Haruhi is very difficult to write… especially since I never know what pronoun to address her as. Few of the people in my story know she's a girl, but for all intents and purposes, she is. So unless someone is directly speaking to or of her, out loud or as internal dialogue and not character exposition, I will probably refer to Haruhi as "she".
Thanks again to the awesomeness of my beta, Leafygirl.
After conferencing with one of her literature professors, Haruhi had it confirmed that, yes, she would get extra credit if she wrote an essay about a play she'd gone to see. For a moment, she had sort of half-hoped that none of her teachers would agree to the assignment so she could find a loophole to her engagement with the Black Magic Club. But finding no excuse, she once again resigned herself to her fate.
But to be fair, she could think of worse ways to spend a Saturday night. Really, the whole thing wasn't so bad; she would get a free meal and a free show, and none of her companions knew she was a girl so there would most likely be no unnecessary flirting. She would have liked to stay home and catch up on some chores, perhaps read a book, but just maybe the evening wouldn't be a total loss.
With that semi-optimistic mindset, she awaited her ride, which had promised to be there at five. It had taken her slightly longer than it usually did to dress for the occasion, because, one: she didn't know how formal of an event this was, and two: she sort of needed to maintain that she was a boy. To show up now in a skirt would raise a lot of questions, ultimately leading to her exposure, and endangering her role in the Host Club, which for financial purposes, she needed to keep safe. So, after much consideration, she ended up with the nicest, most androgynous outfit she could find: A pair of clean black slacks and a white button-up shirt with a cheap but attractive coat. Underneath, she was wearing a beige colored sports bra, just to be safe. Finally dressed, Haruhi sat down to study for a little while before her ride arrived.
At about five after five, (according to her watch,) she heard a car pull up outside, and heard a neighbor gasp "Wow! What sort of car is that?"
As Haruhi slammed the book shut, she realized that she had one hope for this evening, just one.
Please don't let the car be a hearse. Please don't let the car be a hearse. Oh please…
Gathering her courage, she pulled open her front door. Nekozawa was approaching on the walkway, and behind him was a black Rolls Royce. She breathed a sigh of relief. While she considered the car to be a little extravagant, Haruhi had somewhat come to accept it as normal within the Host Club, but she didn't know what was considered normal outside said club necessarily, and was glad to at least see something she recognized to common within high society. Haruhi then glanced back down to her escort and paused.
To her surprise, Nekozawa looked very nice. He was still wearing the black wig, but the ominous cloak was gone. In its place was a finely tailored, black, slightly low collared silk shirt with cuffs that extended over his knuckles, and one could dare say flattering black pants. Haruhi was surrounded at all times in the Host Club by beautiful men and she'd grown so accustomed to them all that she barely noticed anymore, but with Nekozawa it was different somehow. It was a rare sight, and she couldn't help but be a little amazed by it.
"Good evening, Fujioka," He smiled a little eerily, "are you ready?"
"Ah, yeah," Haruhi replied quickly, pulling her attention back towards his face suddenly with mild embarrassment as she realized she'd been staring. Nekozawa smirked.
"You look well," he began as she proceeded down the steps. "I like the, um…" There was a pause, as he seemed to struggle for a word. "…coat."
"Thank you," Haruhi replied a little blandly, knowing that he'd forced that compliment, but nonetheless added "you, too."
Nekozawa smiled and nodded courteously to her as the driver opened the door for them. They eased into the car seat and sat down.
"We'll be meeting the others at the restaurant," Nekozawa explained as the car pulled out of Haruhi's neighborhood. "It's my favorite place. You'll like it."
While internally Haruhi was forced to question what sort of place it must be to be defined as Nekozawa's favorite, she didn't say anything, nodding instead. After all, she was being treated, and it would be rude to be suspicious of his preferences. Instead, it occurred to her that something was out of place. Finally, she realized what it was.
"Where's Bereznoff?" she asked, and immediately realized just how ridiculous that sounded coming out of her mouth.
"He's decided to stay at home tonight," Nekozawa replied. "Bereznoff has seen this play before."
Haruhi decided not to question how the puppet had made its own decision.
Very little was said during the drive after that. Haruhi had an old habit of spacing out during long car rides and so for her, the silence was quite comfortable. But Nekozawa, who rarely rode in a car with anyone, and was infrequently forced into a situation where he was alone with another person for any length of time, felt a little awkward. He didn't know if he was supposed to say anything, and nothing in particular came to mind for him to say, so he chose to remain quiet for fear of looking foolish by mindless chatter. It wasn't until they were nearly there that Haruhi, who'd been thinking about a book she had started reading last night, finally noticed that her escort was looking a little tense.
"Are you uncomfortable?" Haruhi asked with concern, surprising Nekozawa, who hadn't realized that he was being obvious.
"Oh, no!" he quickly replied, forcing an awkward smile. "I just… um…"
"You're not afraid I won't like the play, are you?" Haruhi, a problem solver by nature, continued questioning.
"Not at all," he replied honestly, as that thought had never even crossed his mind. A grin split his face as he lowered his head slightly so that his dark hair fell over his eyes and he added ghoulishly, "You'll like the play."
"Then why do you look tense?" Haruhi asked, oblivious to or perhaps purposefully ignoring his sinister countenance. Nekozawa shifted, looking abashed.
"Ah, it's nothing, Haruhi. Don't worry about it-"
"Oh, it's me, isn't it?" she interrupted suddenly, and Nekozawa was surprised not by her statement, but by how she had said it as if she had just solved a math problem. Haruhi nodded matter-of-factly. "I see. You don't know me very well, so it's strange to you to be left alone with me."
Nekozawa was genuinely impressed at how quickly and accurately she had figured him out. No wonder she was the 'natural type' at the Host Club.
"It's all right, Senpai. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to." She smiled reassuringly at him.
Nekozawa had never seen Haruhi smile at him before. He turned his head towards the window to hide his reddening cheeks.
He did want to talk. He just didn't know what to say.
They finally pulled up outside a building in a classy district Haruhi didn't recognize. The driver stopped the car and opened the door to let them both out, giving Haruhi a chance to look around quickly at the surrounding large, attractive buildings, restaurants and hotels. A few blocks away she spotted a tree-lined park with a gazebo, and it occurred to her then that she had been there once for a wedding when she was younger. There were more buildings around now then there had been that day.
As they entered, Haruhi was forced to quickly adjust her eyes to the sudden change in lighting. The restaurant was very dimly lit, with almost no windows or overhead lights, only a small candle in a glass bowl on each table and a desk lamp over the hostess station. It was now clear to Haruhi why this was Nekozawa's favorite restaurant: because it was sensitive to his condition.
The maitre d' seemed to recognize Nekozawa immediately, and with a broad smile and a long, unnecessary string of compliments, lead the two of them to where the rest of the Black Magic Club were already waiting on them in a particularly dark corner of the establishment. Spotting them, Jun grinned and waved them over, drawing the attention of the others, who made room for Nekozawa and Haruhi to sit. They, too, had all dressed for the occasion in semi-formal attire; all, of course, in black.
Nekozawa took the seat in the corner, into facing the restaurant, and Haruhi imagined that they probably saved him that seat on purpose; maybe it was his regular seat. The other available chair was beside Nekozawa, so Haruhi sat down without a second thought. At this, the Jun, Tokumi and Taro exchanged glances and hid smirks. Reiko looked indifferent.
"Glad you could make it, Fujioka." Tokumi welcomed her with a smile. "Have you ever been here before?"
"No," Haruhi plainly replied. "I didn't know it existed."
"Please order anything you like," Nekozawa invited, smiling pleasantly at Haruhi. "I'm sure you'll find that everything is very good."
She opened the menu and scanned it through once. A quick search revealed that this particular restaurant did not serve giant tuna. In fact, their seafood section as a whole left something to be desired. With only a very mild and secret disappointment, she chose something else.
The dinner went well. The food was, as promised, very good and the club was very friendly and talkative, and quick to accept Haruhi into their social circle -except Reiko, who for the most part remained silent, and Nekozawa, who would answer when addressed but otherwise remained unusually quiet the entire dinner. Often Nekozawa would glance over at Haruhi to make sure the Host Club member was having a good time, and then, once assured, would look away with a small smile, the dark strands of hair falling over his eyes and hiding his expression.
Haruhi was just grateful that she wasn't being treated any differently from the others. When they talked about something she couldn't really get into or didn't quite understand, she just listened quietly, and usually someone would eventually explain it to her, to the best of their ability. The only difference was that she was the only one who had never been to this restaurant before, and as such, everyone kept offering her a sample of his or her food so that she could know what she liked. To Haruhi's surprise, even the expressionless Reiko. Especially Jun, though, who without asking would frequently drop something onto Haruhi's plate, but in return, steal something off of it as well. This continued until Taro called him unrefined and Tokumi told him to "stop being a monkey". Finally, Jun began to ask Haruhi first, but even then never wait for an answer.
It was as they finished up the last few bites, during the time in which Jun and Tokumi had an inane argument about vampires versus mages, that Haruhi excused herself to use the restroom. A moment after, Reiko wordlessly followed.
Haruhi found the restroom with only slight disorientation. She was in a fairly good mood. She wasn't even thinking about anything she'd rather be doing, because it was hard to want to study when the food had been that delicious, although the dim lighting was starting to put a strain on her eyes.
I guess it wasn't a total waste, she supposed as she unthinkingly pushed open the bathroom door. Maybe the rest of the night will go just as well.
"Fujioka." A voice stopped Haruhi, and she turned around to find Reiko staring at her blankly. After a moment, Reiko asked, "Do you realize that you are about to enter the ladies room?"
Haruhi paused, staring at the dark eyed girl with obvious confusion. After a moment, she took a step back and looked at the door. It was clearly the women's bathroom. But she was a girl. So what-
Oh. That's right. The Black Magic Club thought Haruhi was a boy. She was quickly able to put the puzzle pieces together. She had nearly forgotten that she was in disguise, and made a careless mistake.
"Oh! So it is." Haruhi took a step back, embarrassed. "How silly of me. That was almost a problem."
"It wouldn't really have been a problem," Reiko commented as she entered the bathroom, brushing past Haruhi. "I'm sure you could pass as a girl." The door swung shut, and Haruhi looked at it for a moment in contemplation. Should she wait for Reiko to leave, or use the men's room? She weighed the pros and cons of each option.
Deciding finally that she would look awfully strange standing outside the ladies room, she turned around and with a heavy sigh, opened the door to the men's room. Upon entering, the bathroom attendant raised a curious eyebrow at her, and coughed.
"The young lady, of course, realizes she is in the men's room," he said.
When Haruhi and Reiko had left the table, the remaining members of the Black Magic Club turned their attention sharply to Nekozawa. Realizing that all eyes were on him, he looked around at them in puzzlement.
"So," Tokumi began, "What's the story?"
"What do you mean?" Nekozawa asked. Taro smirked wryly at his club president.
"All that glisters is not gold," he began. "Your eyes have been drifting all evening."
"You don't need to keep checking. He isn't going to leave," Jun grinned. Nekozawa regarded them all for a moment before responding, it having finally dawned on him what they were referring to. He then smiled harmlessly.
"You misunderstand! My interest in Fujioka is purely professional," he claimed. "To have him on our side would throw the Host Club into complete chaos, and I want to be in the center of it all," he added with a malevolent grin. But the others looked unconvinced.
"I could believe that, and believe me, I want to," Tokumi began, "but the looks you've been giving him have been sending…. mixed signals."
"I didn't even know you were into dudes. And then I realized that it doesn't surprise me," Jun shrugged. Taro gave him a threatening look, but said nothing. Nekozawa shook his head, smiling slightly.
"It doesn't look like there's any convincing you. What's that Milton quote, Taro? We see things not as they are but as we are."
Taro looked abashed.
"I don't know what that quote means but if you're implying that I'm into guys, you'll find that you're sadly mistaken," Jun announced without a hint of embarrassment. Taro glared venomously at him.
"Dolt! It means that we're seeing it as we want to see it, and not as it is."
"No, I'm pretty sure that's how it just sort of is," Tokumi decided. "He's just denying it because he's embarrassed."
Reiko returned just then and eyed each of them at the table expressionlessly. Finally her blank gaze fell upon Nekozawa.
"Do we have to cast a counter-curse?" she asked blandly.
"I assure you, there would be no cause for it," Nekozawa replied. "I have things under control."
"I'm going to cast one anyhow, Senpai," she announced. "The entire Host Club is under his spell. I won't have you falling under it while attempting to uncover its secrets."
"That's… kind, I suppose, but really, don't trouble yourself." Nekozawa held up his hands, curiously absent of Bereznoff. "I have more power than you give me credit for,"
"We'll see," she commented eerily before finding her seat. Haruhi then returned.
They filed into two rows in the center of the theater, the fourth and fifth rows because before the tickets had been purchased, the club had unanimously decided that the first three rows were just too close. Taro, Tokumi and Jun filled three seats in the fourth row while directly behind them sat Reiko, Nekozawa, and Haruhi.
It had been a very long time since Haruhi had gone to see a play, and most of the ones she had seen had been for school field trips, and almost never recreationally. She remembered, as the hall filled around her, that it was only because of Shinobu and the Black Magic Club that she was able to do this at all. If she hadn't come, she knew she probably wouldn't have regretted it because there were lots of things to occupy her time with, and it was hard to miss what you'd never had. But as it was, she was here; in an architecturally beautiful historic theater she had only ever heard about and never even seen the outside of. She would have to be sure to thank Nekozawa and his club, particularly Shinobu, who thought of Haruhi as her replacement when she was unfortunately forced to back out.
Slowly, the theater began to dim, and the audience hushed. An old man and a young man appeared on the stage.
The play was appropriately chosen for the Black Magic Club, and Haruhi could easily picture it being one of Nekozawa's favorites. It was about a man whose business brought him to a remote, waterlogged village where an old woman had passed away and he needed to find some important documents in her creaky house behind the cemetery. But the house was haunted by the vengeful ghost of the old woman's sister, looking for the lost child she had been forced to give away. The production was suspenseful and thrilling, and Nekozawa watched with amusement as the row in front of him, which had only an hour earlier been bragging about how nothing scares them, jumped several times in fright. Even the emotionless Reiko from time to time would sharply intake her breath in a short gasp.
But to Nekozawa's disappointment, it didn't seem like anything frightened Haruhi- not the dramatic lighting, not the creaking stairs, not even the ghost herself. He remembered that he'd tried, oh how he'd tried when the Host Club had come to rent his family's beachfront property for a weekend. He had succeeded is scaring just about everyone else, or if nothing else at least making them uncomfortable, but never Haruhi. It seemed she was invulnerable, and he would have left tonight thinking as such, if not for one thing neither of them were privy to.
Haruhi hadn't known that there were two scenes in this play that took place during a storm.
And Nekozawa hadn't known about Haruhi's one fear.
The prerecorded sound effects exploded across the theater, belting out the sound of rain slamming against a wet dirt road, and phantom horse hooves crashing, invisible, towards the actor as he reeled in fright. The horse's startled whinny, and the resounding crack of thunder shook the theater.
Nekozawa, who had seen this play before, had been anticipating the deafening volume of this scene and was not affected by it. What startled him instead was Haruhi's reaction beside him. For the first time, out of the corner of his eye he saw her jump in fright, and suddenly there was a pull at the shoulder of his shirt. Turning his head slightly he saw her fist clutching the material so hard her knuckles had turned white, and her weight was now leaning against him. A moment later, without a word or a glance, Haruhi pulled away. Nekozawa looked briefly towards her, and a small, imperceptible smirk crossed his lips.
The second time round of effects, later in the story, was a revisit of the first time- the same setting, the same phantom horse hooves, the same rain effects. When Haruhi recognized it, she immediately tensed, dreading what she knew came next. She hunched her head forward into her chest, as if hoping to drown out the sound with her shoulders, but nothing seemed to be sufficient preparation. Although he was mostly unobvious, Nekozawa's attention was on Haruhi now, intensely curious to see if she would react the same as she did before.
When the thunderclap reverberated loudly across the theater, Haruhi winced visibly, turning her pained face towards Nekozawa's shoulder again, her fists gripping the armrests on her seat. Unable to look away now, Nekozawa turned towards her and watched until she finally turned her eyes back towards the stage. She never met his gaze, and the small blush across her cheeks told Nekozawa quite clearly that she had no intention of doing so.
Resisting the impulse to do anything that would be considered 'reassuring', Nekozawa turned back to the stage. Haruhi had just revealed a weakness, and was embarrassed by it, perhaps hoping Nekozawa hadn't noticed. It was too soon to dash that hope.
The club decided after the play to share a car home so that they could continue to chat until everyone was dropped off. Jun's family owned several car dealerships (Taro called him "new money"), and so he called for the biggest vehicle to come and pick them up. Dismissing the rest of their drivers, the club was well on its way to the end of a very good evening.
Nekozawa was the only one who had seen the play before, and smiling, listened to his friends' excited reviews.
"Umehito, you didn't disappoint when you dragged us here. When that lady started tearing around the bedroom, I almost fell out of my chair!"
"I must have been the last person to see her when she was walking around the cemetery. I nearly had a heart attack when I found her!"
"That was way scary."
"Reiko, were you scared?" Tokumi grinned towards the dark haired girl. Before she had a chance to reply, Nekozawa chuckled darkly.
"She was."
She shot her club president a threatening look, scandalized, and he shrugged dramatically as the other boys laughed. "You flinched several times," he continued, to her horror. "I'm afraid it couldn't be helped."
She crossed her arms and turned away in a huff. "Perhaps I was offended at being seated next to you, Senpai," she said indignantly. Nekozawa merely grinned.
"How about you, Fujioka?" Tokumi then turned his attention towards Haruhi, sitting quietly. "Were you scared?"
"Not really," Haruhi replied honestly. "I mean, they're just actors performing a script."
For a moment there was a startled silence as they stared at her, to her confusion, until Taro finally erupted.
"You aren't supposed to be keeping that in mind when you watch a play!" he exclaimed. "I can't believe you fail at theater-going!"
"Nekozawa-Senpai, is he lying?" Tokumi looked speculatively at the upperclassman. Nekozawa considered for a moment. He glanced over at Haruhi, and noticed that she deliberately wasn't looking at him, and seemed somewhat tense. She knew that she had given herself away, and that he'd noticed, and Haruhi was a little embarrassed by it. Nekozawa weighed his options
"Actually, Haruhi didn't seem frightened at all," he confessed. "It was sort of infuriating, actually. I don't think ghosts frighten him."
She raised her eyes to him, a little surprised that he would lie on her behalf, but genuinely grateful. In Haruhi's opinion, already too many people knew about her fear of thunder, and if she'd known the play would exploit that she might have tried harder to decline. But then, she supposed, the performance WAS meant to scare her, which it succeeded in doing.
Unnoticed by the others, Haruhi caught Nekozawa as he turned slightly towards her with a wry smile, and then turned away. The almost undetectable gesture seemed to convey the message- your secret is safe with me. Haruhi's cheeks reddened lightly.
He's like Tamaki's reflection, she thought, But with the pretense of mystery replacing hyper-enthusiasm.
"That's so boring," Jun crossed his arms, annoyed. "You bore me, Fujioka!"
"You're just mad because Haruhi is manlier than you are," Tokumi grinned.
"Doesn't make his balls any bigger," Jun huffed. "He still looks like a girl." Taro backslapped Jun, while Haruhi turned bright red.
"You are so crude!"
"Ow! Don't be so stuck up, Taro! We talked like that all the time at my middle school!"
Nekozawa turned apologetically to Haruhi, speechless with humiliation, his eyes wide and panicked. She hadn't actually been offended, as she'd already figured Jun to be the type of person that says things like that. More than anything else, Haruhi thought that the look of horror on his face was incredibly funny. She started to giggle. Nekozawa seemed unsure how to react.
"Your face!" she laughed, "What a great face you made!"
Relieved that Haruhi wasn't offended but uneasy that she was laughing at him, Nekozawa relaxed, and tried to laugh though only succeeded in sounding sort of awkward.
Tokumi was dropped off first, and then Reiko. At their loss, the car was more spacious, but no less noisy as Jun and Taro continued to argue, and Nekozawa looked more and more uncomfortable. Finally they pulled up outside Haruhi's house. Jun and Taro couldn't help but to peer curiously out of the windows.
"Wow," said Taro in wonderment, "Why does your house have so many doors?"
"You're such a jerk, it's a town house!" Jun replied delightedly. "We used to live in one of these!"
"Would you like me to walk you to your door?" Nekozawa asked, turning to Haruhi.
"Thank you, Senpai," she replied dismissively, "but it's all of twelve feet. I think I can make it on my own."
"Well, then. Thank you for joining us tonight."
"Thank you for inviting me. I'll see you later."
The three watched as she exited the car and walked up the stairs to her house, pulling out her keys.
"Look!" Nekozawa pointed excitedly, "He's got the keychain I gave him!"
"Where? I don't see…"
"And this is something that thrills you, Senpai?"
"You could only see it for a moment… looks like he's inside now." The car pulled away. Nekozawa watched her house for a moment longer before turning back to his companions, to find them eyeing him suspiciously.
"Why did you want to walk him to his door?" Jun questioned. "Were you expecting a good-night kiss?"
"I was being courteous. I don't know what commoner customs are!"
"So you saw it in a movie and thought you'd try it? Those movies usually end in kissing. Senpai, do you want to kiss Haruhi?"
"No!" Nekozawa turned red as Taro and Jun exchanged knowing glances, smirking. His face fell into his hands, exasperated. "You are looking at it to hard, and finding things that aren't there."
"I think we have better eyes than you do," Taro replied with a smile.