Haruhi awoke with the smell of cologne lingering in her nostrils. As her eyes slowly fluttered open, she found that all she could see was white. White. A white shirt?
Haruhi's heart skipped a beat, and she looked up. Sure enough, she spotted those recognizable glasses, even in the dimness of her bedroom. Her sempai was in her bed, and she was tangled in his arms and legs.
Immediately, the girl's mind raced through last night's events. Right. The thunderstorm. Kyouya had come over and . . .
Haruhi shyly snuck a peak at his face again. Had he really spent the whole night with her, out of concern for her? Haruhi didn't even once remember him complaining like he usually did, even though she was sure that the quality of her bed and sheets were nowhere near what he was used to. Her mattress was used after all, and Haruhi had had years to get used to its stiff, lumpy state.
But Haruhi didn't marvel on this idea for long. At a glance toward her clock, which flashed a cheerful 9:10 in the morning, her heart skipped a beat again. Her father! Was he home yet? Had he noticed?
"Kyouya," Haruhi whispered, nudging him a little. She feared waking him so early, but she really needed to check on the situation. "Kyouya, let me get up."
He didn't respond. Haruhi let out a shaky sigh. "It figures," she mumbled to herself. Slowly, carefully, she began to disentangle herself from him, pausing every few seconds to see if Kyouya was still asleep. It was a process that took several minutes, and Haruhi's heart was hammering the entire time. But once finally free, she quickly slipped out of the room. Dread filled the pit of her stomach when she stood in front of her father's bedroom, pressing an ear against the wood. She held her breath—
—and then let it out. The girl couldn't hear her father's unbelievably loud snoring. She wandered the rest of the apartment just to make sure, but it was dark and quiet. Ranka had said that he would be back late last night, but perhaps he had changed his mind at the last minute and had decided to go drinking with workmates. Usually, Haruhi didn't like when he drank all night, but for the first time, she was slightly relieved. Now she wouldn't have to answer strange questions.
Haruhi went to the bathroom to relieve herself, and after a moment of consideration, she decided to brush her teeth as well. It always made her feel better when her mouth was clean. Once all human necessities were taken care of, she tiptoed back to her room.
Kyouya was still asleep, his glasses askew. Haruhi suppressed a giggle at his sprawled out form. For being so impeccably neat and well-postured in the day, he was a mess in his sleep. Smiling fondly, Haruhi sat on the edge of the bed and removed his glasses so they would not get damaged. A little voice told her that she needed to wake him up and get him out of the house before her father came home, but Haruhi was a little reluctant. All she wanted to do was to let him rest. Those dark circles under his eyes told her that he needed it bad.
She watched him for a few minutes more, but eventually Haruhi grew anxious. She bent down so she could whisper in his ear, "Kyouya . . . Kyouya, I'm sorry, but I really need you to wake up." When he still wouldn't respond, Haruhi spoke a little louder. "Kyouya! Wake up alrea—!"
Arms shot out and tightened around Haruhi, choking the words in her throat. She squeaked in surprise, despite herself, and Kyouya, still clutching her, rolled over to the other side. He lifted his head and squinted at the clock on the nightstand.
Haruhi felt his groan resonating deep within his chest. "Haruhi . . ."
"Y-yeah?"
"Why the hell did you choose to wake up at such a forsaken hour of the day?"
His tone was grumpy, but it wasn't nearly as angry as Haruhi had feared it would be. She gained a little bit of confidence from this fact. "Kyouya, you need to wake up," she repeated resolutely.
Almost like a selfish little child, Kyouya snuggled closer to Haruhi and said, "I don't want to."
"Kyouya," Haruhi sighed, slightly exasperated.
He only held her tighter, preventing escape.
"Kyouya, my dad could come home at anytime now. And . . . well I'd rather not have a bunch of really weird questions to have to answer."
Amusedly, he studied her blush. Ah, so she did realize the implications of asking a boy to spend the night with her, Kyouya thought to himself. And here I thought she was just too oblivious and naïve.
"Hmm? So he's not home still?" Kyouya asked.
"Well . . . no, but—"
Haruhi caught a flicker of Kyouya's crooked grin. "Then there's no rush, is there?" he replied in a seductively smooth voice.
Haruhi swallowed.
He rolled them over again, and now Haruhi was pinned underneath him. He ducked his head and brushed his lips against her neck, not quite kissing her, but enjoying Haruhi's small shiver. "Not only did you make me stay with you during the storm last night, but you also had the audacity to wake me up ridiculously early. My, my, Haruhi. I'd say you've accumulated quite of bit of personal debt."
"You're the one who chose to stay," Haruhi said, trying to distract herself from his hands sliding up her sides.
"Only because a certain person begged me to with tears in her beautiful little eyes." But Kyouya was only teasing her. He most likely would have stayed no matter what she said. Whether or not he would have done so PG or not was a better question.
"Kyouya," Haruhi gasped out in warning when she felt him nip her ear. She tried to squirm and push his chest away.
"You know the rules of our personal debt. You can't—"
"—afford the steep interest. Yeah, yeah," Haruhi interrupted quickly, but Kyouya heard the slight ring of nervousness in her voice.
"Interest gets added on by the second, as a matter of fact," Kyouya said, smirking. "It's already climbing so high."
"How about I pay you in installments?" Haruhi suggested lightly.
Kyouya chuckled. "I don't think so." And he leaned in for a kiss.
But Haruhi stopped him, placing a hand on both sides of his face. "You," she said, narrowing her eyes playfully but firmly, "have morning breath."
Kyouya scowled grumpily, and this time when Haruhi pushed, he got off of her. Ignoring his blatant ill-temper, Haruhi smiled and stood up, brushing herself off. "How about for my first installment, I make you some coffee? But then you really have to go."
"Do whatever," Kyouya grumbled, lying back down and hugging one of Haruhi's pillows to him. It smelled like her, even if it didn't protest as much as she did. He buried his face in it while Haruhi rolled her eyes, walking off.
She bustled about the kitchen, preparing the coffee. While she was waiting for the water to heat up, she figured she might as well make him some breakfast too. But what would he like? she wondered. Does he even eat breakfast?
Haruhi puzzled over it a little before deciding to go the easy route and make eggs, a default breakfast that everyone enjoys. Hmm, but how does he like his eggs? Turns out, Haruhi didn't need to bother worrying about that. As soon as the fridge opened, she noticed the unfortunate absence of eggs. Haruhi hissed out in annoyance. That's right. I needed to go to the grocery store today. They were out of a lot of other breakfast items as well. Haruhi bit her lip before shrugging. Oh well. Kyouya's high upbringing will just have to settle for frozen waffles. And if he won't eat it, then I'll just save it for dad.
She popped waffles into the toaster and started rummaging around for syrup. But then she glanced out the window. Her mouth fell open.
Kyouya was just beginning to drift back asleep when the bedroom door slammed open. A wild-eyed Haruhi was standing in the doorway with two mugs of coffee. She shoved one mug into his unsuspecting hands and practically yanked him to his feet.
"Here! Coffee! Now go!" Haruhi half-shouted, panicking.
"Haruhi, what—?" But then Kyouya heard the front door opened.
Haruhi jumped in alarm and started shoving Kyouya toward her closet. "N-nevermind! Just hide and don't come out!" she whispered.
And so, Kyouya was dumped unceremoniously in the crammed closet. He was still holding onto Haruhi's pillow. Irritation was starting to creep up on him, but he swallowed it down with a swig of coffee. Besides, he couldn't really stay mad at her . . . not when it was just so amusing to watch her wriggle and squirm in anxiety.
"HA-RU-HI!" Ranka cried as he danced into her room. Through the crack in the closet, Kyouya could see Ranka attempt to glomp his precious daughter, but Haruhi side-stepped him and displayed her coffee mug.
"Oh, did you only just wake up? That's pretty unusual for you," Ranka remarked.
Like a halfway indifferent spectator, Kyouya sipped his coffee and watched Haruhi stammer and struggle to make up something.
"Ahh, um . . . w-well I had a pretty eventful night."
"Hmmm?" Something in her tone made Ranka scrutinize her carefully. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Th-th-the thunderstorm! Yeah, there was a thunderstorm last night." Haruhi lowered her eyes a little shyly and muttered, "I couldn't sleep."
Smooth trick, Kyouya thought to himself.
At her adorably troubled expression, Ranka seemed to melt. He glomped her for real this time, almost spilling Haruhi's coffee. "OH, my Haruhi! So it did rain here? It did? Daddy is so sorry he wasn't there for you! He didn't realize. Oh, you poor child!"
"It's alright. I'm fine now," Haruhi sighed, freeing herself.
"Were those waffles I smelled in the kitchen? Yay, waffles! Daddy's so hungry you know—" Ranka turned to walk out, but then he stopped. Kyouya knew what he was looking at right away, and he thought to himself, Whoops.
"Haruhi?" Ranka said, picking up a still damp jacket from her desk. "Whose is this?"
Kyouya saw Haruhi flinch all over. "O-oh, th-that." But she recovered surprisingly quick. "Well, Kyouya and I had gone on a dinner date, and when we were coming back, it started raining. He gave me his jacket, and I guess I forgot to give it back."
". . . did he give you his shoes too?"
"Uhhhh?"
Kyouya took another gulp of coffee. He knew he should probably care a lot more than he did, but he couldn't help but shake his head and grin crookedly. Well, well, Haruhi. How are you getting past that one?
Haruhi was starting to scowl in frustration. Resisting the urge to throw one of the shoes at Kyouya for being so stupid and leaving them there, she took a deep breath and said the first thing that came to her mind. "You see, it was really muddy and everything when it was rainy. His expensive shoes got all mucky, and I offered to get them cleaned."
". . . so you kept his shoes?" Ranka said, still confused and unbelieving.
"Yeah."
"He went home barefoot?"
Kyouya was beginning to chuckle at this point. He stifled the noise with Haruhi's pillow.
Haruhi finally lost her patience and exclaimed, "Look, he's a rich bastard! He carries around extra pairs of everything in his limo specifically for that reason, alright?"
"Aww, Haruhi. Now you sound mad. Is everything all right between you and Kyouya?"
Kyouya's laughter instantly died.
"I . . . I don't want to talk about it," Haruhi muttered, turning away a little.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Ranka persisted, coming a little closer and putting an arm around her shoulder.
"It's nothing, really Dad. Just . . . being with him can be a little . . . troublesome is all. I'm fine."
Ranka pouted down at her, not convinced. But Haruhi blankly stared right back at him, signaling that the conversation was over. Ranka sighed in defeat and finally walked out. "Alright, alright. Don't tell your dad anything. I'll be in the kitchen. Have you already helped yourself to some waffles?"
"No. I'll be there in a second," she called.
She waited a few minutes, making sure the coast was really clear. Then she tiptoed over to the closet and opened it again. They stared at each other for a bit, and Kyouya worried slightly about the serious air.
But then Haruhi scowled at him. "Troublesome, rich bastard," she stated.
A little relieved, Kyouya stepped out and finished the last of his coffee. He handed the mug back to her, who took it grudgingly. "How kind of you to offer to clean my shoes. Was that another one of your 'installments' you were talking about?"
Haruhi rolled her eyes.
"Well, regardless of your nice intentions, I'm afraid I can't accept the offer." He sat down at her desk and put on his shoes. "For one, I'm not sure I quite trust your commoner cleaning skills. Two, I do not actually carry extra pairs of shoes in my car, and I'd rather not go home barefoot."
"Whatever, can you please just go already?" Haruhi pleaded softly, her eyes darting back at her door warily.
Kyouya stood up and put on his jacket. "Getting rid of me so fast?" he remarked lightly with a smile.
"At least it gives me a reason to avoid paying back my debt for now," Haruhi responded just as lightly.
Kyouya chuckled, and he stood right in front of Haruhi. She blinked up at him, waiting. But she didn't have to wait long. Kyouya put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a quick kiss goodbye. And then, as if that didn't satisfy him, he pulled Haruhi in a tight hug. "Thank you," he whispered."
"For what?"
Kyouya didn't know.
When he finally let her go, Haruhi helped him slip out of her bedroom window. They said their goodbyes again, and then Kyouya walked down the steps to his car. The cold winter morning was invigorating. Or maybe it wasn't just that. Despite waking up so early, Kyouya felt a surge of energy sweeping through him. Perhaps the combination of caffeine and Haruhi's scent had given him a strange new high, one that left him almost giddy as he drove away. He mentally chastised himself and told himself that he was being an idiot. It's not like he had slept with her. He had just slept with her. But suddenly that one night had changed everything.
Kyouya felt a strange desire to stop the car and run the rest of the way home. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs for no reason at all. But instead, he only pressed the gas pedal a little harder. A burden was lifted, his mind was clear. And a smirk crossed his face as he realized the one thing he had to do.
But when he was waiting outside his father's conference room, waiting for the business meeting to end, the good feeling finally faded. Kyouya fidgeted restlessly in his seat. What was it he really wanted . . . ?
The doors opened. Kyouya's head snapped up, and he stood and bowed to the business leaders pouring out of the room. Once empty, Kyouya adjusted his glasses and stepped inside.
"Yes, Kyouya? You needed me?" His father said, barely looking up as he tidied the room and gathered the notes taken during the meeting.
The boy watched his father for the longest time, a glare hiding his eyes.
"I have made my decision."
Slowly, Kyouya closed the door behind him.
Yuichi stood next to the door, his back leaning against the wall. It was quiet, but if he concentrated hard enough, he could hear the two voices within the conference room. After listening for a few minutes, Yuichi grinned. "Typical," he laughed quietly. "Kyouya, you're just too predictable."
Yuichi peeled himself from the wall and walked away with his hands in his pockets.
Sleep was impossible that night.
Deciding to put his insomnia to good use, Kyouya reached for his laptop. Final touches were all that were needed, and then he could finally get some sleep in peace. It only took about an hour, and when he was done, he plugged his iPod to the computer and saved a copy for safe keeping.
He finally turned off the laptop sometime after midnight. For the first time, he almost couldn't get comfortable in his bed. He wished that he could have somehow stole one of Haruhi's pillows. But that was just a fantasy. It turned out it didn't matter anyway. Eventually, he did fall asleep.
And at 11:54 the next morning, he was rudely awakened by Tamaki's obnoxious ringtone.
Why is everyone so determined to wake me up at ungodly hours? he wondered crossly, blindly reaching for his phone. Two mornings in a row is unforgivable.
And Kyouya was just about to tell Tamaki so, but before he could even get a word in, Tamaki was yelling at him, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?"