"You look happier," Ranka greeted his daughter with a smile as he walked through the door. "And dinner smells amazing!"
"It's nothing special," she assured him with a chuckle as she walked into the living room to give him a hug. "How was your day?"
"Eh, normal, really. But yours must have been wonderful – I haven't seen a smile like that on your face in ages." He grinned, tossing his long hair over his shoulder with a wink. "Anything to do with one of your boys?" Haruhi was quite proud of herself for not blushing, for being able to keep her voice even when she replied.
"A little, yeah. I hung out with Honey-senpai for a while after school."
"Oh, so the three of you spent some time together outside of the Club?" he asked, knowing the cousins rarely went anywhere apart.
"No, Mori-senpai has a kendo tournament coming up, so we dropped him off at the dojo and went to...Honey-senpai called it his grove. We sat there for a while and talked."
"Well, if he managed to bring that big a smile to your face even now, I'm sure he's good at more than talking, eh?" he teased gently. This time she couldn't keep the flush from her cheeks or the outrage from her voice as she playfully slapped his arm.
"DAD! It's not like that!" she cried indignantly.
"Well, at least it wasn't that airhead Suoh boy," he mused, keeping his tone serious and thoughtful despite the twinkle in his eyes. "And though Haninozuka is small in stature he really is quite adorable. Oh, you two will make me the CUTEST grandbabies!" Ranka squealed delightedly, very carefully not laughing at the perturbed glare he was receiving from his daughter.
"DAD!" she squawked. "Stop that! He's just a...good friend." Seeing the slight dismay on Haruhi's face Ranka decided to have mercy on her and not mention that he'd heard her slight pause.
"Aww, I'm just teasing you," he said, pulling her into a hug. "It's my responsibility as your father to give you a hard time on occasion."
"On occasion?" she grumbled back good-naturedly. "Go get changed. Dinner's almost ready."
"Be right out." He kissed her hair, picking up a whiff of honeysuckle and wondering where it came from – Haruhi wasn't the type to wear perfume. Musing on the enigma that was his little girl he contemplated her future as he changed out of his clothes, pulling his hair back in a ponytail so he could scrub the makeup from his face.
He knew how badly she wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps, to become a lawyer, how hard she worked to keep her grades up, how determined she was. For a long time he worried that in reaching for her goal she would let the rest of her life pass her by, and the thought made him sad. And then through accident – fate? - she'd been pulled into this Host Club, this strange little group of boys from the richer-than-I'll-ever-be end of society. Against all odds she'd made friends, close friends, and he'd watched as they pulled Haruhi further from her self-contained grinding, slowly but surely introducing her to a life outside her studies – a feat Ranka knew he never would have been able to duplicate.
It was bittersweet, watching her grow and slowly come into her own as a person. She was still his little girl, still the culmination of the very best parts of himself and Kotoko, but at the same time she was absolutely her own person. Generous, kind, strong...nowhere near as oblivious as most people assumed, but he understood why she held herself apart. It hurt so much to know he wouldn't be around to see the amazing woman, wife, mother that he knew she would be, but at least he had this time now, watching the light of his life peek her large, dark eyes out of her cocoon and slowly prepare to spread her wings. He doubted he would ever find a way to express his gratitude to those wonderful boys for all that they did for Haruhi, but he took a lot of comfort in the knowledge that once he was gone she would never be alone. They didn't know it yet, he'd bet money, but every one of the hosts loved his daughter dearly, and he knew he could never ask for a better group to entrust the most precious thing in his world to.
"Dad – dinner!" Ranka blinked rapidly, realizing he'd been standing in front of his mirror, soap on his face and a damp, now cold washcloth in his hand while he'd been lost in his thoughts. A quick pass of the cloth over his face to remove the last of the soap, cosmetics, and tears, and he headed out towards the delicious smells.
They made small talk over dinner, Ranka regaling her with stories of work and Haruhi responding with tales from school, conversation going in bursts between bites. He mentioned his friends inviting him for a weekend trip leaving the following morning, and Haruhi encouraged him to go. She told him of the discussion about the beach trip and her decision to go once they'd capitulated to her conditions, and he accepted the idea happily. When dinner was nearly finished, though, he looked up to see her staring at her plate, obviously thinking.
"Haruhi?" he asked gently. When she looked up to meet his gaze he was shocked to see rebellion and tears in her eyes.
"I told Mitsukuni. About you." She watched as his expression glazed over in shock. Defiantly she continued. "Don't look so surprised. Even I need someone to talk to sometimes. He's the best listener I've ever met." She stopped when she realized he was still just sitting there, the startled expression never faltering, a bite of food frozen between the bowl and his open mouth. "Dad?" she asked, confused.
"That's the first time I've ever heard you call Honey-senpai by his name!" Ranka gasped.
"I...what?"
He laughed loudly at her flustered expression and the red blush that flared over her face. He couldn't resist a little jab.
"I approve, Haruhi. Now, where's my cellphone? I want to call my future son-in-law and congratulate him on capturing your heart!"
"DA-AAD!" she squealed before throwing a piece of cabbage at him. Ranka's laughter rang out happily and before long Haruhi had joined in, father and daughter united in mirth and love.
The room was dark, barely lit by the moon outside the window, and the only things he could hear were the ticking clock and Kaoru's even, steady breathing. Hikaru felt restless. Too many thoughts in his head, too much to mull over and ponder. He turned onto his side facing his twin, smiling softly as the younger one twitched and nuzzled his head into his pillow. The sliver of moon cast just enough of a glow to illuminate his brother's beautiful features. Times like this made him feel really lucky. Most people could go their whole lives without finding anyone who could truly understand them. He was blessed in the fact that he had someone who did. Brother, friend, lover...how could he put a label on what Kaoru was, what his twin meant to him? He reached over to brush a strand of hair from the sleeping beauty's forehead, smiling when Kaoru sighed and mumbled something unintelligible. How could I ever give this up, he wondered. Eventually things would change. For all that their mother was happy to let them do as they wished for the most part, the dream couldn't last forever. Marriage, heirs, business...all of the things looming over the horizon just waiting to dig barbed claws in and tear the two of them apart. It was enough to make him cry. How could he bear to let anything separate them?
Hikaru snuggled into his pillow, still watching his brother's sleeping form and wishing – not for the first time – that they'd been born into a commoner family. Kaoru would laugh at that, he thought. But it was something Hikaru wondered about with increasing frequency. To not have the weight of running an empire over their heads. No arranged marriages, no heirs, no contracts. To be free to love whomever they wished. Maybe, someday, to find a woman who would love them in return. And just like that his mind turned to Haruhi.
She knew them. Not like everyone else did, not as the Hitachiin twins, but as themselves. It was scary as hell, but it was also the most exhilarating feeling he'd ever known. It made him want to simultaneously run from her and run straight to her. He couldn't imagine his life without her any more than he could picture it without Kaoru. Where there once were two now there were three, and the lack of blood relation didn't make her any less cherished.
Kaoru was the romantic. Candlelight and soft words, gentle touches, that was his brother's style. He, on the other hand, was less inclined to be a tender gentleman. When he saw something he wanted, he dove for it with hands outstretched rather than patiently trying to coax it to his grasp. When it came to Haruhi, though...Hikaru snorted softly. With Haruhi he was a chicken. Oh, he'd tease and play with her but when it came to opening up and saying how he felt – well, that was another story entirely. He knew it would hurt too much if she rejected him. It would be almost as bad as if Kaoru turned away. Sooner or later, though, she would choose. It might be him, or it might be Kaoru. For that matter, she might choose one of the other hosts. Hell, she might turn from them all and connect with someone else entirely. He knew when that point came, regardless of her choice he would at least try to pretend to be happy. And until then he'd bask in her affection and keep his feelings quiet. She deserved to be able to decide on her future without any coercion.
He remembered how her lips had felt against his, how she had trembled when he pulled her to him and Kaoru plastered himself against her front, and a smile crossed his face. Closing his eyes, he felt himself begin to doze off.
Okay. Maybe just a little coercion.