trouble; I'll have to feed her once, and then she'll probably fall asleep."
"STAY IN HER CAR SEAT? DADDY POSTIVELY FORBIDS YOU TO HIDE THAT BEAUTIFUL BABY AWAY SO HARSHLY!"
"It would hardly be hiding her, Sempai," Haruhi said dryly, giving Misaki an absent bounce. The baby cooed, delighted by the movement. "She can see from the car seat."
Tamaki wailed, and shook his head emphatically.
"You didn't really think you'd escape without the Boss wanting to hold the baby, did you?" Hikaru asked under his breath.
"I hoped," Haruhi muttered back, while Kaoru snickered in the background. "Do you want to hold her for a little while, Sempai?" she asked, raising her voice in a very resigned sort of way. "She won't be hidden then, right?"
Tamaki was across the room in less than two seconds. It was really quite amazing. Even Misaki blinked, obviously impressed.
"Mind her head," Haruhi instructed, as she carefully passed the slightly squirming bundle into Tamaki's waiting arms. "She's still too little to support it very well."
For one very confusing moment, during the exchange, the backs of Haruhi's hands got trapped by Tamaki's upturned palms. Their joined hands held the weight of the baby together, and Tamaki glanced up to beam a bright grin in Haruhi's direction.
Something weirdly warm and unrecognizable bubbled in Haruhi's stomach. She quickly removed her hands and stepped back, leaving Misaki to furrow her tiny brow at the strange face now looming above her.
Tamaki melted like a big puddle of goo, his lavender eyes going liquid, and began to coo nonsense syllables in Misaki's direction.
Hunni popped up at Tamaki's side, and aimed a big, beaming smile at the baby.
"Me next, Tama-chan!"
Haruhi just sighed.
An hour later found Music Room Three in even more of a flutter than usual. As it usually was, Ranka's womanly insight had been spot on. The girls were in an uproar over the Host Club's tiniest visitor. When Tamaki had held her, alternately bouncing the baby and coming up with sticky sweet words about how he couldn't wait for the right woman to give him a baby of his own, the girls all but erupted into effervescent explosions of estrogen.
When Hunni held her, pulling faces to make Misaki laugh and dangling Usa-chan over her head, the clients almost died from the sheer cute.
When the twins awkwardly juggled the baby between them, helpless smiles mingling with the obvious discomfort in their eyes, the girls sighed over bad boy hearts being melted by rosy cheeked babies.
Now, Mori sat serenely, Misaki balanced on his broad lap. She'd started to fuss in Kaoru's hands, and the Hitaachin had gone into a tight-lipped panic. Haruhi had been on her way over, when Mori had intercepted, scooping Misaki up with ease.
"Hungry," he'd diagnosed to the mildly gob-smacked Haruhi.
She'd handed over the bottle without a word. Mori had cradled Misaki in the crook of one arm, and fed her without ever pausing in his constant perusal of Hunni's conversation. After she'd finished, Mori had flipped Misaki gently on her stomach in his lap, patting lightly at her back to make her burp. Once she'd been relieved, Misaki had pressed her face against Mori's knee, and consented to sleep with a soft, happy hiccup.
Haruhi volunteered to make the next batch of instant coffee, deathly afraid that if she didn't occupy her hands, she'd join the herd of swooning, cooing fangirls lurking behind Mori's chair.
"I'll take her, Mori-sempai," she offered, once she was sure she'd reigned in her own admiration. "She won't be able to sleep well with all this light. I'll just tuck her away in the back room."
"But, but, what if she wakes up?" Tamaki asked fretfully, performing an anxious dance behind Haruhi as she scooped her snoozing cousin into her arms. "What if she starts to cry? Sweet Haruhi, surely you won't sequester that poor child so cruelly?"
Haruhi rolled her eyes, patting gently at Misaki's warm back as she rocked her cousin across the room.
"She'll be fine, Sempai," she said. "I'll leave the door open. Trust me; if this baby starts crying, everyone will be aware of it."
The girls cooed quiet goodbyes to the baby, blowing soft kisses in her direction as Haruhi walked past. Haruhi smiled at them gratefully; they really had put up with the little trespasser quite well.
Inside the back room, Haruhi dimmed the lights. She gave in to the urge to wrap Misaki a in quick cuddle, inhaling the soft and milky sweet scent of baby from her feather soft cheek, before she tucked her cousin into the waiting car seat.
"Shh," Haruhi murmured, when Misaki stirred and made fretful noises. "Go to sleep." She cast a rueful glance at the open door, where Tamaki, Mori, and Hunni were all hovering with varying degrees of visible anxiety. "I've got other kids to corral."
She settled the car seat on the soft couch and gently herded the peanut gallery back to their duties, leaving the door wide open in case Misaki woke up. But the baby was truly tuckered out from all the over-stimulation she'd received, and spent the remainder of the Host Club hours snoozing away in her seat.
"Thanks for the help, guys," Haruhi said, once the last client wandered her merry way out the door. She was bent over the table she'd seen her last client at, her head pillowed on her arms. "It was great of you to let Misaki stay."
"Don't worry, Haru-chan!" Hunni called cheerfully, kicking his feet aimlessly against his chair as he enjoyed his after-club cake. "Your cousin is super cute!"
Haruhi smiled at Mori's soft 'Mm' of agreement.
"Thanks, Hunni-sempai. I guess she is."
"The ladies loved her," Hikaru pointed out from his ungainly sprawl on a nearby sofa. "And I don't think the Boss' feet touched the floor for one second after you unbuckled her from that little seat thing. Kyoya-sempai's probably typing up a flow chart of your cousin's productivity as we speak."
Haruhi chuckled, because yeah, she could pretty much see that happening.
"Where is Kyoya-sempai?" she asked, as the older boy failed to offer his dry and distinct opinion of Hikaru's assumptions of his activity. "And Tamaki-sempai, I haven't heard him flailing for at least five minutes."
"Kyoya-sempai went into the back room to get his computer," Kaoru offered, running an absent hand down his brother's leg. They'd been sitting side by side on the sofa, and after the last girl had shut the door behind her, Hikaru had flopped over like a lazy cat, resting his head on one cushion and tossing his feet over Kaoru's lap on the opposite side.
"Tama-chan went to the back room too," Hunni added. "I think he's poking at the baby."
Haruhi rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet.
"I'd better go rescue her, then. I needed to check on her anyway." A dark scowl rippled across her face. "If Sempai woke her up, I may have to knock his head against the wall."
Kaoru snorted and shoved Hikaru's legs off his lap. His brother made a sulky, sleepy sound of protest, and buried his head in the couch pillow.
"I'll go with you," he said. "I left my notebook back there."
They left Hikaru dozing, Hunni devouring, and Mori slouched in his chair.
The lights were still dimmed in the back room. Haruhi could see them through the open door. But as she prepared to enter, slender fingers caught her arm and tugged her to a stop. Bewildered, she turned to frown at Kaoru, who shook his head with a mischievous smile and gestured to the entryway.
Haruhi allowed Kaoru to maneuver her against the wall, and strained to hear the sounds he'd indicated. It was Tamaki, and Kyoya, having a soft conversation.
"Did you wake the baby, Mommy Dear?"
"No," Kyoya answered, and he sounded mildly harassed. "I came to get my computer, and when I turned around, she was staring at me. When I tried to keep moving, she started to cry."
"Oh, she's just lonely. Aren't you darling? You just wanted some attention from Mother Kyoya."
Behind her, Kaoru snickered at the cooing, kind of ridiculous quality of Tamaki's voice. Haruhi smiled as well, but mostly because she could imagine the look on Kyoya's face in response to it.
The faint sound of buckles being undone drifted through the door.
"Come on, darling. Let's get you out."
"Perhaps Haruhi would not approve of you manhandling her cousin without her permission," Kyoya said, and his voice was very dry.
"Nonsense. Misaki-chan adores me. Don't you, Ma Petite?"
A happy coo validated his words. Then the coo escalated into a loud squeal, and Kaoru gave a start at her back.
"Happy sound," Haruhi assured him quietly.
There was a short, awkward pause inside the room, in which Misaki continued to squeal, and the boys said absolutely nothing at all.
Then, Tamaki's voice; "It appears she wants you to hold her, Mommy Dear."
"I decline." Kyoya's answer was flat, and final.
And Tamaki rolled right over it.
"No need to be afraid! I assure you, she's quite sturdy!"
"Tamaki. I believe I said-"
"Here you go! Mind her head!"
Misaki's delighted giggle, and the sound of a soft, hissed breath, obviously drawn in through clenched teeth, whispered through the door.
"See? She's not so fragile. And look how much she likes you!"
It was apparently true. Misaki's blissful babbling came across loud and clear.
Behind her, Kaoru was whispering, his breath hitching over barely contained chuckles; "Kyoya-sempai's holding the baby...I would pay so much money...Hikaru would laugh himself sick..."
Haruhi gently elbowed him to shut him up, although the grin splitting her own face couldn't be denied.
"Haruhi, we have to look," Kaoru urged in whispers. "We will never get this chance again."
The immediate and instinctive counter-argument that bubbled to Haruhi's lips was that they couldn't intrude, not on this, and it caused a frown of confusion to crease her face. Intrude? That was her own cousin in there; she had every right to walk in.
So she ignored her own internal alarm bell, and motioned Kaoru forward. They crept the last inches toward the door, and peered inside around the frame.
It was exactly what they'd expected to see.
And at the same time, somehow, ridiculously more.
Kyoya was indeed cradling the baby. Misaki was balanced against his chest, and cooing cheerfully as she patted at his face with little hands, obviously enraptured by his glasses. Kyoya's arms were stiff and somewhat strained, and the way he held her without really holding her was nothing short of awkward (not that Misaki seemed to mind, or even notice). His face was straight and set, with only the barest hint of discomfort in the downturn of his lips.
But, while that image in itself was worth a second look or two, it wasn't what made the picture so arresting.
Tamaki's hands were pressed, one against Kyoya's upper arm, the other against his opposite shoulder, showing him second-hand how to hold the baby. He tugged gently at Kyoya's stance, trying to adjust him to comfort.
And wherever his hands touched, Kyoya's body relaxed. Immediately.
Eyes wide, Haruhi turned to Kaoru, to affirm the significance of what she was seeing. And she was thankful that it was this Hitaachin standing at her side, because his solemn face indicated that he definitely saw what she did. Hikaru would have been oblivious. Hunni might have seen it, but he'd spoil it by bubbling over with the joy of developed bonds. And Mori wouldn't have appreciated the significance unless Hunni pointed it out.
But Kaoru saw people. It was what made his stories so compelling; his golden eyes could read the underneath of people's emotions. And he saw what was so important now.
There was trust in Kyoya's relaxation; a calm and contented air that he never let outsiders see. That trust betrayed just how important Tamaki was. Haruhi had heard it once, in his voice when Kyoya had regaled her with the story of how he and Tamaki had met. And the signs of it were there, in Kyoya's fierce protectiveness of his king.
But it was never so blatant as it was now, so obvious.
Haruhi might have watched them for hours, lost in the spin of her own brain reeling with realizations. But Misaki chose that moment to rest her chin trustingly on Kyoya's shoulder, and her eyes tracked behind him, over to the door. She let out a loud, happy screech upon seeing Haruhi's familiar face.
"Haruhi!" Tamaki cried, as he always did upon seeing her. And his hands fell away from Kyoya's arms.
And everything in Kyoya that had relaxed went as tight as knots.
His face was perfectly composed when he spun in Haruhi's direction. He handed over the baby with an air of nonchalance, as if he cradled toddlers every day of the week. But when their skin brushed, nothing in him relaxed, and that was just as telling as the words he didn't say.
…...
Later, after Anne-Sophie had been tucked back into bed, exhausted by the short jaunt outdoors, Haruhi found herself in the midst of an impromptu pow-wow at the pretty kitchen table.
"Hikaru, Kaoru, are you sure?" she asked. "What you're offering is really generous-" And Haruhi was proud, so proud of them for it, "But it is your birthday. You have to spend it how you want."
"We know what we want," Hikaru insisted. "We're not going to ask the Boss to leave Anne-Sophie for a party arranged by our parents and full of people we don't know."
"We want to celebrate with our friends," Kaoru added quietly. His hand was twisted tight with Hikaru's on the table top. "Our real friends. We're all together now; it makes sense."
Arguments could be made against the 'all together now' portion of Kaoru's statement; Kyoya had excused himself rather frigidly as soon as Kaoru had finished recounting the Misaki story and hadn't come down from his room since. And while Tamaki had accompanied the other Club members to the table, he'd left almost immediately after accepting Hikaru's request, his eyes bright and brimming with emotion. The soft sounds of piano music had drifted down the stairs moments later, something sweet and serene and somehow unbearably sad.
"I think its a super-cute idea, Hika-chan!" Hunni announced, and bounced his way around the table in order to squirm into a tight embrace between the two boys. "Takashi and I will get streamers and balloons and other fun things to make your party ultra special!"
"Uh. Thanks, Hunni-sempai."
"Yeah, thanks."
Haruhi smiled a little, both at Hunni's boundless enthusiasm, and the faint traces of uncertainty lining the twins' faces at being touched with genuine affection.
"Guess that's settled, then," she said. "I suppose I should go tell Kyoya-sempai."
"Okay, Haru-chan!" Hunni sang out merrily, before roping the rest of the tables' occupants into a discussion about party favors and pin the tail on the donkey.
Haruhi let her heart swell a little as she looked at them, such familiar heads bent together once again when a part of her had feared they never would be. And then she turned towards the stairs and rolled up her metaphorical sleeves.
One dark head was missing from this discussion. There was no cool stream of logic and logistics and rationale to ease the jagged spikes of excitement that the twins, and Hunni, seemed to emit simply by being. Mori was too quiet to calm the crazy camp on his own.
She and Kyoya-sempai were long overdue for a little chat.
She climbed the stairs like a warrior walking toward battle. She knocked on the door with the grim determination of a soldier sent to the front lines.
Her brown eyes were as hard as steel when Kyoya-sempai answered her summons.
"We need to talk," she said. "Now."
"Later," Kyoya corrected. "I'm busy."
"Come on, Kyoya-sempai," she said, all cool logic and calm tones. Shouting worked with Tamaki and the twins, but Kyoya listened to nothing that wasn't presented to him in a rational manner. "We've been putting this off for a while. You can't avoid this conversation forever."
Kyoya reclined against the door frame, looking for all the world like disagreements completely relaxed him.
"On the contrary, Haruhi," he countered. "I haven't been avoiding anything. I fail to comprehend the necessity of this conversation that you are so insistent upon us having."
Oh, and he was whipping out the big words. Which Haruhi took to mean he was just drawing out what he wasn't actually saying at all.
"Hikaru and Kaoru are canceling their big birthday party back home," Haruhi said. "They're having it here instead, with just us. I'd rather have this resolved before then."
Kyoya said nothing. Just raised one eyebrow, as if to ask how his information applied to him exactly.
"Kyoya-sempai, I'm serious. They're making a big sacrifice for us. We owe it to them to at least make it a happy experience."
Still, nothing. Just the majestic rise of Kyoya's other eyebrow. And the tiniest hint of smug, resting somewhere around his upper lip, that finally tripped Haruhi's inner alarm trigger.
Without asking permission, she pressed one hand over his shoulder, against the mostly closed door, and gave it a nudge.
There was a suitcase sitting on Kyoya's impeccably made bed. It was neatly packed and waiting to be shut.
"What are you doing?" Haruhi demanded, somewhat absently, because her mind was blanking under a sudden stream of no, no, so much worse than I thought, don't know if I can fix this.
"I believe the evidence is self-explanatory, Haruhi."
"You're leaving. You're leaving." The first utterance was a realization; the second an accusal. "Kyoya-sempai, why?"
He gave a little shrug against the door frame. Haruhi wanted to hit him for it.
"My presence here is no longer required," he explained. "I fulfilled my obligation as a club member by alerting everyone to the situation and then making sure they arrived in a timely manner. Any additional assistance on my part would be...unnecessary."
Bastard. Cold, cruel, calculating bastard.
The sound of happy laughter drifted up the stairs, and soft piano music strained from the lower level, and he was really going to leave them like this, when they needed him most, when Tamaki needed Kyoya to hold him together.
And Haruhi was done.
She stomped out of the room, snagging Kyoya's wrist in her hand on the way. She wasn't strong, the boys would be the first ones to expound upon her frailness, but the element of surprise and sheer desperation helped her tow Kyoya out into the hallway and towards the stairs.
"Haruhi, I must insist that you release-"
"Be quiet, Kyoya-sempai," she snapped, and continued to tug.
Fear was churning in her gut, fear and anger, painting her insides sickly yellow and furious red. If Kyoya-sempai left, if she let him leave, it would never be fixed, their friendship could never be salvaged.
They would never again be able to stand in a room and recognize each other as Host Club. Friend. Family.
Kyoya was too dignified to jerk away. He'd chosen to present himself with indifference, and now he was stuck behind his own mask. However, he did dig his heels in very subtly when the shimmering sound of piano music increased in volume.
Haruhi merely clamped down on his wrist all the harder, and slapped the door with the flat of her hand, exposing Tamaki and his piano to Kyoya-sempai's eyes.
"He looks sad," Haruhi observed calmly, quietly. The eye of the storm, a peaceful moment of observation. She could already feel the winds of rage whipping as the other side of the tempest approached. "Because you haven't been fixing him."
Kyoya stumbled. Just a little, and hardly noticeable, but his eyes widened the barest bit behind his glasses, and his wrist went slack in Haruhi's grip.
He had a weakness, she knew, for Tamaki's beautiful music. And right now, he looked like heartbreak, his violet eyes swirling with sorrow even as his fingers coaxed sweet melodies from the keys.
But then that music (Tamaki's aches, expressed through song) came to a stop as Tamaki glanced up and saw his two most important people standing in the doorway.
The momentary spell was broken when the last shimmering, silver bright note trembled on the air and disappeared. Kyoya went rigid once again.
"Haruhi," Tamaki said, voice soft and sluggishly confused, as if their presence had pulled him from some other world. "Mon ami. What-"
Haruhi took a quick step to the side. Placing her hands on the small of Kyoya's back, she shoved the older boy into the room.
"He was leaving," she said. "He had his suitcase on the bed."
Tamaki's expression crumbled. Sorrow, and anguish, and pain filled his eyes and destroyed his tentative smile. Haruhi shut her eyes against it, couldn't even look at it, the hurt cramped her gut so deep.
"Why?" he whispered.
Kyoya's words were as logical as ever, but the smooth tone of his voice was gone, scraped raw by something that told Haruhi he wasn't immune.
"I see no reason to stay. There is little I can do for your mother; there is nothing I can accomplish while sequestered in the grasslands of France."
You won't do it, Kyoya-sempai. I know. Because...there's nothing to be gained from it.
Haruhi opened her eyes to banish the memory like a bad dream, and saw Tamaki easing across the room, his hands outstretched.
"Mon ami. Kyoya. Please. I need-"
The door burst open once again. The other four stood in the doorway, their expressions uncharacteristically serious.
Kyoya bristled, very subtly, but Haruhi nodded her satisfaction. This was right. They were a part of this.
Secrets never stayed between family, after all.
"Haruhi," Hikaru said, his eyes jumping uncertainly from Tamaki's ravaged face to Kyoya's stick straight spine to Haruhi's serious set mouth. "What's going on?"
"Tamaki transferred schools. He attends the same University as me, now."
Mori cocked an eyebrow. Hikaru's forehead wrinkled in confusion.
But Hunni was nodding. And the sudden understanding, complete understanding in Kaoru's eyes was brilliant and blindingly bright.
"He filed the paperwork right after Christmas break. I told him not to come, that I didn't need him there. But he came anyway."
"This has no relevance," Kyoya said, and he spoke so stiffly that all inflection had been erased from his voice.
"It has every relevance," Haruhi corrected, in a voice as flat as his. "Kyoya-sempai, you only started avoiding us after Tamaki left."
Tamaki made a small, startled sound and stopped his forward motion.
"Mon ami, is that-"
"The correlation you're struggling to draw is inaccurate," Kyoya interrupted, and he sounded like ice, cold and hard. "I have goals. I have aspirations. I have work to do. I am busy. Do you really think that I have the time or the energy to pine away just because one blonde moron isn't there to distract me anymore?"
His words were so scathing, Tamaki actually stumbled back a step, his eyes wide and shocked and wounded. But Haruhi just stared him down, angry and unafraid.
"Yes. Yes, I do."
Silence. Kyoya seemed calm, on the surface. But under the veneer of dignified serenity he projected, there were signs to indicate his emotions. His hands were curled into loose fists, and behind his glasses, his eyes were thunderstorms of feeling.
"You knew this was going to happen. That first day, when I broke the vase, you knew. I heard you, when I came out of the dressing room. 'I may be wrong, but this may be the beginnings of love'. You're so damn smart, Kyoya-sempai, you knew that Tamaki and I were going to end up like this way before anyone else did. So I don't understand. If you knew, if you saw, then why are you acting like this?"
Kaoru moved forward, releasing the door frame and walking into the line of fire.
"I know," he said, and Hikaru goggled at his back. "I understand, Kyoya-sempai. It's that feeling, right? Those moments that you have when you step outside yourself and look at everyone around you. And you love them so much, it hurts, and you're so sad, so sad, because you know that it can't stay like it is in that one perfect moment. But you want it to, so you pretend that things won't ever change. That you won't change. That the present won't become memories someday, that you can never get back the way it was."
"Like closing your eyes," Mori rumbled, and made everyone jump. "And spinning around. And hoping that things won't look different when you open them."
Silence. And then Hikaru raised a tentative hand.
"I...don't think I get it," he said, and he was probably the only one who really didn't at this point. "Is he mad at the Boss? Kyoya-sempai...he...is he in love with Haruhi? "
The 'too' went unspoken, but it was heard by everyone in the room anyway.
"Not me," Haruhi said quietly, and Kyoya's widened ever so slightly. In anger, or shock, or fear, she wasn't sure. "Not me."
Hikaru's mouth dropped open; he'd always been quick. From the far side of the room, Tamaki choked on a sharp, shocked gasp as comprehension speared his brain like a lightning strike.
"Mon ami," he whispered, and he was moving forward again, eyes lit with confusion, and some sort of wonder. "You...I..."
"Don't," Kyoya said.
But Tamaki ignored his warning, and finally put his hands on his friend's shoulders.
"Kyoya."
Kyoya's teeth gritted and his loose fists clenched tight. Haruhi moved fast; Kyoya had tried to punch his friend before, Tamaki had told her about it with a laugh in his throat.
She reached out and snagged Kyoya's wrists once again, pinning them in place.
"Not like that, Tamaki. Not the way you think." Although, I'm not exactly sure about that. "You were Kyoya-sempai's first friend. The only one who cared enough to chase him, and make him accept you. You were his first." Haruhi stared up into gray eyes turbulent with too many emotions to name. "And now I'm in the way. You left him for me, just like he was always afraid you would."
"Mon ami," Tamaki whispered, and pressed his forehead on Kyoya's shoulder.
"Get off."
"Kyoya. Don't go. Please don't go."
"You don't need me," Kyoya hissed, his voice a violent struggle between control and calamity. "You don't."
Tamaki shook his head against Kyoya's shirt.
"Always," he insisted. "I always need you."
They were shaking, Haruhi realized. All three of them. Quick and violent shivers.
"Kyoya-sempai," she whispered. "Please."
And then the others stepped forward. Surrounded the three of them like a wall of support and strength.
"Kyo-chan," Hunni said, and his smile was steel, bright but completely unbendable. "We're not going to let you leave."
Kyoya stared at him. At Hikaru and Kaoru, ranged together and looking as stubborn and ferocious as a single unstoppable entity. At Mori, who stood between him and the door with his arms folded and a soft kind of sympathy in his eyes that said I understand, and I hurt for you, I really do, but we're not going to let you go, won't let you hurt yourself by leaving us.
And Kyoya's eyes finally settled on a single emotion.
Fear.
Because they knew how to save him. By breaking him. And they weren't going to let him leave until he did.
...
A/N: So. Kyoya. I'm not saying that he's in LOVE with Tamaki. And I'm not saying he isn't, either. There's too many layers to his motives to give them definitive meaning. All that's really clear, and the root of all this, is that Tamaki belongs to Kyoya. But the exact mannre of their bond is by turns both too vague and too full of depth to be defined. So. Yep. Don't hate me!
Now that the problem is out in the air, can the Host Club break Kyoya before its too late? Stay tuned to find out. Happy Reading!