Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Co-mmm-iiing” came the irritated, clear, almost-tenor reply.

“She doesn’t listen to me at all, or she would be a little more excited about something like this,” thought her redheaded father as he set the mysterious item on their small table.

Oh, and when will she start using her natural voice? At this rate no one will ever know she’s a girl! The irony of this thought was entirely lost on the gorgeous redhead who effortlessly arranged the last details of breakfast for his daughter and settled his mouthwateringly feminine self down to wait, a bit of hip-shifting as he relaxed emphasized his allure to the empty room.

With a deliberate flick of one perfect stray curl (left loose for this very purpose) he turned reluctantly from the mysterious delivery with a sigh. The time had long passed that he could get away with opening and resealing anything sent to her. Another trial of having a gifted child.

Could this be an important dispatch from that charming Kyoya? Despite himself, unconsciously he did a short sexy dip, lowering his chest and bringing one shoulder back before he caught himself.

This boy was young enough to be his son. Too bad that voice and intellect sounded like a peer, Ranka thought. His cheeks flushed with discomfort, not excitement, but it didn’t matter. His make-up covered it at all.

Being older is such a joy, yes? No, he answered the churlish inner voice. A deep ache for Kotoko’s presence filled him, and nascent tears threatened his eyeliner, but he took a deep breath, as he had for years of silent grieving, and summoned a perfectly lipsticked smile for their precious child.

Haruhi finally made her appearance. Ignoring the package, she made a beeline for breakfast. It took all of Ranka’s control to avoid mentioning the exciting delivery.

“Thanks, Dad!” she cried, grabbing the unopened package and slipping it into her satchel with no comment. Ranka knew better to say a word as he watched his daughter, perfectly clad as a well-to-do male student at Ouran Academy, run for the door.

Something was up, that was sure. As usual, all he could do was wait … or text Kyoya. Hmmm.
………

Elsewhere, dreamy Kyoya was just reluctantly shaking away sleep when he heard Ranka’s alert tone ring out. He felt ill. Something was wrong.

He had missed something he thought frantically as he grabbed for his phone. Something had been bothering him, but all he could do was think of his boyfriend. His personal idiot, who had known what Kyoya felt and stayed quiet. That torture was over, and he could barely keep his mind on a single task.

Even his mobile wasn’t where it belonged! Clothes were everywhere. Oh, gods, Fuyumi, what you have you done now? He threw clothes over the balcony in his haste, but grabbed the phone, daze-dropped last night. Panting and pale, he saw the text.

No.

Of all his fears, this had not even registered.
____________

No Hope Now, The Lady is A Liar

I.
This was a long day but one
My heart had won
And I was glad of it, glad of every aching moment
Of anticipation, of seeing her
I had once thought myself courageous, but the Shadow King
Showed me another face of bravery
Of decency—
I was not slow to learn.

And I, the elder, should I call myself a coward
After all those words of love I left to chance
Words, which dangerously I admit,
Brought Tamaki and Kyoya romance

Poetry and plots
May have done some good, but not for me

I was glad for them,
Relieved even, that this long wait was resolved in my sight—
Lucky or unlucky after this, at least they knew

It would be untrue to say
I had not wished my love poetry to meet its mark
That bird in the wind
That song in my heart.

II.
When I woke before the dawn
Like each morning before it
This time something was different.

I knew.

Today.
Just, today.

I smiled through each move
As the sun rose,
Barely managed meditation.

Not much more of a wait,
Though she would have
No quick answers

Except maybe
to a date?

Why did I frighten myself?

Was our promise,
My failing, the fall, to stop
It all?

No.

I can leave that
In the stronghold of the past
Keeper of sweet secrets.

III.
She is ...
For once the pen has no words.

Decision made,
I find that missing calm returns.
One day of classes
Not so long at all.

____________

Mitskuni giggled happily when I said I needed to go to the club early, alone. He didn’t ask a thing; he didn’t need to. I had been drifting the entire day, finding faint smiles at lips’ edge, or a scrap of melody in my throat.

I knew she would be there. I flung the door open like Tamaki in full swing, surprising myself with a smile.

She did not look up.

Something had changed. Her movement was awkward, but worse, her eyes darted over my face, not meeting mine.

“Hi, Mori-Senpai, you’re early today!” her voice rang out
In her best Cheerful Host style.

I looked down again, carefully, letting her look at me, just me, early.
____________
IV.
The grin clinched it.
Even before she spoke again, higher pitched and stilted, straight from a Host script,
I knew.

That grin, once the highlight of my days,
So natural
Outshining the glimmer of club charisma
With a faint blush, so much part of her charm—
Was gone.

This was counterfeit.

“Yeah,” I answered,
I was early.
Still
Despite this act
I sat next to her.

We were not alone
And that was right
Mother-not-Mother
Was a fitting chaperone
Lost in his phone

“Haruhi.”

She was not startled when I used her name,
How
Who
She knew.

I was puppet, cut-strings
Barely leaning upright.

Today, it was today and I had to let this dream fly
I tried again, searching the brown eyes
Which had melted me night after night
But again they ran from me.

“Haruhi.”

“Senpai?”
That cheery smile made me wonder
While my heart
Did strange, sharp things in my ribcage
How she had ever fooled
A single guest.

She gave me, me
The disingenuous grin, that
Cultivated dimple

There was nothing to say
To the girl she had erased.

The words were gone.

V.
I stared at the wall.

Someone was panicking behind me.

Haruhi went back to a textbook.

Any other day she would have been at me,
Looking for answers.

Kyoya tapped my shoulder,
Politely
Inviting me
Away from her.

When I followed that immaculate back
Mindlessly
I wondered if
This was what his mercy looked like.

The back of him.

It was an unkind thought.

VI.
My shepherd took me
Past the kitchen

To the over-full room
Of props

Where he swiftly closed the door
Locking us in

So strange a move that I
Had both of his wrists in my grasp, hoisting him
Without a second thought.

He did not fight.

He shook.

Mumbled over and over

Sorry?
His sister?

Why was he weeping?

I set him gently down, ashamed

I might hurt him,
No guardian today.

Had he
Only just noticed
Tamaki’s girls?

He was still on the floor, crying
Like an unjustly punished child.

I knelt, broken as I was, and asked
If he needed me
His arms flew forward, an alarming embrace
Was his mind amiss?
Head crushed into
My shoulder

I understood the word “betrayal”
Said into my side

“Shh”
I whispered
“Shh”
As if comforting myself.
____________

Eternity passed in the prop room.

So, she knew everything—
Chose to lie, to act
As if things could ever
Be the same

After I came to her, confession behind my smile
After I came to her
Words finally waiting,

After I said her name.

She smiled (first falsehood)
She said nothing

Of those poems (omission)
That arrived by post.

And so she left me
Before I was there.