The storm began to die down, but was already long forgotten. After a couple of hours, the thunder and lightning were completely out of Haruhi's mind. She was actually having a good time.
"I'm not used to just . . . hanging out like this," she said, wiping her eyes. They had been laughing. Laughing together. And Tamaki had not once tried one of his lines on her or tried to win her over like she'd expected.
Tamaki wiped his eyes with his shirt collar and sighed, "I know! Who knew you could actually have fun for a change?" Haruhi punched him in the arm playfully. "Shut up," she laughed. This caught them both by surprise. Haruhi stared at her arm as if it had moved on its own, and then she stiffened. "I mean . . . Sempai," she added.
Tamaki sighed again, this time in distaste. "Why are you always so formal with me?" His tone was serious, and his eyes had a melancholy gleam. Haruhi didn't know how to answer this question; she'd never really thought about it before.
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Well, you are my sempai."
"Yes, but you don't have to think of me as just a sempai . . ." Tamaki caught himself. "Just." That word could have so many different connotations. Did he want to be more than a sempai? Did he want to be more than just a friend?
Well, of course, he thought. I'm her Daddy.
A sudden uneasy feeling swept over him. Why does that never sound right?
"What do you mean?" Haruhi's question had brought him back into reality.
"I mean," the king began, "don't you think we're . . . well . . ." He paused, making Haruhi nervous. She didn't know if she was ready for him to spill his guts just yet.
Finally Tamaki said, "Friends?"
Friends? Is that all he wanted them to be? Surely Tamaki must have some other intention. Haruhi had always thought of them as being friends, but she had always thought that he had different feelings.
"Well, we . . . are friends. Aren't we?" She asked, confused.
Tamaki's heart skipped a beat, but he tried to hide it. "Oh, yeah. Yes. Of course." He averted his eyes from her, and she did the same.
"Okay. Well . . ." Their eyes met for an awkward second, but they quickly escaped from the other's glance. A simultaneous laugh for lack of words broke the silence. It felt so weird for them to be laughing together. It was comfortable somehow, but weird. Realizing that the silence was too silent, they looked toward the window and listened for sounds of rain pelting the glass. The sheet Tamaki had hung up to block the lightening was now letting in a blue-grey, morning-like glow. Tamaki cautiously moved the sheet to see outside, and then turned around and smiled. "Good news!" he said enthusiastically. "The rain has stopped!" Though he was smiling, a sad feeling came over him again. He didn't want to leave, but he didn't know why. He had protected her from the storm, like a good Daddy should. Why did he still feel the need to be near her?