Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the third son, Kyōya was (somehow) the one required to save the Ootori image. It was a new dog, new tricks sort of thing. That and his older brothers are causing most of the problems and are already married. They went off gallivanting at night getting caught up in sex, the occasional non-addictive drug, and expensive and lavish parties at hotels, casinos, and clubs of various types. Combine that with the wealth of the family and the fact that his father liked to make decisions that often made him richer and everyone else poorer, and Kyōya supposed he should have seen this coming.

He apparently knew the young lady he would marry.

The twins certainly did.

When he told the old Host Club his future bride’s name, they had both thrown a little fit. Apparently she could tell them apart. He would believe it when he saw it.

Tamaki proceeded to tell him all the ways he could woo his “fiancée”.

As painful that it was to admit that Tamaki was probably his only friend, it was not painful to admit that he had about a 5% chance of listening to Tamaki’s advice when in came to women.

So, here he was. The day before he started his second year and Ouran University (the most exclusive and expensive university in [probably] the world), waiting at the front of the shrine for his future wife to come down the aisle

He had convinced his father against the traditional Japanese wedding in favor a wedding that screamed exclusivity. A grand total of 20 people, including family where there. Five of those people were Kyōya’s friends from Ouran. Eight of those people were his family. One was hers. The remaining six were the people that Kyōya’s father needed to impress to save face, one of which was a reporter for a gossip magazine.

The doors at the end of the aisle opened, and down she walked.

No bridesmaids.
No music.
No escort.

Just. Her.

Kyōya recognized her.

The scholarship student.

She was… cute?

She wore her hair up in a simple bun, a single metal cherry blossom comb as an accent and a single silver pendant on a plain chain hanging off a slender neck. A simple dress, just to her knees, in plain white and coming out at her waist. A modest scoop neck showing just a bit of collar bone. A small bouquet of pink roses still tied together with the twine from the florist. The smallest amount of makeup.

She was simple.

Unlike his sister.

Or his sisters-in-law.

She would suit him well.

The ceremony was fast. The exchanging of silver wedding bands was fast. He noticed a small silver ring holding the place for her wedding band, another silver band but this with a small single diamond in the center.

They kissed. It was quick. Chaste. Simple.

The dinner was quiet. They barely said anything to each other.

Everything was just…

Simple.

So when their fathers stood, her’s with a long, clean pony tail and a plain suit, his with an overt display of monetary superiority, and announced they had decided to gift the new couple with a small apartment near campus to build their lives together away from prying eyes, Kyōya sighed. It was almost painful not to roll his eyes.

His father was limiting their movement. Giving them a small apartment, as nice to get away from family, was his father’s way of telling him to procreate.

Well…

That wouldn’t happen.

And his wife didn’t look happy either.

He wondered why.

Haruhi Fujioka , Kyōya thought. Now Haruhi Ootori. What secrets are you hiding?

Chapter Text

BEEP! BUZZ! BEEP! BUZZ! BEEP! BUZZ!

WOOP! WOOP! WOOP! WOOP!

AAANNN! AAANNN! AAANNN! AAANNN!

Three alarms went off at the same time the morning after the wedding.

One was hers. The standard vibrating beep of her cell phone.

The other two were foreign to her.

She rolled over to turn them off when she realized.

One. Room.

One. Bed.

And there was her husband (that was a weird though), shoving his head underneath a pillow. Cute .

Then she panicked and got out of the bed (read: jumped so fast she almost got tangled in the sheets and fell), ran over to his side, and snoozed each alarm, the old fashion one for ten minutes, the phone for fifteen, and headed to the kitchen.

She was in her sweatpants, a long sleeve shirt, and the thickest wool socks she owned.

Last night was… a surprise.

He had opened the door for her and handed her the extra keys. “After you.”

She smiled and walked into the apartment. It was like the one she grew up in, only nicer. And…

One bedroom.

“There seems to be only one bedroom.” She pointed out.

“Yes.” Kyōya agreed.

They stood in silence.

“We cannot continue to be awkward like this.” He held out his hand. “You are the scholarship student of the year below mine. Impressive.”

“Thank you.” She smiled shyly and took his hand giving it a firm shake. “To be honest, I don’t know much about your family.”

“I am not my family.” Kyōya replied.

“I don’t know much about you then, either.” Haruhi retorted.

Kyōya nodded. “You… you look lovely.”

“Thank you. I felt underdressed.” She admitted.

“You weren’t.” Kyōya shook his head. “You can change into something more comfortable if you want, and we can sit down with some tea and talk about it.”

“Do you know how to make tea?”

“Of course.” Kyōya had made more tea than he could count (actually, he knew exactly how much tea he had made and how much it cost) for the host club. “Green, oolong, something else?”

“Green is fine.” She smiled. “Or peppermint.”

“Understood.”

Haruhi had retreated into the bedroom to find two massive closets on one side, a california king, a door to what looked like a ridiculously fancy and large bathroom, and a wall of windows. She saw one of the closets had some dresses hanging in one corner and figured that one was hers. She dug through the drawers, looking for something comfortable to wear.

She found some cotton thermal pants in one drawer that would cuff around her ankles, took off her pantyhose, and threw the grey pants on. Next, she found the socks, picking warm looking purple wool socks that were extremely cushioned on the bottom and in the toes, and pulling them on over the bottoms of her pants. She found the shirts last. Choosing a long sleeved, light purple cotton shirt, she stripped out of her dress and yanked the shirt over her head.

Next she headed to the bathroom, where she found a well organised his and hers set of sinks and medicine cabinets, a bath, and obscenely large shower, and a toilet. She made quick use of the disposable makeup wipes, a brush and the toilet before heading back to the closet. She thought she saw a jewelry box in there.

What she found instead was a jewelry chest. “Damn rich bastards.” She sighed. Here they were with closets for their jewelry and she and her father had to pinch pennies so that they could afford their bills every month. She pulled her mother’s locket off and set it on one of the hooks for necklaces. Her father had given it to her this morning, saying she would fill it when the time was right. She wondered when that would be.

She came back to find him sitting in one of the oversized arm chairs and a pot of tea on the table.

“Haruhi.” He nodded.

“K-Kyōya.” She nodded as she sat down

“You look comfy.”

“I am.” She smiled.

He poured her a cup of tea. “Now,” he handed it over, “let’s talk.”

Kyōya had been kind last night. She smiled as she pressed the button on an automatic tea machine. She would have to set it for a little before she woke up, so it would be ready for her. She looked through the cupboards before finding her favorite brand of granola. She opened the fridge and seasonal berries and some vanilla yogurt. Not a particularly healthy breakfast, nor was it traditional, but delicious and easy to transport all the same. She took her bowl and mug over to a two person table in a breakfast nook.

She says breakfast nook.

It was a… what was it called? Oh yes. Bay window, but bigger.

AAANNN! AAANNN! AAANNN! AAANNN!

Kyōya’s alarm went off.

“FUCK!” she heard him shout at something then a crash.

She winced and stood to make Kyōya a bowl of granola. She put the dry ingredients in, some fruit on the table, and the carton of milk and they yougurt in front of the other spot before noticing that there was a large selection of strong coffee in a ready-brew system, so she pressed that, making sure to put a larger than needed cup down in case milk or sugar was required.

He came in as she was sitting down again.

“Good morning.” She said as politely as she could knowing she heard him screaming a profanity not two minutes ago. “I started your coffee and I have some breakfast on the table.”

Kyōya looked at her like he forgot she was supposed to be there, then to the table, then back to her. “Thank you.” He mumbled before walking over to the coffee. He opened the fridge. Haruhi where is the-”

“Milk is over here. I didn’t want the granola to get soggy.” She smiled.

“Oh.” He took the mug in one hand and stalked over to the table before sitting down with a less than graceful thud. He poured more milk than she thought he would into his coffee, and then everything made sense. He downed it. In about three gulps. 12 ounces of coffee in less than 30 seconds. He stood, went back over to the machine, and brewed a new cup, then added another pod and brewed that one into the oversized mug as well.

Haruhi mutely sipped her tea.

Kyōya walked back to the table, sat down again, added only a splash of milk and a dash of sugar before taking a polite sip.

“So I take it that you aren’t a morning person?” Haruhi sipped her tea again.

“Mornings are a foul monstrosity that I will be glad to be over and done with.” Kyōya snapped.

Haruhi sipped her tea again and shoved an orange slice in her mouth.

“Apologies. I did not mean to sound angry.” Kyōya sighed.

“What time did you come to bed last night?” She knew she had fallen asleep around midnight, being exhausted and finishing up on getting ahead in her reading for her one english literature class.

“I would say about three. The sun was starting to rise.”

“Kyōya, that’s more like five.” Haruhi eyed him. “That plus all this caffeine isn’t healthy for you.”

“I think I know my body better than you, Haruhi.” Kyōya snapped.

Well I would like to know it better… she thought. Why did she think that? Yes Kyōya was handsome… shit. A crush thats turning quickly into lust . She did not have time for that. But why shouldn’t she want… he is her husband.

“Haruhi?” Kyōya eyed her over his coffee.

She shook her head. “Just wondering what my first class will be like.”

“And that would be?”

“Legal documents, 200.” She smiled and took another bite of her granola.

“200? With Hijikata?”

“Yes.” Haruhi nodded. “And before you as, I tested into it.”

“I wasn’t- that is my first class as well.”

Haruhi blushed. “In the future, should I make your breakfast so you can have that extra 15 minutes of sleep?”

“That would be… pleasant.”

Haruhi nodded. “I have to get to school a little early to fill out some forms,” she took her last bite of breakfast and took them to the sink to rinse.

“Forms?”

“About scholarship information.” She washed her bowl and cup, then placed them in the rack. “I’ll get dressed now and leave shortly after.”

“Will you need the car?”

“Car?” She blinked. “The school is 10 blocks.”

“Yes.”

“I walked every day to and from my home from high school. My folder that you have should tell you that it was a 30 minute walk. 10 blocks is nothing.” She stated before walking into the bedroom, and then the closet.

20 minutes later, she was about to walk out the door. “I will see you in class… Kyōya.” She turned and smiled at him.

He just grunted and went back to his paper.

… … … … … … … ...

She ran into Kyōya outside of her classroom. He had large travel cup with what she assumed was coffee in it. Kyōya opened the door for her and immediately, the room went silent. Haruhi checked her watch. 5 minutes early, like planned. She wasn’t late.

“After you.” Kyōya whispered close to her ear.

She just nodded mutely and went in.

The only seats available were the back row two in the center.

Her way up the stairs, a rather muscled student stuck his leg out in an attempt to trip her, only to have Kyōya catch her arm as she fell.

“Are you alright?” Kyōya pulled her closer to him.

She smiled and nodded.

“I am assuming that was an accident, Mitsuhide Waba.” Kyōya glared.

“Apologies.” He bowed his head.

“Just don’t do it again.” Kyōya sniffed.

They made it to their seats and set up their stations.

Kyōya with just his laptop, Haruhi with four different colored pens (black for general notes, green for questions, red for statements the professor marked as important, and any other color for personal thoughts and opinions), her notebook, her book for the class, and her recorder. Next she pinned her hair up off her neck and slipped her glasses on.

She looked over again to see Kyōya staring at her.

“What?” She bit her lip.

“Nothing.” He shook his head.

Just then the professor entered and the class quieted immediately.

“I will not accept anything less than 97% in this class. That means, that the best and the worst student will be separated by three percent. Only the top 10 in this class will be eligible for my summer internship and that will be limited to 5 by my own choice for an interview, and then I will choose two based on my own personal preference.” He slammed his papers and book on the podium. “Now turn to chapter one. We will start with the first two chapters today.”

Haruhi started her recorded and wrote down every word she could.

Mornings were about to get much, much harder.

Chapter Text

Kyōya had, in the single month that they had been married, never seen where the food he ate came from. When he woke up, there was tea for Haruhi and coffee for him made just how he liked it. He got his lunch from the cafeteria at the college, and when he got home, there was dinner ready on the table.

So when he didn’t sleep one night after staying up trading and working, he was surprised to see Haurhi walk into their shared closet in her sleep wear, come out in her clothes for the day, and head straight to the kitchen. Neither of them had classes today, so he was wondering what she was doing up. He followed her into the main room, now decorated in little things that she had found to decorate the place. A new lampshade here, a different pillow there, a blanket on the couch. All these things inexplicable made this apartment seem easier to come home to.

But what surprised him, was Haruhi. She trod into the kitchen, started the pots for tea and coffee, got out bread and eggs and spices and started working.

“Haurhi, what are you doing?” He grumbled.

“Making breakfast.” She smiled.

“Why?”

“So we can eat.” She giggled.

It was too early in the morning for giggles.

“You… make the breakfast?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Who else?”

“I thought there was a chef.”

She giggled again.

It was too early for giggles.

“Let me help.” He walked into the kitchen. After all, cooking was chemistry. How hard could it be?

“Do you know how to make french toast?” She looked up at him.

“Like normal toast.”

“No.” She shook her head and bit back a laugh. “How about you handle scrambling the eggs?” She handed him the package.

He took one out and readied it over the bowl. How hard could this be?

“Just be-”

He hit it on the edge of the bowl and it exploded all over his hand, egg going everywhere and shell ending in the bowl.

“-careful.” She sighed. “Have you ever cooked anything before?”

“No.” He pursed his lips.

“Let me show you.” She came over and grabbed the bowl to rinse it out, handing him a wet towel to clean his hands.

“Now, “ she handed him a new egg when his hands were clean, “gentle.” She took his hand in hers and ran through the motion. “Like this, on the table, then split it over the bowl.” She grabbed an egg, “like this.” She demonstrated and broke the egg over the bow, throwing the egg shells into a plastic pot. He nodded and gave it a try. Shell pieces ended up in the bowl, but the entirety of the egg did as well.

“How do I-”

“Like this,” she dipped her finger in some water and fished out a piece, dipping her finger in water after every piece was retrieved. “Now do that twice more while I get the spices and milk.”

“Okay.” He nodded and did it again. Shells still landed in the bowl, but it was better than before. The last one went in clean, ready to go. He turned to look at her. “What’s next?”

“Add these things in the amounts I tell you.” She smiled. “Honey first. I’ve already measured it and warmed it up.”

“Alright.” He poured it into the bowl with the eggs.

“Now the milk, one cup.”

“Large or small?”

She giggled again. “The measuring cup.” She handed him a set of cups from a drawer. “And then add a pinch of salt.”

“Alright.” He finished with the milk and salt.

“Add some of the nutmeg and the cinnamon.” She pointed. “Just a gentle shake or two of each should do and then you beat them with a fork.”

He did what he was told. It was a strange sensation, not know what to do or how to do it. But it didn’t seem to be too bad. He stirred the eggs and Haruhi laughed at him.

“That isn’t how you beat an egg.” She took his hand and repositioned the fork. “Try again, like this.” She moved his hand.

“How did you learn to cook?” He asked as he started again.

“My mother taught me.” She smiled fondly and pulled out a bowl of berries. “She left me many recipes before she died. I’ve been cooking them for my father for years.”

Kyōya swallowed. “When did your mother die?”

“I was five. I did a lot of learning on my own to make sure my father ate properly.” She sighed. “Let me teach you how to cut these strawberries.”

“Don’t you just eat them?”

“You can. But they’re easier to eat this way.” She pulled out the berries and walked him through cutting it step by step. “Your turn! I’m going to start cooking the bread.”

He watched as she dipped the bread and melted butter and placed the bread in the pan with practiced ease.

It took three pieces of bread before he realized he was supposed to be doing something.

He was slow, finishing cutting the fruit just after all the bread was done cooking. His pieces were uneven and rough, compared to the clean cuts of Haruhi’s single strawberry.

He told himself that it was because she only did the one, just to make himself feel better.

They sat down in their breakfast nook by the windows, the plate stacked high in the middle, syrup and jam and butter around it.

He had to admit, they were very good. He put in too much cinnamon, but that was balanced by spreading some jam across it.

“You cook every morning?”

“Yeah!”

“Would you… like help?” He paused with a piece of food in front of his mouth.

“I wouldn’t mind.” She shrugged. “But I'm used to it so if you don’t want to it isn’t a big deal.”

“Used to it…” He mumbled around his food. He swallowed and smiled at her. “That’s an interesting notion, in its own way.”

Chapter Text

Even though they share the same class three days a week in the morning, Haruhi has never gone to class with Kyōya. She has met him there. She has seen him sitting at their spots, back row center seats, waiting for her. She has waited for him to stroll in one minute before class starts. But she has never walked down the hall with him. Never through the front door to the law building. Never out the front door of their apartment.

“Kyōya, may I ask you something?” She looks up from her spot.

“Yes?” He looks up from his paper.

“Why don't you ever walk to class with me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Class isn't that far away. And I know you like sleeping extra in the morning, but it's only at most a 25 minute walk.”

“An Ootori doesn’t walk.” He snapped and went back to his paper.

She let it be.

Until she didn’t.

“Can you walk me to class tomorrow?”

“Why?”

“Because,” she snapped, “it would be nice for my husband to walk me to class every now and then. I'm sorry if my natural and human need to exercise puts you at a disadvantage.” She stood up from her spot at the dinner table and stormed into the bedroom.

Kyōya didn't come to bed at all that night.

Haruhi realized he kept her warm.

She didn't sleep at all.

He was ready and waiting for her when she was ready to go to school the next morning.

“I will walk you to class today.” He conceded.

“What?” She looked up from her tea.

“I could also benefit from the exercise now that physical education is no longer required. Walking to school is both an effective and low energy way to receive my exercise. And…”

“Yes?”

Kyōya looked back to his paper. “There is something I cannot put my finger on just yet. But I think it has to do with you.”

“Maybe you just want to make your wife happy?”

“That's an interesting notion. I will take it under consideration.”

Haruhi decided small victories were more than enough for now.

Chapter Text

Their studies are important. It's the one thing they can agree on from the very beginning. And Haruhi notices that the more they study together, the easier time Haruhi has dealing with Kyōya. He comes to bed earlier, waking Haruhi each and every time regardless of how careful he is due to her light sleeping habits. He wakes up easier, only hitting the snooze one and with minimal profanities instead of like that first morning they shared together. The bags under his eyes are slowly vanishing and less coffee is consumed each morning. There is no longer the necessary massive cup of coffee consumed in as little time as possible and Haruhi notices that he has swapped his travel thermos of coffee out for strong black (what she assumes is breakfast) tea.

There is, however, one aspect of studying that they do not agree on.

It is not the recording of classes. Kyōya has started to do that as well, making his grades even higher than before and increasing his GPA even farther past the 4.00 mark.

It isn’t that Haruhi highlights in her books, even though Kyōya winces every time her color coded highlighters hit the page.

It isn’t how they organize their desks: Kyōya into neat boxes, labeled and lined up in a perfect line, Haruhi into desk organizers color coded by class and organized by date of completion.

The one problem...
          is note taking.

Kyōya, like practically everything he does, takes his notes on his computer. With his 99.9999999999999% (Haruhi is making a logical assumption there) typing accuracy, and his (what seemed to Haruhi) a bajillion word per minute count, it makes sense.

Kyōya cannot understand, however, why Haruhi likes taking paper notes.

“Easier to color code.” She says at first.

So he starts color coding his typeface.

“Easier to arrange things where I want.” She points out that she has altered the spacing of her note books, so that she has one column outlined in thick black marker on one side of the page with just personal notes, comments, and questions, and a summary of the day written on the top blank margin of the page, with numbers on the middle bottom and dates on the bottom right.

So he starts writing his notes in a similar fashion, purchasing a small bluetooth mouse for ease.

Haruhi notices his grades jumping even more.

“I like the feeling of writing. It helps me memorize things better.” Haruhi finally says.

“Prove it.” He replies.

So one month. One month she goes without her pens and her notebooks.

And Kyōya notices the change instantly.

The less detailed notes.

The more cluttered desk.

The stress rise as Haruhi loses her charger.

The ever so slight drop in her GPA.

It takes her longer to complete her work.

It takes her longer to study for her test, and when Kyōya quizzes her, he notices she takes longer to remember things.

After the end of the month, Haruhi immediately goes back to her paper and pen method. Kyōya smiles as he sees the change again.

Her notes are clean and crisp and specific.

Her desk space instantly clears.

Haruhi sleeps through the night, the bags under her eyes disappearing.

Her GPA rises past where it was before.

Her work is completed faster and more efficiently.

She remembers her materials in half the time.

Kyōya, for the sake of equality, undergoes the same treatment as Haruhi did.

And finds that, while it may not be as efficient for him to write the notes for class, hand writing materials to memorize does make things easier. HIs desk, as clean and organized as it is, seems to open more, and he realizes it's because he would need more space for the materials needed.

After the month, he may have gone back to his typing, but he finds that doing things the old fashioned way my not be so bad sometimes.

To commemorate the realization, he goes to a stationary store to find something special for Haruhi. A gift of thanks, for helping him and tolerating his experiment.

He finds something perfect and brings it home, surprisingly anxious as to whether or not Haruhi would like it.

He had never worried about a gift before.

He would have to investigate further.

Haruhi was sitting at her desk, working on something on her computer.

“Hello Haruhi.” He nodded as he slipped his shoes off.

“Hello Kyōya. Welcome back.” She smiled at him.

His nerves doubled.

“To thank you for participating in that little experiment of mine, I got you something.”

“Really?”

He handed her the black box with the silver ribbon, heart racing as she opened it.

Maybe he needed a doctor?

“Oooo!” She smiled brightly. “I’ve read about these! The pens that have five different colors!”

“Yes. This one is refillable. I figured it would save you space, it would be more efficient, and also save the environment.” He swallowed.

“Thank you!” She stood and hugged him and his heart started to race in a different way.

Maybe he didn’t need a doctor, he thought as he softly wrapped his arms around her waist. Maybe he needed a blonde, french idiot.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t easy, sleeping with Haruhi.

And not for any particular reason.

Haruhi was just…

such a pretty sleeper.

Kyōya couldn’t take it.

She was also an incredibly light sleeper. The second night she spent in the apartment, Kyōya came in, opening the door to their bedroom (still an odd notion to him), and the light hit her face prompting her to wake up. After that, he left the light off in the living room, but the sound of the door opening would wake her up.

So they decided to try leaving the door closed until the latch of the door knob just hit the frame. It worked, until he had to change into his clothes for bed.

The the sound of his rummaging woke her up.

So he changed for bed when she did and just went straight to the bathroom.

There, the sound of water woke her up.

Seeing as they couldn’t help that one, they came up with a compromise.

Kyōya would get ready for bed at the same time she did.

It didn’t seem much like a compromise at first, but then he found that the only thing he was really giving up was extra cups of coffee to keep him up later.

Instead, cold water started to have the same effect of the caffeine, after the jitters (which he still did not believe he had let his caffeine addiction go that far) ended.

He would then go from his work to the bed, only causing Haruhi to shift around to get comfortable when the mattress moved from the extra weight, and he would fall right asleep.

Sometimes.

Most of the time he would lay there for several minutes, just looking at Haruhi sleeping.

And thus brings us back to the beginning.

He would get to sleep sooner, if she wasn’t so distracting.

Tamaki would tell him it was because he was falling in love with her.

Kyōya would scoff at that. Ootoris do not fall in love.

But…

There was some merit in what Tamaki had said, he would admit staring at his sleeping wife. And even after all these months, he would still find it strange to turn down dinners often because his “wife is waiting at home with dinner” .

Kyōya would venture a great deal of money that he and Haruhi had eaten more meals together in these brief months than his brothers and their wives combined per year.

She mewled in her sleep bringing his attention out of his thoughts and back onto her. She was burying her face in her pillow and then sighed while relaxing again.

She just looked so peaceful.

He was sure when he slept he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. But Haruhi, she was so schooled at keeping most of her emotions hidden, and then to see her sleep in such a relaxed state…
He envied her.

He rolled onto his back.

Envy.

Not an emotion he was accustomed to.

Maybe he was more human than he thought.

If she didn’t wake up next to him every morning, she wouldn’t believe he slept at all.

But she would wake up before her alarm even went off in the mornings, turning off before it could wake Kyōya and then spend five minutes waking up and watching him.

He looked so happy in his sleep.

Like he had finally had the weight of his world taken off his shoulders for a little while.

Haruhi remembers learning Greek mythology. It had fascinated her and so she dug deeper. Kyōya reminded her of Atlas, condemned by a tyrant to keep the world in the sky.

In the brief time she had known the Ootoris, she had seen the tyranny of the patriarch and the way his brothers had started to try to destroy Kyōya. And she had watched, as he spent hours buying and selling faster than she could compute, slowly destroying them instead.

Kyōya was Atlas, keeping the Ootori name from sinking into ruin.

He owned them.

The mysterious K.O.

And after trading was done, after he had kept the world in the sky, he would sit back, rub his eyes, pushing his glasses up to his forehead for a moment, before starting on his school work.

Yes, his father was a tyrant.

But his father didn’t realize that without Kyōya, he would have nothing.

And she watched him sleep in the mornings, knowing that in this position, she could protect him.

She was, in Kyōya’s sleep, his protector.

She could keep the minotaurs and cyclopes and chimera away.

She could be Crios, left in charge of protecting the sea nymph. She would laugh at calling Kyōya a sea nymph. But while he slept, she could protect him from Vamari, the vampire squid who devours sea nymphs.

In his few hours of sleep, she could keep his happiness safe.

She could help him find peace.

She could help him.

And maybe that would help her.

Because, oh boy , did she have the most massive crush on her husband.

Chapter Text

Kyōya sighed as he listened to Haruhi yell at her bag.

“Why don’t you just get a new one? This one is obviously too small for what you need it to do.”

“Anything bigger and I’ll start having problems.”

Kyōya let that one go. He’ll just get her a new one.

Kyōya huffed as he listened to Haruhi flinch as she stabbed herself with a sewing needle.

“It’s just a sock, Haruhi.”

“It’s just a small hole, Kyōya. No use wasting a good pair of socks.”

Kyōya let that one go too. He’ll just get her some more.

Kyōya eyes the necklace Haruhi is playing with. It’s plain and silver and boring and looks somewhat cheap. Not as cheap as Haruhi’s slippers, but still. It has to be the least expensive piece of jewelry he’s seen.

Kyōya makes a stop at the jewelry store on his way back from classes.

The moment Haruhi puts the necklace on, she feels something is wrong. She looks at the charm closer.

NO!

She rumages around all her things.

It's gone.

The necklace her father gave her. The one she wore at the wedding. The one that was her mother’s. It’s gone.

“Kyōya!” She runs out of her closet and into the living room.

There she notices. Her bag… its different.

“You…”

“I bought you a new bag Haruhi.”

“I said I didn’t want one.”

“Yours would have fallen apart if you carried on like you were.” Kyōya sighed. “But what were you screaming about. Ootori’s don’t lose their composure like that.”

Haruhi holds out the offending necklace. “My necklace is missing.”

“You’re holding it there.” Kyōya sighs.

“No. This is a fake.”

“I assure you, it is genuine.” Kyōya says before he realized he just admitted (more or less) to taking Haruhi’s necklace.

“You took my locket!?” She yelled.

“If you want a locket, I will return that one and get you a nicer locket so you don’t have to wear crap.” Kyōya stood. “And don’t yell at me. Wives do not-”

“Not every family is as backwards as yours.” Haruhi snapped. “And for your information. That necklace,that piece of crap , belonged to my mother!” She threw the necklace at him and ran out of the apartment, only remembering her shoes and nothing else.

Kyōya looked at the floor, at the piece of silver glinting in the light.

Well… crap.

It was now after lunch and Haruhi was still not back yet. He had gotten Haruhi’s mother’s necklace back from Tachibana, as well as some flowers (because according to Tamaki, flowers fixed everything) and was sitting in the kitchen waiting for Haruhi to return.

He hadn’t known. She hadn’t told him that the necklace…

And what did she mean when she called his family backwards?

He didn’t understand.

And that was a new feeling all together.

Tachibana was waiting with him, refusing to leave his side.

“Tachibana?”

“Yes?”

“Are the Ootori’s backwards?”

“Let me put it to you this way sir,” Tachibana cleared his throat, “the only people I know of who actively practice arranged marriage are royalty and the families of Ouran. And many of the families at Ouran will let their daughters take over companies, and have women on their boards. How many women in your family have ever had a job? How many marriages have been of choice?”

Kyōya thought.

“And while you are thinking of that, Haruhi’s father works three jobs. Two, now that he does not need to support Haruhi. She grew up in an apartment that was the size of the living room. Everyone around her worked. Everyone she knew chose their spouse. Everyone she knew was doing something they loved.”

Kyōya thought more.

“I am not saying your family is backwards. But which group sounds like they have the happier life?”

Kyōya sighed.

“She will be back, sir.” Tachibana stood. “I must leave you know. My wife and daughter are waiting for me.”

“Did you choose your wife?” Kyōya asked.

“Yes. And I chose this job. And I have never regretted it.”

Kyōya sighed and pulled out his phone, calling a number he had yet to use.

“Hello?”

“Ranka? This is Kyōya.”

Haruhi finally walked through the door right before dinner.

She was wet from the rain that was beginning and cold and hungry and-

“Haruhi!” Kyōya ran over to her. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” She mumbled.

“I-” Kyōya dug into his pocket. “I never got rid of it.” He held out the necklace.

“Why?”

“I… I thought that I was doing something... “

“Nice?” Haruhi offered.

“Yes.” Kyōya nodded. “I realize now, the value of this.” He reached out and touched the locket hanging from Haruhi’s hand. “I… I am... sorry.”

Haruhi sighed. “I am too.”

“For what?”

“For saying what I did and then running off.”

“Oh.” Kyōya pursed his lips. “Well… in some ways, I can see that you may be right.”

“What?”

Kyōya rubbed the back of his neck. “I can see how, to you and the majority of the world… the way I was raised is a bit… old fashioned.”

“But I still shouldn’t have said it.”

“And I shouldn’t have replaced your things without asking.”

They looked at each other and smiled. “So I guess we were both wrong?”

“I guess so.” Kyōya chuckled.  “Where did you go?”

“Oh…” Haruhi looked at her feet. “My mother’s grave.”

“That’s quite a ways.” He admitted.

“Yeah-ha.” Haruhi blushed.

“Next time, you’ll have to take me with you.”

“What?”

“I have yet to meet the lady. And I would like to.”

“Oh.” Haruhi smiled. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Only if it means that I am as well. And if you need more, I have flowers.”

Haruhi laughed. “You’re forgiven. Just don’t do it again please?”

“I promise.”

They smiled at each other.

And then the lights went out and the apartment shook and Haruhi froze.

Chapter Text

The necklace fell out of her hands. Her eyes widened. She audibly swallowed.

“Haruhi?” He bent down and picked up the necklace.

The lights flickered on before going out again with a new flash of light.

She squeaked, excused herself and ran into the bedroom.

“What?”

There was a crash of thunder, followed by a cry, then a slamming of a door.

“Haruhi?” He called out.

Nothing.

He went into the bedroom.

“Haruhi?” He called out again.

A flash of lightning prompted him to close the curtains.

Then the corresponding thunder rumbled and a muffled squeak came from Haruhi’s closet.

Then it hit him.

The thunder.

Haruhi was afraid.

So he grabbed the pillows and a blanket from the bed, a few flashlights from the kitchen, a handful of books for Haruhi, and his computer with the multiple battery packs he had for this type of situation.

He piled them all up in front of her closet and knocked on the door. “Haruhi?”

“I’m okay, Kyōya. I’ll get through it.”

“Are you afraid of the thunder?”

“I didn’t used to be…”

“But?”

“My mom died during a thunderstorm.”

“Oh…” Kyōya looked at the pile by his feet. “Can I come in? I have flashlights and blankets and pillows and books. Or I can get you water or headphones or-”

“Can you come in?”

“Of course.”

He pushed the pile inside the closet with his feet before turning on a flashlight and seeing her balled up and hiding under he sweaters. He placed a pillow behind her back and handed her another before placing one down to sit on and another to put behind his back. He pulled the blanket over them and cautiously wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m scared of snakes.” He admitted. “Once, when I was six and a half, my older brother placed a garden snake in my bed while I was asleep. I know it was harmless, but ever since then I can’t stand snakes.”

“I don’t like the feeling of losing my dad. Or you. Or Tachibana. He’s very kind to me.”

“I don’t like roaches.”

“I’m afraid of what power does to people.” She whispered.

Kyōya thought about it seriously before answering. The way they acted around each other at the beginning, the way she talked about his family. It all made sense now. It all fit. “Me too.”

And so he held her. He held her close when they were waiting for the thunder to come. He held her close when it did come, muffled her ears when the thunder hit particularly loud or long, squeezed when she shook.

He stayed.

And that was all Haruhi wanted right then.

When Tachibana entered the apartment, everything seemed different; lighter, cleaner, fresher somehow. It was like the very soul of the place had changed and been cleansed.

Haruhi’s shoes were scattered. The flowers were still in the little vase from the store. There was a drying puddle on the carpet, like something had spilled with a necklace in the middle of it.

But no one was around.

It was a Sunday. Usually Haruhi would be making breakfast, offer him some and just keep offering until he gave in. Then he would accompany her on errands while Kyōya worked.

But no one was around.

He knocked on the bedroom door.

No one there either.

A snore from the… closet?

He knocked lightly, then opened the door.

Haruhi was between Kyōya’s legs, his arms wrapped around her. They were curled up under her sweaters and what not.

The thing that he noticed most, was that Haruhi was sweating.

She was sick.

He picked them both up, placed them in the bed, and changed them into dry things. And then...

Well… they were just so cute.

So he took a picture.

It was wrong.

But he did it anyways.

And then he raided the fridge.

He would take care of these children. It was his job. And damn the world if he wouldn’t take care of them the best he could.

Chapter Text

After a short bout of sickness from being in the rain and a hectic week of preparing for and taking finals, Kyōya approaches a delicate subject.

“Haruhi, with break starting, I have friends from high school wanting to come over.”

“Okay. Tell me when and I can head to the library.”

“They want to meet you.” Kyōya informed her.

“Oh.” She shifted in place. “Then let me know how many are coming and when so I can go get things for dinner.”

“You don’t have to cook.”

“I want to.” She insisted.

“Alright. Just…” He sighed not knowing how to address the issue he wanted to raise.

“I won’t skimp on quality just for a good deal.” She promised. “You’ve had these friends since high school. I may value economy, and you may to some extent as well. But I’m sure they won’t appreciate the fact I got beef just cause it was on sale.”

There she goes… reading his mind again.

“Who are they?” She asked.

“The Ouran Host Club.”

“So no tea?” She smiled.

He resisted the urge to smile back. “Maybe tea.”

“Maybe tea.” She giggled.

Haruhi and Kyōya had pushed furniture aside and created an open space in their living room to make room for the six of them. Haruhi had made fried rice, and teriyaki chicken, and some thin sliced beef, with an assortment of vegetables, and steamed dumplings, with miso soup and other types of finger food on the side. She had made several types of cupcakes in a variety of flavors for everyone, and had sodas and teas and coffee all ready to be put on the table for when his friends got there.

She was nervous it would be too plain, a family style meal with sharing and self service, but Kyōya had assured her that his friends would love the idea.

The doorbell chimed as Haruhi picked up the steamer of vegetables to put in a bowl.

“I’ll get it.” Kyōya offered from his spot at the kitchen table. “You’re busy.”

“Thank you, Kyōya.” She sighed and went back to her tasks in the kitchen.

“MOMMY!”

She froze and looked at the door, confused as Kyōya shoved a blonde man outside.

Then she smiled.

“Karou!” She waved.

“Hello Haruhi.” He smiled back.

“Is Hikaru coming as well?”

“He’s helping Huni-senpai and Mori-senpai up the stairs with the cakes.” He sniffed the air as he came around the corner and into the kitchen. “Smells good.”

“I hope everyone is hungry…”

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” She called and looked after plating the dumplings. “Hikaru!”

“Hello, Haruhi.” He looked around the apartment. “Where should I put Huni-senpai’s cakes?”

“Do they need a fridge?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Then on the kitchen table please.” She pointed. “Let me just move Kyōya’s book. Kaoru, can you reach that dish on top of the cabinet? The white one?”

“Okay.”

She ran the book to his desk and hurried back to the kitchen.

Karou handed her the white bowl and smiled. “What goes into this one?”

“The miso.” She motioned to the covered pot of soup.

“Do you have a ladle?”

“In the drawer under the cups.”

“Do ya need help?” He offered.

“I have it.”

“We wanna help.” Hikaru threw an arm over his brother. “Get to know you better too! We haven’t ever really interacted even though we were in the same class for three years.”

“Well…” she eyed the counter full of dishes to take to the table. “The dishes with food on them can go to the table where we’ll eat.” She pointed to the table in the center of the room.

“Got it!” They smiled and took plates to the lazy susan.

“Hellooooooo?!”

“Huni-senpai.” Hikaru and Kaoru bowed with their things before moving on.

“Hika-chan! Kaou-chan! Whatcha doing?”

“We’re helping!” Kaoru smiled as he placed the dish of fried rice down.

“Help- Oh! Takashi, let me open the door for you!”

“Hello?” Haruhi looked out from the kitchen.

“Hello! You must be Haruhi! You can call me Huni! I was a year above Kyōya at Ouran. It’s nice to meet you.” The small blonde held out his hand.

“Abov- Hello. Hi. Yes. Nice to meet you.”

“Mitskuni.”

“This is Takashi. You can call him Mori though. Everyone does!”

“Hello.” She gave a little bow then heard a sizzle. “Crud!” She ran back to the kitchen and stirred the miso. “Safe.”

“Excuse me.”

She turned around and saw Mori standing in the kitchen. “Yes?”

He held up the massive pile of cakes.

“OH! Those can go with all the others.”

Kaoru came in and grabbed the plate of tempura.

Mori watched him, and Haruhi watched Mori, before Mori walked over and picked up the plate of steamed buns.

“You don’t have to-”

She was quieted with a head pat.

“Thanks.”

With three (four if you count Huni’s occasional help), the table was loaded in no time and Haruhi waited for Kyōya to come back from outside of the apartment.

“I think he was yelling at Tama-chan about manners.” Huni smiled. “Can we eat now?”

“Mitskuni.” Mori looked down at him.

“We can wait! That’s fine too!”

Finally Kyōya walked back in with the blonde from earlier and smiled. “This is Tamaki. He is in my year. I trust everyone has introduced themselves to my wife?”

They all nodded.

“Can we eat now?” Huni smiled.

“Sure.” Haruhi nodded. “Everyone find a seat.”

They arranged themselves around the table, Kyōya and Haruhi on the side facing Tamaki and Huni, Mori next to his cousin, and the twins across from Mori with Kaoru to Haruhi’s side and Hikaru to Tamaki’s.

“Everyone enjoy!”

“We’re serving ourselves?” Tamaki asked.

“This is family style. Kyōya mentioned that you were like a family in high school, I hope you don’t mind.” She smiled.

Mori reached forwards and grabbed some chicken, then from fried rice. “Mitsukuni, make sure you eat some vegetables.”

“Kay!” He reached forwards and filled his plate up too.

“What would you like, Kyōya?” She asked.

“I can serve myself.”

To anyone else it would seem like he was brushing her off, giving her the cold shoulder. But she could see the slight smile in his eye and hear the hidden warmth she ken he possessed.

“Would you like any of this beef?” He offered.

The entire table froze.

“Yes please.” She nodded.

He took her plate and placed some of the beef slices on it. She looked up at everyone frozen in place and froze herself.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kyōya…” Tamaki looked proudly across the table.

“What did you do to the shadow king?” Hikaru pointed his serving spoon at her.

“HIKARU!” Kaoru tried to chastise his brother.

And soon the table was loud and animated and lively.

“What just happened?” She leaned over.

Kyōya just smiled down at her. “Fried rice?”

Chapter Text

 “Here’s dessert.” She handed over boxes to people. “Custom for you.”

“Thanks.” Huni grabbed the box. “Oooo! Strawberry!”

“Yours are various mixtures of chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. Some of them are even Neapolitan. Some of them are filled.”

“Yay!”

“Mori-senpai, yours are various chocolate ones.”

“Mm.” He nodded.

“Tamaki-senpai, I have yours as lemon and blueberries.”

“Thank you!” He started gushing. She just started to tune it out.

“Hikaru, pistachio and chocolate.”

“How did you-”

“Kaoru, yours are made with almond flour and are almond and chocolate.”

“Thanks.” He took the box. “I love almonds.”

“And here you go.” She placed a box in front of Kyōya.

“What are these?” Kyōya asked.

“Coffee and bitter chocolate.”

“Thank you.” He opened the box and everyone dug in.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

“Haruhi?” Kyōya looked next to him. “Are your contacts bothering you?” He leaned in and whispered to her.

She nodded.

“Go change into your glasses. I can handle the boys.” He touched her shoulder.

“Thanks.” She nodded, tried to stand, and almost fell on top of Kyōya.

“Did you fall asleep in them?”

She nodded.

“You know that gives you migraines.”

“Sorry.” She whispered.

“Come on.” He stood and offered a hand. “Let's go put your glasses on.”

“But your friends-”

“Its okay.” Huni smiled. “Take care of yourself.”

She took his hand and let him help her to the bathroom. “I have your glasses, just take your time.”

She took one out and, after some effort, she got the other out.

“Here.” He handed her eye drops.

“Thanks.”

Then her glasses were placed on her face and she smiled at him. “Thanks.” She sighed.

“And here.” He placed two aspirin in her hand.

She just smiled and swallowed them down.

“I know you’re getting tired.” He smiled sadly. “So why don’t you just put the dishes on the counter and I will deal with them before I go to sleep.”

She nodded and left.

“Can I have your cups?” She smiled at the host club.

“Sure.” Kaoru handed her him and his brother’s cups. Mori handed his and Huni’s. She picked up the cups of hers and Kyōya’s. And Tamaki handed over his with some flirting.

“Thanks.” She pursed her lips and headed to the kitchen, dumping the cups and placing them in soapy water. Then she turned around and Tamaki was standing there, causing her to jump backwards and knock over a large bowl off the counter causing it to shatter.

“Haruhi?” Kyōya ran into the kitchen

She sniffled and buried her face in her hands.

“What happened.” Kyōya demanded. “What did you do?” He asked Tamaki.

“I just wanted to help!” Tamaki yelled.

Haruhi whimpered.

“Is your migraine not going away?” Kyōya diverted his attention back to her.

She nodded.

“Okay.” Kyōya sighed and walked over the pieces. “I’m going to clean this up and you’re going to go to bed.”

“Bu-”

“No. No buts.” Kyōya picked her up. “You are going to bed now.” He walked her to the bedroom door, and placed her down. “Go to sleep.”

She nodded.

“Good night.” He rubbed her back.

She nodded again.

And Kyōya closed the door. “What happened.” He demanded again.

“Tama-chan just wanted to help! So he went to ask. And then there was crashing.” Huni told him.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Tamaki smiled.

Kyōya just starred.

“Well, the Shadow King wouldn’t act like this if he didn’t like her.” Hikaru crossed his arms.

“You could’ve done worse.” Kaoru shrugged.

“Haru-chan is really sweet!” Huni added. “And a really good host.”

“She’s nice.” Mori put his two cents in.

Kyōya just headed to the kitchen, and bet to start picking up the pieces of the bowl.

“Let the maids do that.” Tamaki sighed.

“We don’t have a maid.” Kyōya looked up at his friends. “Haruhi and I do everything.”

“What?”

“First thing she did was cancel the maid and the cook. Said we could do it ourselves and save money.”

“But, how do-”

“Every Sunday we clean.”

“And the food?” Huni asked.

“Haruhi cooks most everything. I help when I can. She’s teaching me.” Kyōya threw the bowl away.

“Wait…” Hikaru stopped him from cleaning the cups.

“Did she cook dinner?” Kaoru finished.

“She’s been up since six, I think.” He turned back to the sink. “Now, I have to clean most of these.”

Mori came over and pointed at some of the dishes. “She’s already sorted. Those go to the dishwasher.”

“What?”

Mori pointed to the stack of plates. “Those go to the dishwasher,” he moved his finger to the serving bowls, “those can go into the dishwasher,” and then he pointed to the pots and pans and knives, “and those are hand wash.”

Everyone stared at him.

“I do dishes at home. Helps me think.” He shrugged.

“Ah.” Kyōya sighed.

“We’ll help!” Huni declared.

“What?” Kyōya looked at him.

“We can clean the tables and put stuff back in place and dry and put things away.” Huni smiled. “Haru-chan shouldn’t have to do it all tomorrow. I want to help.”

“The Shadow King cleans?” Kaoru laughed.

Kyōya silenced him with a glare.

“I’ll help with the dishes.” Mori rolled up his sleeves.

“Hika-chan and Kaou-chan can get the floors. And Tama-chan and I can clean the tables and put the furniture back.” Huni declared.

“YES! We shall do it like the commoners do!” Tamaki bloomed into full host mode and everyone sighed.

It took longer than it did with Haruhi, but Kyōya and the hosts got it done.

Then they were gone, and Kyōya went to get his computer.

And there she was, curled up into a ball under the blankets, holding onto a pillow.

She was so…

He sighed.

Fuck me. He sighed. In as… shit. He couldn’t think like that. He took a deep breath and grabbed his computer.

Time to work .

Chapter Text

“Haruhi, there’s going to be a dinner with my family tomorrow. They want us to join.” Kyōya told her as she came home from school.

She had her last final that day and starting monday, she would be starting her internship she had earned from her class with Kyōya.

“What am I supposed to wear?” She sighed.

“Cocktail dress? I’m not sure. A dress code was not specified.” Probably on purpose . But he wouldn’t tell her that.

“Then I’ll call Karou.” She smiled. “He knows my closet better than I do I think.”

Kyōya smiled. “Probably.”

It turns out a nice, minimalist, knee length black dress is good for any occasion. Paired with silver earrings and black kitten heels, Karou assured her that the outfit could do no wrong.

She and Kyōya showed up at the Ootori estate exactly in time and are greeted by the rest of his family.

“Haruhi, I hope my boy is treating you well.” His mother gives her a light hug.

“Very.” She smiles. “I wouldn't let him do otherwise.”

His mother and sister laughed, his father sent an amused smirk, the remaining four sent glares and snarls

It was an uncomfortable welcome.

And dinner was worse.

“Say, Haruhi ,” Yuuichi’s wife glared at her, “what discount brand is that dress.”

“It’s a Hitachiin, so I wouldn’t say it’s discount.” Haruhi looked up from her soup.

“And how did you get your hands on a Hitachiin?”

“They’re both friends from school. We were in the same class all three years of Ouran.”

“What did you have to do to get it, though?” She pushed.

Haruhi looked to Kyōya. “I don’t understand the question. I called Karou seeing as a dress code wasn’t specified and he sent the dress over. I didn’t do-”

“Aya means to imply you did a favor for the Hitachiins and they gave you the dress in return.” Kyōya snarled at his eldest brother’s wife.

“I mean, I did tutor Karou in world history and Hikaru in mathematics, but I don’t think that warrants a dress.” Haruhi shrugged.

“Why would you tutor them .” Akito eyed the girl.

“They were having trouble and I understood it.” Haruhi tilted her head with a smile. “Really, all it takes is the right explanation and anyone can understand advanced calculus.”

“Yes but-”

“If you mean what makes me qualified,” Haruhi put down her soup spoon, “I was the top of my class all three years of Ouran. I outscored Kyōya in my placement tests to college, and I hold the highest recorded score for a scholarship to Ouran Academy.” She pursed her lips. “I am not as unqualified as you think I am.”

She was not addressed again durning diner.

At least, until dessert.

“How come we have never seen any affection between the two of you?” Yuuichi draped an arm possessively over his wife.

“We do not believe in such blatant displays of marriage.” Kyōya’s lips twitched.

The truth was, the most they had ever done was she had kissed him on the cheek and he on her hand. And the other truth was he wanted to do so much more, his interest in Haruhi turning rapidly into a crush he could not control any longer.

“Come, show us that you’re affectionate with each other.” Yuuichi smirked.

“But dear,” Aya sneered, “she is quite plain.”

“That is true, but look at him. By youngest brother couldn’t even date one of the girls from that little club of his, so it’s no wonder-”

Kyōya was just as shocked as everyone else when he felt lips on his and a hand on each cheek.

His eyes closed and he let a hand fall to her waist.

It was chaste, and slow, and gentle, and (besides his wedding) his first kiss.

She pulled away silently, eyed the eldest sibling and his wife, and then picked up her fork and pierced a strawberry. “I assure you,” she brought the strawberry up to her lips, “Kyōya is more than satisfactory.” And she took a bite.

Kyōya just stared at her. Had she really just… and then implied that he… that they… oh God, what was he going to do now?

He swallowed and looked across the table, smiling when he saw the looks on his older siblings (minus his sister) staring at them with their eyes bulging out of their heads. He just smiled and went back to his miniature strawberry charlotte.

And then they broke the sexes for coffee and tea after dessert.

And Kyōya realized that Haruhi was right. What family breaks for coffee based on GENDER anymore? He sighed and sat in his favorite black leather lounge chair.

“Well, Haruhi ,” Aya’s false smile was quite gone now, “that was quite the show at dinner.”

“I could say the same about yours.” Haruhi eyed the woman and went over to her mother in law. “Would you like me to pour you tea or coffee?”

“Oh, Haruhi ,” Aya giggled, “we have servants to do that.”

“I would love some tea, Haruhi.” Her mother in law nodded. “And I think that offering to do something for an old lady is always the right thing to do.” She said with a posed look.

“What would you like in it?”

“A daughter should always know her mother in law’s drink preferences.” Aya sniffed.

“And what are they?” Mrs. Ootori raised a brow.

“Green. Plain.” Aya said confidently.

“Wrong.” Mrs. Ootori smiled. “I like black tea with a touch of milk and some sugar. A habit I picked up while studying in England in my youth.” She sighed fondly.

Haruhi made the tea and brought it over. “A coworker at the law firm I have my internship at drinks something called chai. It’s brewed in milk. I wonder if it taste similar. Apparently it can be quite spicy.”

“Oh, well I love spice. Maybe I’ll ask someone to make some for me at some point.” Mrs. Ootori sipped her tea. “Absolutely perfect, my dear.”

“Thank you.”

“I would make sense that someone from Haruhi ’s status would be good at making tea.” Aya smiled.

Haruhi just sipped her tea.

“You say you know the Hitachiins.” Akito’s wife Hanako smiled. “They have two sons I believe.”

“Yes, Hikaru and Kaoru.” Haruhi smiled.

“So informal.” Hanako sipped her tea.

“They’ve asked me to address them as such, so I see no issue.”

“You wouldn’t.” Another sip. “And to be so bold as to tutor them. They probably just asked to make you special. Oh!” She gasped at what she was saying. “Don’t feel bad about it. Boys do it all the time to gain a girls attention.”

“They did try. It didn’t work.” Haruhi ground out.

“Did they.” Aya smiled. “And just how did they try.”

“Aya,” Fuyumi sighed, “Hanako that’s enough.”

“I’m just trying to get to know my new little sister.” Hanako smiled.

“They followed me for six weeks before they grew bored.” Haruhi sipped her tea. “But Karou was the one who stopped first. Hikaru continued a week after his brother stopped trying to get my attention.”

“You’re so bold,” Aya smiled, “thinking you can tell the twins apart.”

“But I can.” Haruhi eyed the two women across from her over the rim of her tea cup. “It’s so very easy.”

“And which is the one do you think about when-”

“HANAKO. AYA.” Mrs. Ootori snapped. “That is more than enough. I cannot believe I let it go on so far.”

“It’s alright, ma’am,” Haruhi put her cup down. “After all, they’re just trying to get to know their little sister.” Haruhi smiled.

The room was quiet until the men came in. Husbands sat next to their wives, Kyōya joining Haruhi on the loveseat, and the smell of smoke filling the air. Haruhi couldn’t help it and let off a light cough.

“Is something the matter, little sister ?” Yuuichi smiled.

“There’s just quite a strong smell of smoke in the room that I wasn’t expecting. Apologies.” She reached forwards and took up her tea.

“Why a doctor smokes is beyond me.” Kyōya whispered to her.

“Now now, love birds,” Yuuichi tisked, “share your secrets.”

Haruhi eyed the man. “Kyōya was just telling me how much he missed me, big brother .” Then she took Kyōya’s hand and gave him a glance to the side.

Tamaki’s voice filled Kyōya’s head: never forget how effective a glance to the side can be . He had seen it work countless times before, inspiring love and jealousy and giggles. Never had he been on the receiving end. His opinions on the nature of the host club’s clients had improved some.

A throat cleared and attention was drawn away from them.

“You mentioned an internship.” Fuyumi smiled. “Where is it?”

“I have an internship under Professor Hijikata.”

“The same one Kyōya was offered?” Mr. Ootori asked.

“Yes.” Haruhi smiled.

“If her competency is in question, she beat my GPA in that class by .01 of a point.” Kyōya smiled.

“.0098.” Haruhi laughed. “Be precise. And I offered to help you write that final paper.” Haruhi poured him another cup of tea. “You said since we were at the exact same GPA you wanted to see who was better.”

“And it was you.”

“And it was me.” She stated proudly. It was a great braggin point for her among the Host Club. She had outsmarted the one who knew everything.

“You beat Kyōya’s GPA?” Mr. Ootori swallowed some tea. “That’s quite impressive.”

“Yes.” Yuuichi purred. “ What did you do to achieve it , I wonder.”

“Now you’re not even trying to be subtle.” Haruhi smiled. “At least you were trying before.”

“I think it’s time we end this little charade.” Mr. Ootori eyed his eldest son.

“Haruhi does have to be at the office early tomorrow.” Kyōya stood and offered his hand.

“It was a pleasure to see you all. Even the bitter jealous harpies and the envious jealous asses.” Haruhi smiled. “It was especially a pleasure to talk to you, Mrs. Ootori. Mr. Ootori.” She bowed. “Fuyumi, I will take you up on the shopping offer, but I do need to go, so have Kyōya give you my number.”

Fuyumi nodded.

“Why you little liar.” Aya snapped.

“That would imply that I have spoken a falsity and I do not engage in falsities.” Haruhi smiled.

“The car is waiting.” Kyōya looked at his watch. “Haruhi.” He took her hand and placed it in his arm and the two started to leave the room.

“Father are you not going to do something?” Yuuichi snapped.

“Watch your tone!” Mr. Ootori snapped. “And why would I. Nothing she has said has been wrong.”

The walk to the car was silent.

The ride home was silent.

Haruhi never even looked at him.

He just saw her set her jaw and swallow every now and then.

He would have to make sure he figured out exactly what was said to her while he wasn’t around.

The walk up to their apartment was silent.

Kyōya opened the door, Haruhi stepped in, started walking to the bedroom, then dropped everything and let out a heart wrenching sob.

Kyōya ran over and pulled her into his arms, maneuvering them to the sofa to sit them down. Tachibana followed behind, locking the apartment, collecting his keys, starting to warm some milk.

The whole time, Haruhi sat in his lap while he held her while her body shook with loud sobs.

Two cups of steaming hot chocolate were put in front of them.

“The sugar will be good for you.” Tachibana knelt in front of them. “Ms. Haruhi… Please drink.”

Her sobs calmed and she swallowed and sniffled and wiped her eyes. Kyōya handed her a mug with a warning about the temperature and Tachibana left the room.

“Haruhi…” Kyōya bit his lip. “Now is most definitely not the optimal time but if I don’t tell you I never will.”

“What?” Haruhi’s voice was scratchy and hoarse.

“I liked the kiss.” He blushed.

Since when was he a blusher. He made girls blush, not the other way around.

She sniffled again. “Me too.”

“I’m sorry for my family.”

“You are not your family.” She whispered back.

“Touche.” He whispered. “Can I get you anything?”

“I want…”

“Yes?”

“My mom.”

Oh.

The one thing he couldn’t get.

So he just held her closer and tucked her head under his chin and let her cry some more.

His brothers and their wives just made a very powerful enemy. Kyōya thought.

A very powerful and very. angry. enemy.

Chapter Text

Haruhi didn't realize it until it was too late. She had fallen in love with Kyōya.

It was a simple thought, really. She didn't know why people made it so complicated.

One day she woke up, rolled over to see Kyōya still asleep and thought: I love him.

That was it.

And it was the little things that she loved the most.

Kyōya, it turned out, was quite good at cooking once he learned how. So on days when the law firm kept her late, she would come home and there would be something on the table, be it actual dinner or a little thing like a sushi roll or homemade chips to tide her over till she was able to make a dent in her work when he would serve her dinner at her desk.

Or it would be his ability to tell when she had had a shit day. He would see her and just know. So he wouldn't ask how her how her day was or how it was progressing and wait till they were alone and he would wrap her in his arms and just hug her till the tension seemed to be alleviated until later that evening when he would run a bath for her with lavender and vanilla… her favorite.

Or the fact that not only did he walk her to class every morning regardless of if he had class or not, but he also helped her with the shopping of all sorts from redecorating their apartment (they both agreed the modern crap his father had picked out was cold and unwelcoming) to clothing to food to presents.

Or how he made sure that he would go with her to her mother's grave once a week, bringing flowers every time without prompting or fail. How he would address her mother, how he had someone keep the grave clean and we'll tended.

Or how Kyōya would play with his fingers when he was thinking something over. He would twiddle his thumbs until genius would strike and his fingers would be typing or writing away.

Or how he started an investment account for her father. The little bit of money that her father gave him every month to invest had now turned into a generous savings on the edge of a small fortune. And Kyōya had never taken advantage, he had never made a poor decision with it, never gambled too risky.

Or the way he had started drinking decaffeinated coffee and hot chocolate and English breakfast tea and looking after his own health.

Yes, Hauhi was in love with her husband.

And she couldn't do anything about it.

They were dating… at best!

They went out once a week, just the two of them, and they enjoyed their time together.

But it… was cold. Like he didn't like it.

And even though he said he liked the kiss, he had never done anything more than kiss her hand or cheek since that night MONTHS ago at his parents house.

She was tired of a one sided love.

But it was love.

And her parents had taught her that you stood by who you loved. Thick and thin. Young and old. When you hate them. When you want them. You stay with the ones you love till the very end of time.

And that was what she was going to do.

Even if every time he kissed her cheek she wanted to cry because it wasn't her lips.

Even if the smell of decaf and hot cocoa and English breakfast tea made her want to scream.

Even when her father told her he could retire now and live on the beach with his partner doing nothing for the rest of his life because of Kyōya and she wanted to punch something.

Even when she wanted to play with his fingers for him but instead caused crescent shaped indents in her hands from the fists she made.

Even when she was told about how dutifully she and her husband took such good care of her mom and she wanted to scream at the graveyard keeper.

Even though every walk made her day a little tougher.

Even though vanilla and lavender started to stress her out.

Even though she prayed for good days so she wouldn't have to deal with being so close and yet so far .

Even though some nights she would rather starve than have Kyōya cook for her.

Even though her love was making her want to cry.

She would stay.

She would stand by his side.

She would make him happy.

Because she loved him.

She loved him.

Even if he didn't love her back.

Chapter Text

“Kyōya, it’s so good to see you.”

Haruhi watched another young lady come up to them.

“And this must be your wife. How… nice .”

Kyōya smiled in that fake way she had come to recognize and started up a conversation.

The lady in front of them flashed a pearly smile and reached forwards, brushing her hand against his arm.

Haruhi grinded her teeth together and kept smiling.

Why was it so hard?

The lady laughed at something and stepped a little closer, and Haruhi noted he didn’t step back.

The lady teased her lip and leaned forwards, whispering something to the two of them like it was some big secret. It was just some gossip.

And it was obvious.

Haruhi released her lip and crossed her arms.

The lady made a comment about the cold. Kyōya smiled along with a comment about how he was envious of ladies in the summer and thankful to suits in the winter.

The lady rubbed his shoulder.

Haruhi dropped her hand.

Haruhi wanted him to take it.

The lady smiled and brought up the stock market. Kyōya engaged readily, not giving away any information, and playing her how he wanted. She absorbed the information, spat back data, engaged more and more, touching more and more, wanting more and more…

Haruhi sighed and bit her lip again.

Haruhi wanted him to take her hand.

To smile at her.

To push the lady away.

Haruhi wanted him.

But he didn’t want her.

Haruhi smiled.

Because it hurt even more not to. 

Chapter Text

Haruhi was walking to class when she heard it.

The bang.

She was walking to class when she saw it.

The stamped of student and teachers running.

She heard the words ‘gun’ and ‘Ootori’ and she ran to the wall, pulling out her phone.

She dialed Kyōya.

He didn’t pick up.

She dialed again.

Nothing.

Security pulled her out of the building.

She called again.

Silence.

She called again.

And again.

Again.

again.

Nothing.

The ambulance showed up.

No one came out.

She waited.

And waited.

Waited.

waited.

And then the police went in.

And took a man out.

She called again.

Nothing.

She called Tachibana.

Nothing.

So she waited.

And waited.

Waited.

waited.

And then Tachibana came out of the building.

She ran forwards.

“Ma’am.” He sighed.

She shook her head.

“He’s fine. I got there in time.”

She collapsed forwards onto his chest.

“I’ve got you.” He patted her back. “It’ll be okay. I’m sorry I didn’t answer.”

“Where is he?”

“Went with another guard out the back.”

She swallowed.

“He’ll be okay.”

“I love him.” She choked out.

“I know.”

“He didn’t get hurt?”

“No.”

She blinked back tears.

“You’re like my dad.” She blurted out.

“I’m honored to be considered on the same level as Ranka.” He laughed. “Thank you.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Let’s get you home.”

Did she have one of those?

He was sitting on the couch like nothing had happened.

“Hello Haruhi.”

She just stood there.

“I thought you had class.” He looked up from his laptop. “Are you feeling alright?”

She furrowed her brow.

“You look pale.” He walked over to her. “Did something happen?”

The next thing she knew his head was facing the other direction and his cheek was red.

“YOU ALMOST GOT SHOT!” She yelled, the tears she kept back now falling. “YOU ALMOST DIED! I called you! And you never answered! I needed to hear your voice and you didn’t answer! You didn’t even try to call me back! And you ask me if something happened!? I am your WIFE ! I need to know these things. And even if I wasn’t your wife, I’d like to think that you would respond to your friend who has called you more than a dozen times! I love you but, goddammit Kyōya you need to talk to me!” She turned on her heel and ran from the apartment, tears streaming down her face.

She wanted her mom.

But her mother in law would be nice too.

Kyōya’s face hurt.

She could hit hard.

She… loved him.

He looked at Tachibana.

“You deserved that.” Tachibana said.

Kyōya stared. She loved him?

“Do you even know how worried she was?”

Kyōya swallowed. She loved him.

“How much that girl cares about you?”

Kyōya smiled. He was loved !

“Kyōya Ootori! Are you listening to me!?” Tachibana yelled.

“She loves me, Tachibana.” Kyōya smiled.

“Yes. And she hit you and ran out of the apartment.”

His smile fell.

“Where did she go?”

“Hell if I know, I’m too busy worrying about whether you have a concussion or not with the way you’re acting!”

“I gotta find her.”

… … … … … … … … …

He couldn’t find her. She wasn’t at her father’s or her mother’s or the office or the library.

He was walking through the door when his phone wrang.

“Hello?” He picked it up frantically without checking who was calling.

“Kyōya it’s your mother. ”

“Hello.”

“Haruhi is here. She’ll be staying for a while.”

“Can I speak to her?”

“No. Wait for her. I’ll let her know you want to talk to her.”

“Tell her I’m sorry.”

“Alright.”

“And that,” he took a deep breath, “and that I care about her.”

Silence.

“I will.”

His mother’s voice was soft.

“Anything else?”

“I can’t wait till she comes home.”

“I’ll tell her. Be careful.”

And she hung up.

Damn… he swallowed the lump in his throat. He wanted Haruhi.

Chapter Text

Kyōya really hoped it wasn’t too late. He sat, the other members of the host club with him, as he sighed under the kotatsu.

“Kyo-chan, what happened?” Honey looked at him.

“I messed up.” Kyōya finally said out loud with another sigh. He had never said those words, in that order, out loud before. “I made a mistake.

“The Shadow King made a mistake?” Hikaru gasped.

“Not now.” Karou snapped. “This is serious, Hikaru. He’s finally realized that Haruhi is in love with him and he cares about her and she’s at his parents and refuses to talk to him.”

“Not to mention,” Mori spoke up, “that she’s been coming to the dojo for self defense training. On top of the training she already has, of course.”

“What?” Tamaki looked at the tall one. “My daughter-”

“Tamaki,” Kyōya growled, “that is my wife you are talking about, and she has asked you repeatedly not to call her that so do me a favor and just stop before I hurt you.”

Tamaki (blissfully) shut up.

“Well… what do you like about her?” Honey asked, wide eyed.

Kyōya stared at his senior, not sure what he meant.

“Kyo-chan, this is more or less like your first girlfriend!” Honey cried out, seemingly offended at the blank stare Kyōya was giving him. “We need to know what you like about her so we can help you!”

“Ye, yes, yes, mon ami!” Tamaki perked up. “The Host Club always helps those in need of our assistance, and you are in need of what we can provide!”

“So…” Hikaru leaned forwards.

“When did you fall in love with her?” Karou joined in.

Kyōya’s thoughts immediately went to one day. “When we had dinner with my parents for the first time after we were married. My brothers and their wives were horrible to her and…”

“No.” Mori shook his head.

“What?”

“That was when you knew you loved her. When did you fall in love with her?” Mori poured himself a cup of green tea, not even looking at Kyōya.

Kyōya thought. When did he fall in love with her?

He always thought she was pretty, even before the wedding.

He had remembered the first time they met, she had stumbled into Music Room 3, took one look at all of them extending a hand out to her, and promptly ran away. He had spent a week trying to figure out what boy she was until he realized that he was a she , and with contacts and a decent looking replica of the boys uniform, a very attractive one at that.

He always thought she was intelligent. She had to be, to be a scholarship student.

He always thought she was kind. The way she would make breakfast for him so he could sleep longer, the way she got him to cut back on the caffeine (he did have an addiction to it at one point, he would admit it now), the way she had somehow forced him to get some sleep every night. She cared about him.

She cared about him .

Not his name.

Not his wealth.

Not his status.

Him .

So when did he start to care for her ?

When did he , the cold and heartless Shadow King, fall in love with her ?

He had been so relieved when she had said she loved him. His first reaction was mirror the words back, to tell her he loved her too. But when had that happened? When had he fallen in love with her ?

Why couldn’t he figure it out!?

He gripped his tea cup and swallowed. Everyone was staring at him. For the first time, all eyes being on him bothered him. He loved her, but when had it started? How could he not answer this question.

Ring Ring.

“Ootori.” He picked up his phone blindly.

“We have your wife and her bodyguard. ”

His heart stopped.

“Here are our demands .”

Chapter Text

Kyōya was seething .

White hot fury burned through his veins.

How DARE they!?

That was his wife. His WIFE that they took.

The woman he loved. The woman he needed by his side.

At least, Tachibana was there, although probably drugged out of his mind and injured beyond what most people would be able to stand.

He sat, with the Host Club, in his father’s living room. His entire family was there.

“Tamaki,” he leaned over and whispered, “see where Casanova is at.”

Tamaki nodded and pulled out his phone.

“Hikaru, Karou, get ready for the trace.” He muttered.

They nodded and pulled out their gear.

“Mori, Honey-”

“Already waiting for the call.” Hikaru said darkly. “Honey said hurting his friends is a No No.” He growled. “They’re at the docks. We got lucky with the fog horn.”

Ranka was sitting next to him, the usually impeccably groomed man in a mess.

“Ranka,” his mother stood from her spot and took a seat next to his father in law, “everything will be fine. We’ll have her back.”

“How did they get to her?” He whispered.

“The security footage from outside the school shows that they were ambushed.” She sighed sadly. “We counted at least twenty men who came to get her.”

“And Tachibana? He’s with her, right? My daughter isn’t alone?”

“It looks that way.” His mother nodded.

Ranka nodded. “Then all we can do is wait.” He rubbed his eyes.

“Why don’t we go clear your thoughts in the garden.” His mother offered. “It might help to get some fresh air and move around. Talk about things that only a parent could really understand.”

Ranka swallowed and nodded. “Call for me as soon-”

“I will.” Kyōya nodded, not looking up from his phone. “Tamaki?”

“He says that it looks like the work of the Ice Lotus syndicate and his information points to it being one of three kidnappers in the group. He sent the information to you.” Tamaki sat down.

Kyōya finally looked up at his family. “If I find out you caused this-”

“Why would we-”

“Not you, sister.” Kyōya growled. “Them.” He spat.

His brothers and their wives were (for once) silent, Yuuichi looking the only of the group who was saddened by everything happening.

“Kyōya,” his father sighed, “you have to know there is a limit as to what I can do to get her back.”

The Host Club looked at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hikaru snapped.

“She’s a good girl, and I do have a fondness for her, but there’s only so much I’d be willing to give for her ransom.”

“WHY’S THAT?” Karou yelled.

“She’s only a commoner.” Aya sighed. “Why we’re waiting is beyond me. We had dinner reservations, right Yuiuichi?”

“Aya,” Yuuichi snapped, “shut up. Can’t you see that Kyōya’s worried sick about his wife.”

Kyōya, to be honest, was shocked that his eldest brother would say something like that.

“And father, anything you won’t give Kyōya, I’ll try to pay.”

“What?” Kyōya gapped.

“While she’s been here, I’ve realized that she’s a kind, intelligent girl. She’s a fundamentally good human being. She’s good for this family. She…” he laughed a single, dry, chuckle, “she chewed me up and spit me out and made me feel like scum of the earth for some of the things I’ve done and said. She’s worthy of having the Ootori name.”

“Yuuichi…” Kyōya whispered.

“I’m not going to say that I was wrong, because an Ootori is never wrong, but I will say my cautions were misplaced.” Yuuichi smiled. “I can see when my caution was for naught and man enough to admit it.”

“Then you can pay it all.” His father stood and moved to leave the room.

“You would dare to leave Haruhi to die.” Kyōya stood and glared at his father.

“You would dare to talk back to me?” His father snapped back.

The phone wrang.

“Ootori.” He picked it up.

“I want 10 million yen, a beach with good access for a freighter, and unlimited access to your main hospital.”

“And you’ll let Haruhi and Tachibana go?” Kyōya snapped.

“That’s just for your guard.” There was a laugh. “First I want her blood test back. See if she’s carrying a little whelp. Then I wanna know if she’s the wife to the Ootori heir. Then I wanna know what you’ll pay to get her back.” Another laugh. “Although… it was an arranged marriage. And you probably think your so high above her, you might just let me keep her.”

Karou gave a thumbs up, Tamaki sent a message, and Hikaru started typing furiously.

“Put my wife on the phone.” Kyōya growled out.

“How about speaker?” A beep.

“Kyōya?”

“Haruhi!”

Her voice was weak, there was some coughing in the background. “Tachibana is still alive.”

“And you?” He worried his lip between his teeth.

“I’m-

That’s enough.” A thud. “She’s alive. Your still on speaker. So, time for your dear little wifey to find out home much she’s worth.”

“I don’t know if I’m the heir and I’ll pay anything to get her back.”

“That’s a lot…”

“I’m getting my wife back.” Kyōya growled.

He got a thumbs up from Tamaki, with a mouthed ‘waiting’. Kyōya nodded and Tamaki texted the go order.

“And you’re wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Haruhi,” Kyōya sucked in his breath, “I’m bringing you home. And when I have you back I have something to tell you.”

“You talk to me, not her.”

“Haruhi get over to Tachibana and cover your head.”

“Are you listening to me?”

A bang, yelling, some curses, gun fire.

Glass shattering.

Kyōya’s stomach was in knots.

Silence.

More silence.

He noted Ranka and his mother by the window. When did they get back?

Silence.

Was this how Haruhi felt when I didn’t call?

“Kyōya.”

“Mori, what’s going on?” He demanded.

“Looks like she got knocked out. I’m bringing her and Tachibana to the hospital.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Kyōya shut the phone. “Yuuichi?”

“I’ll get my bag. What hospital?” He stood.

“YUUICHI!” Aya bemoaned.

“I’m a doctor and my little sister is hurt. I will be of some help somewhere to make up for all the shame I’ve brought to the family.” Yuuichi shrugged his wife off. “Things are changing, Aya. They must.”

“Meji Private Hospital.” Kyōya told him. “I bought it at the beginning of the school year.”

“I’ll meet you there.” He nodded and walked out of the room.

“Nice to know I’ll be the heir.” Akito smirked.

“You’re disowned.” His mother snapped. “Kyōya go. We’ll deal with things on this end.”

He thanked his mother, sent a pointed glare to his father, and left the room, the rest of the Host Club and Ranka following him.

His brother was right. Things were changing.

And Kyōya would change along with them. He had to.
For Haruhi.

Chapter Text

They were waiting, he was pacing, his mother was calming Ranka.

Things were falling apart.

Haruhi was unconscious.

Tachibana was in surgery.

Kyōya dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Yes, things were falling apart.

And he was scared.

She hadn’t heard him. She hadn’t made it to Tachibana. She didn’t know he wanted to tell her something important. She didn’t know he loved her...

He was so scared .

“Kyōya.”

Terrified.

“Kyōya!”

He swallowed. What if she didn’t wake up?

“Kyōya!” He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Tamaki.”

“She’ll wake up.” His friend promised.

“You can’t know that.” Kyōya shook his head. The club was looking at him. Why were they looking at him? Why wouldn’t they stop LOOKING at him!?

And then he had arms around him.

“My daughter is strong.”

“Ranka.”

“She’ll wake up. I promise you that.”

He hugged the man back.

When he was let go he saw his mother praying from her seat, his sister folding cranes, Hikaru and Karou curled against each other in the corner, Honey waiting for Mori to be patched up.

“Kyōya, you-”

“Yuuichi! How is she?”

“Not awake, but you can see her. I’m going to check on Tachibana. I know what he means to the two of you.” His brother patted him on the shoulder. “She should wake up soon.”

“Are you-”

“You’re my baby brother. I know I have never acted like you are, but that is the truth. I promised Haruhi yesterday that I would start treating you like you were my sibling and I intended to keep that promise. She will wake up.” Yuuichi crossed his arms.

“One day, I’ll know what she said to you.”

“And on that day you’ll know she made me cry and punched me in the stomach.” Yuuichi smiled. “I’m going to check on the surgery. Go see your wife.”

So here he was, standing in the doorway to a private room of the hospital, looking at his wife, looking at Haruhi, lying in a bed after being put in danger directly because she married him.

“Go, Kyōya.” Tamaki was behind him. “Say what you need to.”

Kyōya swallowed.

“You are my best friend.” Tamaki whispered. “You pushed and pulled and dragged me to do what must be done. Now is my turn to do the same for you.”

He was pushed into the room, and the door was closed behind him.

Kyōya swallowed again.

He must be thirsty. He should get a cup of coffee.

No. He stopped himself from turning around. No. not thirst. Scared.

He sat in the chair next to her bed and rubbed his face, his glasses being pushed up by the tips of his fingers and then falling over his hands. He stayed there, before sighing and pulling his hands from his face, taking her hand and opening his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I don’t know.” He bit his lip. Must be a new tell. “I don’t know what to say.”

They stayed in silence.

“I’m scared, Haruhi.” He admitted. “I’m so scared.”

A little moan came from the bed, a little squeeze on his hand.

She was waking up.

“I’m scared of snakes.” He reminded her.

Another squeeze.

“I detest roaches.”

A groan.

“I’m afraid that power will change me.”

Her eyelids twitched.

“I’m scared of losing you.”

“Kyōya?” She moaned.

“Open your eyes please?”

They fluttered open. “Kyōya?”

“Haruhi.” He squeezed her hand.

She winced.

“Sorry.” He let go of her hand some.

She shook her head and winced again. “Bright.” She whispered.

“Oh.” He jumped up and dimmed the lights. “Better?” He asked softly.

She nodded and winced.

“Please stop hurting yourself.” He took her hand again.

She smiled up at him. “Did you mean it?” Her voice was coming back, but was still so hoarse. “Were you really worried?”

“Haruhi, I was terrified .” He gave her hand a tight squeeze, just to make sure she was there. “I didn’t know if you were okay. I didn’t even know if you where I thought you were. I didn’t know if I would ever see you again. Tell you so many things I need to.” His voice stuck in his throat. It wouldn’t come out. He couldn’t make himself say anything.

Drip.

He blinked.

Sniff .

Blink.

Drip.

He felt water on his hand.

Blink.

Drip.

More water.

He was…

“Why are you crying, Kyōya?” Haruhi lifted her hand and brushed the tears away.

“I was so scared. And now I’m so relieved. And I don’t know what I’m feeling.” He shook his head. “It's a new experience, really.”

She coughed a laugh with a smile. It was probably a laugh . “Are you laughing at me?”

She just smiled bigger. “You said you had things to say.”

“I don’t even remember most of them. Something about using your self defence training and never letting you out of my sight and Tachibana will be fine and a littinay of apologies for various misdeeds I’ve done throughout my life like stealing your Christmas cookies because they were too good for me to stop eating them, and that I forgot to get your birthday present so it won’t get here in time, and for not calling you at school to let you know what happened, and not chasing after and I love you and I just want you to be safe and I’ve never rambled before in my entire life and have no idea how to stop and-”

“You love me?” Haruhi’s whisper cut him off.

Shit… did he just say that outloud?

He swallowed. “I have something important to tell you, Haruhi.”

Chapter Text

“You love me?” Haruhi’s whisper cut him off.

Shit… did he just say that outloud?

He swallowed. “I have something important to tell you, Haruhi.” Kyōya nodded. “I love you.”

“Really?"

“I can’t even figure out when I started. But I love you.” He smiled. “I love you.” He liked the sound of that. “I love you.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“Then why-”

“Because I’m an idiot.” Kyōya answered.

“I didn’t even ask a question.” She coughed a laugh out, but it sounded better.

“My answer is most likely still right.” Kyōya brushed her hair away from her face. “But ask your question.”

“Why haven’t you kissed me since the dinner?”

He smiled. “Because I’m and idiot.” He sighed. “I thought it was just for show. Or because you thought you had to like it. Or… I don’t really know.” She smiled up at him tiredly. “Everyone wants to see you.” Kyōya whispered. “They’re waiting outside.”

She nodded and winced. “What did I say about hurting yourself.”

“Sorry.” She blushed.

“I have more to say. And we have a lot to talk about. But maybe you should see everyone so they know you’re alright?”

“Okay."

He squeezed her hand. “Okay.”

“You’ll have to get up to go get them,Kyōya.” She laughed quietly.

“I’m a selfish human being, Haruhi. I want you to myself.” He didn’t let go of her hand.

“And you will. After.”

After, it turned out, was a lot later than he would have liked. And she was exhausted, so he told her to sleep. She tried to convince him to let them talk, but he was insistent, that the things he needed to say would be best if she was feeling better.

He almost missed her whispering for him to hold her, but he didn't and so he sat next to her and let her sleep with her head on his shoulder the entire night. Luckily, she had been given a pain killer that made her drowsy and she didn't have a nightmare. He was worried about that, that they would haunt her the same way that for a week, he remembered and dreamed of the college attack ending differently.

At two in the morning, a doctor came in and let him know Tachibana was fine, living without assistance. He asked if the two of them could share a room and, after much persuading, they agreed.

Kyōya had never seen Tachibana look so frail, laying in his bed looking more like his age than he should. He slipped off the bed and went to sit with Tachibana, taking Tachibana’s hand and just starting to thank him. He thanked Tachibana for saving him, for saving Haruhi, for keeping the two of them together, for keeping him fed and rested and alive. For treating him like a son.

He heard the door open and her little feet running into the room. Suddenly, there was a little girl next to him. A little girl, who looked just like Tachibana.

“Daddy?” She whispered, crawling carefully onto the chair next to Kyoya. “Is he gonna be okay?”

Kyoya looked at her and smiled. “Yes. Yes he is.”

“Momma doesn’t like you. She thinks you’re spoiled.” She stated.

“I probably am, having people like your dad and my wife to take care of me.” Kyoya admitted.

“Do you like my dad?”

“Yes. He’s amazing.” Kyoya smiled. “More of a dad to me then my own.”

The little girl sat and thought. “Why are you here?”

Kyoya sighed. “Some very bad people tried to take my wife. When your dad tried to stop them, they took him too.”

“Is she in the hospital too?” Kyoya looked over his shoulder, and Tachibana’s daughter followed his gaze. “She’s really pretty!”

“I know.” He smiled. "The prettiest, smartest, most amazing girl for me."

“Do you know if she has any family visiting?”

“Me.” He felt the girl’s stare. “She’s my wife. Her name is Haruhi.”

“Haruhi…” The girl hopped off the chair and walked over to Haruhi’s bed. “Ms. Haruhi,” she whispered, “you’re really pretty and I hope you feel better soon!” She came back over to Tachibana. “Do you think I would hurt him if I sat in bed with him? He always let me do it when I feel sick. Maybe I can help him feel better.”

“I’m sure if you’re careful it will be fine… let me help.” He picked her up carefully by the waist and set her on the bed. She carefully laid down next to her father and curled into his side before almost instantly falling asleep. He heard the door open again and turned to see Mrs. Tachibana coming into the room.

“Otoori.” She sighed, looking at her daughter.

“I'm sorry…” he bowed to her.

“You are in as much pain as I.” She came over to his side. “I tried so hard to hate you… but he just wants you to be happy, never shutting up about how proud he is of you.” She stood toe to toe with him, head only coming up to his shoulders. “He's a persistent man, my husband. Made me start being proud of you too.”

Kyoya swallowed. “I… He’s like a father to me. And I -”

“Have done nothing but make him proud.” She stopped him. “Is this Haruhi?” She stood next to her bed.

“Yes.” He felt the smile gracing his face.

“He wants Yui to be just like her when she grows up. Stubborn enough to take on an Ootori and brave enough to tell the tale.” She laughed. “You and Haruhi will join us for dinner on Monday nights. As part of the family.”

Kyoya stared at her. “But I’m not-”

“If there is one thing my husband can do, it’s finding the best characters to surround himself with.” She tucked blankets higher around Haruhi. “Now, you go shower, have someone bring you a change of clothes. You look like crap.”

“Momma said a bad word.” They heard a mumble from behind.

“Yes. And you’ll keep if from Daddy, won’t you?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good. Now…” Tachibana’s wife smiled up at him, “be a good boy and go shower. Or I’ll have one of your brother’s commit you and you’ll be doomed to sponge baths from hunky male nurses for the rest of your life.” And that is how Kyoya Ootori found himself in a hospital shower, a family richer and ready to tell his wife exactly how much he loved her.

Chapter Text

Kyoya often thinks back on that day that Haruhi came home from the hospital. She fought her way up the stairs, refusing any sort of help until she got to the top.
He just smiled and took her hand, moving her so they could tap into the building and get to the elevator.

When they got to the top, he pulled her close and kissed her, told her he would make them dinner, to leave everything to him. 

He still does that now, when he sees that she’s had a rough day, he draws her a bath, pulls her close, kisses her, and she now lets him handle everything until she’s taken a moment for herself. 

He thinks back to their talk, every time Yui runs up to Haruhi, now in college herself and following in the footsteps her father wanted her to. Haruhi laughed at how awkward he was explaining his emotions. He cried when she got down on one knee three days later and proposed, because he was sure that his heart - on - sleeve confession would have scared her off.

He doesn’t cry anymore when she tells him that she's his - that she loves him. Because he knows now that his father was wrong - he deserves every ounce of love and respect that Haruhi gives him.

He thinks back to the day she told him she was pregnant with their daughter, now six years old and taking after Mori of all people. He remembers staring at the little hat, knitted in pale rainbow yarn, and asking her if it shrunk. He never expected that little Chizu would stand next to him in the kitchen watching him cut strawberries for french toast, or ask if she could have extra lessons with Tachibana.
And the day Haruhi put Chizu in a shirt that said “I’m the oldest”, Kyoya remembers spinning her around and around until they were both dizzy. Now Hiroki, at three, was starting to say “again” when Haruhi would tell him about the princess who fell in love with the prince she was forced to marry and how Hiroki would sit on Kyoya’s lap when he brought work home and read his massive stacks of books.

He doesn’t wake up at three in the morning anymore and check to see that Haruhi is still there, that their family is not a dream.

He doesn’t regret buying the company out from under his father, letting both his brothers sleep on their couch during their divorces, or handing part of the company over to his sister.

He doesn’t regret moving into a house with Haruhi’s father, helping take care of the only member of Haruhi’s family that she has left.

He doesn’t regret anything.

Especially as he remembered watching his wife walk down the aisle, in her simple wedding dress that still hung in their closet.

Happily ever afters aren't perfect , he would remind Chizu and Hiroki every time they had a fairy tale, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth it . 

He would look back at his time at Ouran and kick himself, because she was right there the entire time, if he had just bothered to look.

He told Haruhi that once and she looked at him like he was crazy,

“If I had met you at Ouran, you would have thought I was nothing more than a commoner to utilize.” She sighed.

“Maybe. But think of how much fun we could have had.” He scrambled for an answer.

“You would have had fun,” she put some whipped cream meant for Chizu’s birthday cake on his nose, “I would have thought you were a rich bastard.”

To which Kyoya had no objection.

Yes , Kyoya thought, my happily ever after isn’t perfect. But it’s mine…

and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.