A/N: This chapter's probably riddled with mistakes and sounds very rushed. I apologize. I was in a hurry to get this done and posted before November 1st, because NaNoWriMo is going to steal most of my time during November. Also, this chapter just did not want to be written for some reason. I drew such a blank. But don't worry, just bear with me. The ending will be worth it! ^^
At first, Haruhi had been relieved to sit still and breathe for a moment. But not moving was almost as bad as sprinting through the streets and dodging cars.
No, it was even worse.
Hands clasped tightly, Haruhi fidgeted for the billionth time. It felt like she had been on this train for forever, even though in reality it probably had only been a few minutes. She was beginning to feel antsy.
"What am I doing?" she mumbled once more. Without the distraction of running and oxygen deprivation, it was harder to avoid that one thought. Haruhi breathed out in frustration and smoothed out her skirt.
She was more rational than this, wasn't she? Why was she suddenly jumping trains and chasing after a person who obviously had deserted her? And what the heck did she plan to do when, or if, she did catch up to Kyouya? Demand that he stay in Japan? That was selfish.
"But how could he just not tell me anything?" Haruhi wondered. Blushing, she considered that maybe it was because Kyouya had grown bored of her and her morals. But she shook her head. That couldn't be it.
Haruhi leaned her head against the cold window and stared out at the landscape which was starting to grow gray. There seemed to be a chance of snow.
Kyouya slammed the limo door shut and hurried up the steps to the train station, taking it two stairs at a time. But before he could make it through the door, he was assaulted by a blond bullet.
"KYOUYAAA!" Tamaki cried as he lunched for his friend and embraced him tightly.
"Not now, Tamaki," Kyouya grunted, attempting to pry off the blond's arms.
"Kyouya, Kyouya! What took you so long?"
"Never mind that. Did you manage to grab Haruhi before she left?"
Tamaki's face fell. "When I got here, I couldn't find her anywhere. I even asked around, but one old lady told me she thought she had seen a girl like Haruhi running toward a train about to leave and making a big ruckus. The lady was very grumpy and said something like Haruhi had almost knocked her over along the way."
Kyouya adjusted his glasses, keeping his cool as best as possible. He had figured as much. His brother would know how to manipulate the strings in order to get the train moving the minute Haruhi arrived. He would also know how to leave not a single trace.
"But that bastard underestimates me," Kyouya growled, his dark, murderous aura making Tamaki flinch.
"U-uh? Kyouya . . . um?"
Kyouya stalked off, dragging a nervously babbling Tamaki with him. They went inside the station and all the way to the ticket booth. The person behind the desk was occupied, meticulously checking schedules with a puzzled frown, so he didn't notice Kyouya and Tamaki come up.
Kyouya slammed his hand down on the desk. "Who is the person in charge?" he demanded.
The worker sighed and said, "Look, sir, if you have a complaint, you don't have to be so—" But then the worker looked up and saw the demonic monster that was Kyouya and instantly zoomed as far away from the desk as possible.
"A-a-ah . . . take that door to the left there," the worker said, gesturing with a shaking finger.
"Kyouya . . . your eyes are sort of glowing," Tamaki whimpered as he was dragged along yet again, but Kyouya ignored him.
Kyouya slammed the door open. Three men looked over at him, one casually smoking a cigarette.
"Is there anyone in here who made a deal with a person known as Yuuchi Ootori?" Kyouya asked, his voice ringing loud and clear in the small room.
"Whaaaa? What are you talking about?" the smoker said rudely.
Kyouya stared at them for a while impassively, a glare on his glasses. Then he cracked into the smallest, most dangerous crooked smile.
Tamaki gulped.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Haruhi sighed wistfully. Her fidgeting had calmed a bit, but her knees still bounced energetically. She tore her eyes away from the increasingly white landscape and gazed around the cabin. "It wouldn't seem so long if I had someone to talk to." But the cabin was strangely empty. In all the years Haruhi had taken the train, no matter the day or time, there had always been a least a small handful of people on board. The vacancy unnerved her a little. But she scolded herself, thinking that if she got that lonesome, she could always wander around the cabins until she found someone—
There was a screech. The train lurched, and Haruhi collided face first with the bench in front of her. She clutched at her nose in pain, but then she realized that the train had come to a dead stop.
"Ah . . . ."
Was it the snow? Were the tracks too frozen or something? Still sitting on the floor, massaging the bridge of her nose, Haruhi waited for some sort of announcement. An intercom call from the conductor, explaining the nature of the delay. But there was nothing. I don't have time for this, Haruhi thought impatiently. If we're delayed for too long, I'll miss Kyouya's flight! And then . . .
When there had still been no announcement, Haruhi pulled herself up off the ground and started walking to the front end of the train. Cabin after cabin, utterly empty. Her footsteps echoing in the silence. Something surreal seized her throat and made it hard to see clearly, but she walked on until she spotted, with relief, the door to the conductor's area. I never did get a ticket, Haruhi recalled with sudden clarity. Could they kick me out? However, Haruhi could barely muster any concern for that trivial fact. Too spooked to care about the "Do No Enter" sign, the girl hurriedly barged in.
"Um, hello," Haruhi said timidly, flushing at how much of a rule breaker she had become within a few hours. "I know I shouldn't be here, but could you tell me what's wrong? I have somewhere important to be and . . . and . . ."
There was no one. Over by where the controls lied, pathetically masterless, Haruhi saw a screen. In a bold, romaji script, it read "Auto pilot disabled" along with a countdown. The countdown hit zero, and then all the power went out.
"Thank you for getting the family chopper ready, Tachibana-san," Kyouya said, though he never removed his eyes from the window.
"Of course, young master," Tachibana grunted.
Kyouya squinted at the landscape a little harder, just barely perceiving the thin strip of railroad running below them. Any minute now, and Haruhi's train would finally appear. The workers at the station had told them that that particular train was remote controlled and required no driver. Kyouya's brother had managed to coerce the station into reprogramming the train's usual route into a much longer, winding route up in the northern regions of Japan. Furthermore, it had been programmed with a power shut down, resulting in Haruhi being stranded heaven knows where. But the workers swore to not knowing exactly when or where the train would stop. Only Yuichi knew, and he was purposefully ignoring Kyouya's calls and death threats.
"Bastard," Kyouya muttered.
He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. "Kyouya," Tamaki whined. "Did you have to be so harsh to the workers back there? It's not—"
But Tamaki was cut off by a very creepy, dark chuckling that made the blond instantly zoom back in his seat behind Kyouya, cowering.
"That's what happens when you cross the devil," Kyouya stated, sounding entirely too amused. He adjusted his glasses and folded his arms. "Too bad none of them have a passport. Well, not that that would have saved them from the inevitable for long."
"My best friend is evil incarnate," Tamaki muttered.
Hearing that, Kyouya sobered slightly. Tamaki was right in a way. Kyouya was overdoing it. But he couldn't help it. He was trying to distract himself from the bitterness threatening to swallow him whole. Because beating himself up with guilt wasn't going to help find Haruhi. He would channel his anger into energy and keep pushing on.
"Excuse me, young master," Tachibana said a little hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"We're getting an emergency radio call from one of the train stations up ahead. They had been notified of our search, and they are warning us about a bad snow storm coming our way. They recommend that we stop right away and seek shelter there."
Kyouya was silent for a long time.
As if sensing the Ootori's mood, Tachibana reminded, "The helicopter could not last long in a snow storm, young master."
"I know that," Kyouya snapped. Then he sighed and rubbed his temples. "Well, what are you waiting for? We have no choice anyway."
Tachibana steered a little off course and headed towards the train station. When they got there, the workers practically fell over themselves to usher the trio inside and get them warm and comfortable. The other station probably warned them about us, Kyouya thought with a humorless smirk as he drank the hot chocolate one lady had given him. But the first gulp tasted bitter to him. He set it down on the table, thinking about how Haruhi would not have any nice hot chocolate. Kyouya wondered which was worse. If the train was still zooming along, far away from them, or if the train had powered out in the middle of the snow storm.
Restless, Kyouya pushed himself out of his chair and wandered over to the window, where the world outside was getting darker and grayer.
"I'm surprised at you Kyouya."
"Oh shut up," Kyouya muttered.
Tamaki walked up and stood by Kyouya's side, smiling gravely as he stared out the window as well. It was quiet between them for a while as Tamaki drank his own hot chocolate, but then then the blond opened his mouth.
"You know . . . I'm much more impulsive and open than you are," Tamaki said slowly. "But even so . . . I'm surprised that you can stay so calm and still."
"You think I'm calm?" Kyouya muttered under his breath.
"I think that, even if I were you, I wouldn't just stand here doing nothing. Snowstorm or no snowstorm. I would go out and chase after her."
Kyouya looked at his friend, his eyes widening.
Tamaki drained the last of his hot chocolate and wiped his mouth. "That's all I wanted to say." He turned on his heel and walked away from Kyouya. But after a few steps, he paused. "Ah! By the way, did you know that this train station has the niftiest little snowmobile that it uses occasionally for emergencies? It's extremely fast, apparently," Tamaki gushed in excitement, but when he looked back at Kyouya, his face was composed and suggestive. "Maybe even fast enough to beat a snowstorm before it hits . . ."
And, humming, Tamaki left to get another mugful of hot chocolate. Kyouya stared after him, his face blank. But then Kyouya's lips slipped into the slightest grin.
"That idiot's not subtle at all," he mumbled, shaking his head. Then Kyouya stopped and sighed. "Still, once again, that idiot has outsmarted me."
Haruhi ran to the next cabin, and for the fifth time, stopped to check her cellphone. Zero bars. To be one hundred percent center, Haruhi shuffled over to all the corners of the cabin. Then she moved to the next one and repeated the process. Efforts were futile. Haruhi had no form of communication. Even some of the train's emergency phone lines had been mysteriously disabled.
Exhausted, and not knowing why, Haruhi trudged back to her original seat. A chill started to creep up on her. The heat was out as well, it seemed. With a glance out at the flurry-filled outside, Haruhi reached for the second jacket she had had the fortune to pack in her bag before she and Tamaki left for the grocery store.
Grocery store? Huh, that already seemed like so long ago. Haruhi chuckled hopelessly to herself and leaned her head against the window, changing her mind when the icy cold stung at her skin. She lied down on the bench instead. "And just what have I accomplished since then?" she muttered to herself.
More than likely, she would be found. Trains didn't just go missing after all. Surely help would be on the way. It is on the way, but it would be too late in arriving. After all Haruhi had been through, Kyouya would still leave, and she wouldn't be able to even say anything about it. Not even a text message that read a pathetic goodbye.
She refused to look at her watch. She had to keep her head after all. When two layers of jackets wouldn't cut it, Haruhi got up to walk around, warm up, and look for some sort of blanket or rag left behind. Mercifully, she found one. She jumped around a while to get her blood flowing, and then curled up under the blanket. And so began the waiting.