Author's Note: I'm back! And I am more sorry than you can imagine for my short hiatus. I only have two weeks (barely) before I'm off to college, and I'm in a mad rush to get everything done. I am going to do my damnedest to finish The Broken Hearts Club before I leave, but this story will continue into college no doubt. Just a head up, the week following the 22nd of August (so till like the 28th/29th) I will not be updating (pre-orientation camping trip). I'll try to give you guys a few good chapters of this story before I head out, though.

In other news, my living arrangements might be changing soon, but my copyright ownership has not. Meaning I do not own the copyright for OHSHC. How will I make friends in college?

Anyway, thank you for reviewing and putting up with my break. Here's the next chapter! Please read, review, and enjoy!

Haruhi and an Ootori

Chapter 13

Fast forward to Friday night . . .

Some corner of Haruhi's mind registered that there was someone rapping on something. There was someone knocking at her door, it told her. After a minute or two, that part of Haruhi's mind pulled her out of her rather surreal dream of Akito marrying a Russian doll.

Haruhi peeled herself off of her desk with a sleepy yawn. It took her a moment to remember the case papers that were scattered all over her desk and the various files strewn across the floor in a manner of organized chaos.

The knocking was still happening.

"Coming!" Haruhi called out as she carefully maneuvered her way to her apartment door. She checked the peephole and froze for a moment before realizing that no, it was not him. Just someone who bore a remarkable resemblance to him. Even so, she still was not particularly willing to speak with the person standing outside her door. However, eight years of friendship dictated that she at least open the door and hear him out, so that was what she did.

"What?" Haruhi spat at him, giving him her best evil eye.

"I think we should talk," he responded, running a hand through his coal black hair.

"No," Haruhi insisted. "We should have talked any time before Monday. But that didn't happen, so I'm not really in the mood to listen to anything you have to say. Or your brother for that matter." Haruhi added the last bit as more of a warning to be passed on.

He sighed. "Will you please let me in so I can talk with you? I promise I'll let you vent all you want."

Haruhi kept her gaze locked on his, searching skeptically for something she did not find. "Fine, Kyoya, come on in."

"Thank you," Kyoya replied before entering her apartment.

Kyoya watched as Haruhi stewed. She had been sitting next to him on the couch for a good ten minutes, not saying a single word. And Kyoya just watched her, waiting for her reaction. He was struck once again by how plain she might look to the untrained eye. Her hair was a complete disaster and she was wearing sweatpants that had been rolled over at the hem more than twice, not to mention a shirt with sleeves that constantly fell past her hands. Yet she was stunning in her own way. The messy hair suited her, and the clothes emphasized her petite frame. It helped that Kyoya was fairly certain the shirt she was wearing was his.

Haruhi finally opened her mouth to speak. "Recap," she stated, and Kyoya waited. "Your father wants us to get married, so he sabotaged any chance I had with Akito by forcing him into an arranged marriage with the daughter of a competing company?"

"Yes," Kyoya affirmed.

"And Akito went along with it because he and this girl didn't hate each other at first sight?" Haruhi asked, disbelief coloring her voice.

"Yes," Kyoya repeated, careful not to let his eyes give away the lie. If anyone could tell when he was lying, it was Haruhi. "You know arranged marriages are not unusual amongst the upper echelon. Akito was lucky his match was with someone who related to him. It could have been much worse."

He watched as Haruhi blinked back the angry tears forming in her eyes, and he almost blurted out the whole ugly truth. "He could have told me, he could have just . . . he could have just left me alone," Haruhi whispered in a voice that very nearly broke Kyoya's heart. The pain in her voice was so apparent that Kyoya could not help the knot that formed in his stomach, though whether out of guilt or jealousy he did not know.

"Akito lives his life on a day to day basis with very little consideration for the consequences. I do not think he told you because he did not want to have to deal with the mess," Kyoya hypothesized out loud. In his head and in his heart, Kyoya knew Akito had not been able to talk to Haruhi at all since the event because Kyoya had blocked all calls from the Ootori residence to the Fujioka residence, and the merger had kept everyone in the Ootori Group busy.

Haruhi sat up a little more in her seat. "Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't you tell me?" She accused, narrowing her eyes at him.

Kyoya kept his eyes level with hers. Part of telling a believable lie was eye contact. "He did not tell you because it would have meant taking responsibility for his actions." I'm already going to hell for this, might as well do it thoroughly, Kyoya thought. "And I did not tell you because I have been working nonstop since Sunday night, trying to piece together the assets of the Park and Ootori zaibatsus for a successful merger. I was only just allowed out of the office tonight. I thought it best to check in on you."

Haruhi wiped at her eyes, which were damp, but not flooding. "I've been as well as can be expected given that I found out from a news broadcast. And given that the tabloids have me pinned as 'another broken heart, courtesy of Akito Ootori,'" Haruhi quoted with just a touch of cynicism. "The other hosts have stopped by to check on me since. Mostly I'm just glad I've got a new case, even if the trial isn't for another two months."

"You know," Kyoya started. "It's nice to be here. Much more low-key than home or the office. It's nice to relax every once in a while away from everything Ootori."

Haruhi raised her eyebrows at him. "The great Shadow King takes breaks?" she questioned, the faintest trace of laughter sparkling behind her wet eyes.

"Not often, but when I am with someone I trust, it can be nice to be at ease," Kyoya told her. He slipped off his jacket and tie, plucked off his shoes, and leaned back into the couch. "I have the entire weekend off now, after the week from hell."

"Care to spend it with me?" Haruhi said in a way that indicated she wasn't aware of the meaning the words might hold for some men, namely Kyoya Ootori.

She didn't see the smirk that graced his elegant features. "That sounds like an excellent way to relax," he responded.

In the end, the two friends wound up slumped together on the couch watching what Kyoya called an acclaimed film, but what Haruhi called the most boring thing she'd ever seen.

Despite Haruhi's commentary throughout the movie, Kyoya found himself quite content. He was lying against Haruhi, his head pillowed against her stomach, and she did not seem to mind in the slightest. In fact, she kept alternating between running her delicate fingers through his hair and resting them against his chest in a backwards hug.

Kyoya tried in vain to ignore the thrum of electricity that shot through him every time Haruhi slipped her fingers through his dark hair, but it felt so unbelievably good that he wasn't entirely sure what was keeping him from flipping over and kissing her senseless then and there. Except that it was far too relaxing, and Kyoya felt his eyes slipping shut as Haruhi switched to running her fingers lightly across the top part of his chest.

He sighed contentedly and turned a little, burrowing deeper into the softness of Haruhi. He wasn't sure why, but he thought he heard her breath catch as he did so.

"Kyoya?" Haruhi whispered.

"Yes?" Kyoya asked, not opening his eyes.

"Why does your father want me to marry you so badly? Why did he object so much to me being with Akito?"

Kyoya let out his breath. "I do not think you'll like the answer."

"When do I ever?" Haruhi replied in her 'rich bastards' voice.

He chuckled lightly. "Fair point," he conceded. "Fine. Back when we were in high school, Suoh-san and my father made a bet that you would marry either Tamaki or me. Well, you're obviously not marrying Tamaki since he has his sights set on Renge, but my father does not win until the two of us say 'I do' to each other."

There was silence.

"Haruhi?"

Her voice sounded strangled when she did speak. "Your father wants us to get married because of a bet?"

Kyoya tried not to roll his eyes. He wondered when Haruhi would stop being surprised by the fact that everything was a competition with the Ootori family. "Yes," he said. "But I also think he's so set on it because he thinks we would be good for each other."

What sleep-drunk part of his brain had made him say that?

"We would," Haruhi murmured softly, her voice sad.

If there was ever a better opportunity . . . .

"Haruhi?"

"Hm?"

"I love you very much," he admitted in as even a tone as he could manage.

"I love you, too," Haruhi responded like it was a reflex.

Kyoya felt his eyes close shut again, but this time it was not from sleep. He was trying to block out the pain. She did not understand him. She did not realize all what he was trying to say. She did not know, so maybe she didn't feel the same way . . . ?

"That's not what I mean, Haruhi," Kyoya bit out a little more harshly than he intended. He swung his legs down onto the floor so that he was sitting upright. Haruhi pushed herself up into a sitting position at the end of the couch.

"Then what do you mean?" Haruhi said, and for some reason Kyoya though he heard fear in her voice.

Kyoya turned to face her. It didn't take him long to decide the best means of convincing her that he was in love with her.

He kissed her.

He leaned forward and trapped her between the armrest and his arms, and he kissed her. Kyoya pressed her back into the sofa, his lips moving against hers with a heat he only felt when he was with her.

But this, this was something else. It was so much better than the last time they kissed because he had told her he loved her. She wasn't with Akito, and she knew he loved her. So Kyoya kept kissing her, moving his hands to wrap them around her slender waist, pulling their bodies closer together. He flicked his tongue across her bottom lip and was rewarded by Haruhi making the most intoxicating sound.

She was beneath him, her hands running along his torso and through his hair, her body arching up to meet his. And she was gasping as their lips crashed together, her hands pressing into his shoulder blades, trying to pull him closer still.

Kyoya ran his hand along the bottom of her shirt, savoring her warmth through the fabric until—

Haruhi gasped and pulled away, rolling out from underneath him. She hit the floor on all fours, her eyes wide.

"No," she insisted, although what she was insisting upon was lost on Kyoya. "W-we can't—this, I mean—I can't do this!"

"Haruhi, what—" Kyoya started before she cut him off at the pass.

"No, Kyoya! You just told me your father wants us to get married so he can win a goddamn bet! H-how am I supposed to trust you? How am I supposed to be sure that this is real? Th-that you're not just playing with the way I feel about you so that you can do what your father said and become the favorite son? That's not fair to me, Kyoya!" she screamed at him.

But Kyoya was stuck on the part where Haruhi said she had feelings for him. So he stood there as Haruhi shouted at him, trying for once in his life to catch up with the events around him rather than being two steps ahead.

Then it clicked. "Haruhi, I want to be with you—"

"To please your father!" Haruhi shouted at him.

Kyoya decided that if Haruhi was going to be shouting at him, perhaps he ought to be shouting back. "Why do you think that's the only reason I want to be with you?" he demanded.

Her reply left him frozen. "Because the only other reason is because this is some stupid competition between you and your brother!"

Kyoya went still, his shoulders tense and his glasses flashing in the light.

"Oh," Haruhi said in a small voice. "Oh. This—you—I should have seen it," she whispered. "When you kissed me before . . . and when I asked you how you felt about it . . . I'm a bet and a competition?" She asked in horror.

Kyoya could tell she wanted him to deny it—that she was waiting for him to say something that would not leave her hating him—but he couldn't. Kyoya embellished the truth all the time; it was necessary in his line of work. But he did not know how to explain to Haruhi that his newly engaged brother had dated her because of an ever ongoing competition between the Ootori brothers. He did not know how to tell her that his father liked winning just as much as his sons did, no matter what or who was at stake.

Kyoya didn't know how to do any of that, and he didn't have to.

"Get out," Haruhi whispered in a deadly soft voice.

"Haruhi—" Kyoya started, trying to get her to stop, to listen to what he had to say, even if he had no idea how to say it.

"I said get out!" she yelled. "You were supposed to be my friend!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. The way she looked . . . it broke Kyoya's heart in two; shredded it, actually, like a cheese grater. "Friends do not treat each other like pretty little trophies to display in front of their family!" she screamed, slamming the door in his face as she bodily shoved him out of her apartment.

Kyoya stood outside, staring at the door as if willing it to open again.

What the hell am I going to do now?

How am I going to convince her that I'm in love with her now?

Haruhi was shaking inside her apartment. She felt like someone had just run an ice-cold knife straight through her heart. Her insides were in an upheaval; she felt like she was going to be sick. For the first time in a very long time, she allowed herself to break down.

She didn't know how long she sat on the floor sobbing, cradling her chest in her arms like she was physically trying to hold herself together. But when she stood up and flung open her door, hoping despite everything that he had stayed, she was disappointed once more that day to find the catwalk empty.

Shutting her eyes against the pain, Haruhi slipped back into her apartment and curled up on her bed, praying that none of the hosts called. She couldn't handle their questions.

She never noticed the little black book sitting on her coffee table with the initials K.O.

Author's Note: Again, sorry for the gap in updates. I should be able to get another Broken Hearts chapter up by the end of Sunday, though.

So, what'd you think of the chapter? Dramatic, right? And the importance of that little black book can be found in chapter 3. Let me know what you think! Favorite, follow, review, message, whatever! Below is the chapter 3 excerpt:

Kyoya knew why it bothered him that Akito and Haruhi were dating. There were several things, in fact, about the arrangement that bothered him. Without thinking, Kyoya wrote them down in his black book.

1. I have spent the past six years trying to get Haruhi to realize that when I ask her to different social events and out for dinner that it is a date, not two friends hanging out.

2. Haruhi has known me nine years, and she still hasn't realized I (am in love with) care for her.

3. Haruhi knew Akito for nine minutes before she deemed him kissable.

4. Akito kissed Haruhi.

5. Haruhi kissed Akito.

6. I have not kissed Haruhi.