The cultured voice of an older woman broke into my thoughts when I heard a familiar name. "Oh my, pieces by Komatsu Shoin?" she asked. "I never thought that I would find them here!"

Relations between the Komatsu family and mine went way back. When Shoin began his career crafting hand-painted porcelain, my family purchased many of his pieces and helped catapult him to his current status.

I zeroed in on the speaker where she stood at a counter across from a man clearly not among Shoin's regular art dealers. My brow lowered in suspicion.

"Um, Sempai?" Of course, Haruhi would notice my distraction.

I continued to listen to his spiel, convinced more than ever that he was a con man. As I approached, he was saying, "Pieces rarely come up for sale." I noticed the prices were exorbitant for this Expo, but fair enough for the real work. The woman was delighted at her find.

I was not. I had seen enough of the artist's work to recognize that these were not authentic.

"These are fake, madam." I addressed her as politely as possible. The shopkeeper balked, so I pointed out the obvious discrepancies—the wrong coloring, lacquer thickness, signature strokes. When he continued to maintain his veracity I threatened to call the Komatsus, informing him that our families were tightly connected.

A crowd had gathered at the commotion, including some security guards who took the shopkeeper away for questioning. While the woman spoke with one of the Expo managers, I noticed Haruhi watching me. There was admiration in her face, which quickly turned smug when she caught my eye. "Helping others is something that is beneficial to you after all, isn't Kyoya-sempai?" she challenged.

Oo, another point for Haruhi. And still holding on to her better opinion of me. Touching.

But I wouldn't let her undo all my hard work today—I had an ace up my sleeve. "Ah, didn't you know? Her husband is the CEO of a major electronics company. This is my first time to meet her personally, but that ring on her left hand is unmistakable. My family has dealings with her husband's company."

Frustration crumpled her face, and I could barely restrain a chuckle. Oh, how she hated losing.

The insult was compounded when the woman came over to thank me, naming me as "one of the Ootori boys" without my introducing myself. She thanked me and I responded graciously as I had been trained to do. Haruhi's rose-colored glasses were nowhere to be found.

I strolled over to a display of candies. Melon-flavored drops. Melon-flavored gum. Kiwi and melon flavored corn snacks? "Hey, Haruhi," I called over my shoulder. "Did you know this?"

"Did I know what?"

"Are melons really this popular among candy makers?" I perused the list of ingredients as I considered this odd commoner snack. How might it taste? "It doesn't make sense," I mused. "If the primary ingredient is corn, why go to the trouble of artificially making it taste like fruit? Seems counter-intuitive."

I heard muffled snorts of laughter behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Haruhi chortling.

He spirits revived, she playfully echoed my own words from earlier. "That's an intriguing notion, in its own way." Her clever echo of my phrase sent her into another round of giggles.

At that very moment I fell for her, hard. To match wits with her was like a burst of bright flavor, all sensation and happiness. Everything else in my life tasted like melon-flavored corn snacks.

I guess. I don't truly know how melon-flavored corn snacks taste. Oh crap! I realized my focused interest was written all over my face. I tried to maintain my façade. "Oh, was I being funny?"

She chuckled again. "Earlier you were going on and on about how you and Tamaki-sempai are nothing alike, but what you just said about the candy? It sounds exactly like him!"

"You think so?" I surrendered and gave her a genuine smile. Because she was right. I was friends with Tamaki because we both had a curiosity about the world and found enjoyment in trying new and outrageous things, and because our souls gained something when we brought happiness to others.

Even though I maintained my dignity on the outside, Tamaki had encouraged me to explore the silly things that captured my imagination-whims I had never been allowed to indulge as a child. I looked at the goofy cartoon-covered box again. "This does seem like something he and the twins would be thrilled over. Very well, I'll buy them." I reached toward my empty pocket and remembered my lack of funds. "Haruhi, your wallet, please."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," she said, less perky now that her cash was dwindling. Rummaging in her purse, she said, "Just be sure to save me a receipt, okay?"

We made purchases at a few more vendors—oddities I wanted to try. But I grew more moody as I struggled to reconcile my desire to honor my friendship with the desire of my heart. My unsettled emotions, coupled with a serious lack of sleep, left me brooding. "Can we sit down a minute?" Haruhi asked.

"Good idea." We took a seat on one of the benches against the wall.

"Hey, Sempai, why do you think that Tamaki-sempai is always so eager to help people when they're in need?"

"You mean when there's nothing to be gained from it?" By reflex I reinforced the image I had painted of myself earlier. "Who knows?"

"So then when you help someone, how exactly do you benefit from it?" Her eyes tried to pierce my shell. "Money? Or reputation? Or is it more abstract?" I refused to meet her gaze, and she looked away, staring at nothing. "The way I see it, Tamaki-sempai gets something out of helping others that doesn't necessarily involve their paying him back. So maybe when you get right down to it, the two of you aren't all that different."

I recalled Tamaki's generous impulses. Could I really be even close to as open-hearted as he? Would that be taken as weakness? Haruhi seemed to admire it, to find it…attractive…in me. She wanted me to be like Tamaki in that way. Was I?

My happy musings were interrupted by an announcement over the intercom requesting a lost child, Kyoya Ootori, be returned to his guardian, Suou, at the second floor information desk. As my name and description were repeated for all the world to hear, I swear I saw red. "I'm going to kill him," I snarled. I didn't even notice whether Haruhi followed as I stalked toward the escalators.

When I approached the information desk, Tamaki played the part of the overjoyed parent. "Oh, Kyoya, thank goodness you're safe!" He danced toward me with open arms. Haruhi emerged from where she had been trailing me. Probably planning to throw herself between me and Tamaki so I couldn't tear him limb from limb. Tamaki was immediately cowed, not by the storm clouds on my face, but at being discovered in his spying. "Um, why is Haruhi here?" he cringed.

Honey and the twins were elated with the addition of their favorite host club member, but she firmly informed them that she was worn out and headed home. My eyes were tired too, and I dragged them back to Tamaki only to find him on the floor in a giggling puddle being accosted by a golden retriever.

"What's with the dog?" I asked.

"Isn't she great? I just bought her at the pet shop up on the roof." He continued happily wrestling with her.

Childish whims, indeed.

My wavering ceased at the sight. A decision cemented itself in both my heart and mind. Tamaki's unselfish compassion was indeed admirable, but an intellect like Haruhi's would not be content with a big heart and an empty head. And I couldn't trust him to be responsible for her, or with her heart. His whim might carry him away with another girl as quickly as he had latched onto Haruhi. His devil-may-care attitude about his father's business might one day land him in bankruptcy and ruin, bringing heartache to those depending upon him.

No. From now on she would be mine to win or lose. There would be no more yielding to make way for him—even if he was my best friend…

…Who was currently being licked to death on the floor in front of us. "Tell me again, Haruhi. How are this idiot and I alike?"

Her big brown eyes regarded me thoughtfully before answering my rhetorical question. "Earlier, when you said that you decided to help out that lady because you saw her ring…you were lying, weren't you?" I looked at her sharply. How could she know? "When you first saw that woman, you couldn't have seen her ring. There was a flag in front of us that blocked your view of her hands."

"I just don't understand it," she continued, turning to leave. "Intentionally acting like you only care about your own interests, when you're really a nice guy. " She slanted me a sly look. "It seems counter-intuitive."

Touché. An appreciative smile crept across my face. I answered her retreating back. "That's an intriguing notion, in its own way." She froze, then broke into giggles again. Yes, matching wits with her will be delightful.