Haruhi stepped into the massive kitchen and a wave of hot, steamy aromas invaded her senses.
"Ohtori-san!" the head chef said cheerfully, coming over to her and bowing respectfully. "It is a pleasure to serve you at last!"
"Konnichiwa," Haruhi greeted, bowing in reply. "Kyouya says you are some of the best chefs in the country."
"The master is all politeness," the head chef, replied, looking doubtful that any such complimentary words had ever come out of someone like Ohtori Kyouya.
Haruhi laughed. "Well, I won't know the difference. Everything smells delicious!"
"Thank you, Ohtori-san!" he beamed. "Though you should know that you need not come all the way down to the kitchens when you are hungry. Simply use the intercoms to page us!"
Haruhi smiled. "I wanted to see the kitchens," she confessed. "I've never been in one so big. Do you think I'd be allowed to cook down here sometimes?"
The head chef blinked. "You cook...?"
She nodded. "My father can barely make tea, let alone dinner."
She could see the chef thinking hard, his brow furrowed. "Ohtori-san, forgive me for asking," he said hesitantly, "but from what family are you?"
"Eh?" she said in surprise. "Don't you watch the news? I'm a lawyer. I'm not rich."
The chef's surprise only grew. "Then how did..." he began, and then paused, realizing he was probably about to say something offensive.
Haruhi opened her mouth to say something, but just then a plate of freshly prepared ootoro was passed right next to her. Her stomach rumbled.
"Ano..." she said uncertainly, eying the food.
"Ah, forgive me, Ohtori-san! Were you hungry?"
"Maybe... just a little..." she said quietly, her eyes following the food like a wolf watching a rabbit.
"Well, we can make you anything you like!" the chef said cheerfully.
"Ootoro?" she said a little too quickly.
The chef's mouth fell open. "Ah... you see, Ohtori-san... we were given specific orders never to give you ootoro..."
"What?!" Haruhi yelped, disappointment crashing down on her. "By who?"
"Ohtori-sama, of course."
Haruhi gaped. She knew that Kyouya was a bastard, but this...! The one thing she had been looking forward to about being rich!
"Not to worry, Haruhi," his dark voice said.
She turned and saw him entering the kitchens, looking ridiculously triumphant. "Kyouya..." she whined, like a child deprived of it's favorite sweet.
"Now Haruhi," Kyouya said, smirking. "You'll get all the ootoro you want as long as you're a good girl. I need some leverage in this marriage."
"And what leverage do I have?" she huffed.
"More than enough," he replied vaguely. When she raised an eyebrow at him, he continued, "Let's just say you've stolen my heart-" he scooped up the plate of ootoro from the hands of a passing chef "-and now I have yours."
He turned and walked towards the exit, Haruhi hurrying just behind him, eyes still glued to the alluring plate in his hands.