Beta by dark mirth. She makes this story readable, baby! XD
Kyoya is a very intelligent person.
He graduated from the Ouran Institute's High School division with the top honours, ditto for University. He also received his MBA from Harvard University, and for once, his father was there as he accepted it at the podium. He managed to inherit the Ootori zaibatsu at the tender age of twenty-eight, and three years later, has taken it further than his father had ever dreamed.
He had never seen his father so proud.
But Kyoya knew that it wasn't what he really wanted for himself after all.
Maybe it was some form of rebellion on Kyoya's part, to do what his father had been pushing him to do all these years, and then watch it blow up in his face in the end. But Kyoya resisted the urge to do that. He took the intelligent way out of it.
He proved himself better than his father instead.
Kyoya liked puzzles; challenges, he claimed, helped keep the brain growing. So he let himself indulge in them from time to time. The harder, the better. He supposed that it all stemmed from his long-lived love for mystery books, starting with the Hardy Boys that his brother had passed on to him (to help with his English, Akira had claimed) and he even went through Nancy Drew though it was a secret that he would take to his grave.
His great intellect allowed him to solve most mysteries within twenty-four hours. More than that and he would consider it quite unsolvable or decide that it was time to bring out the big guns--i.e. mobilize his large network until he got what he wanted.
So Kyoya did the latter for his latest, greatest conundrum.
And what he found shocked him to his bones.
When Haruhi opened the door that fateful morning, Kyoya was expecting something else. More along the lines that she was dying and what she did was a last request of sorts.
He certainly wasn't prepared to see her like that--pregnant.
And he was ninety percent sure that it was his.
Kyoya never knew that it was her when he took her that night. He thought that she was just some whore the twins had delivered for his enjoyment. So he let himself go, let himself fantasize that it was actually somebody he cared about in his arms and not a faceless, nameless bimbo picked up off the streets.
He wasn't really surprised when he woke up in the morning and saw that she wasn't there. Her spot on the bed was cold, so she had gone long before he awakened to the sunlight filtering through the dark curtains. He figured that she thought that she had done her job already and she was not needed anymore.
He continued to lay on the bed, unable to help himself from recapping what had happened the night before. He had had sex before, but that had been…that had been simply amazing. He'd gone so far as to rate it as the best he'd ever had.
Despite the risk of sounding lewd, she had been his first virgin as well.
Now that, he found weird. He had never employed prostitutes before, so he was unsure of what really happened during paid sex. From the books he'd read, it was supposed to be a 'Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am' situation. But it hadn't been like that. And as someone who wanted to make her living selling her body, shouldn't she have acted more docile towards him? Like, obey his every whim and fantasy?
She had fought against him valiantly, and threatened to go when he dared tease her.
However, that one Kyoya chalked up to nervousness.
There were a lot of contradictions in her nature, so Kyoya just sighed and decided that coffee was his biggest need at the moment. After that was taken care of he could continue to psychoanalyze his one-night-stand.
After two fortifying cups of coffee, a bran muffin, and thirty minutes on the treadmill, Kyoya pronounced himself fully awake and ready for the world. The first thing he did after a nice hot shower was to open his laptop and check for new e-mails concerning his business. He had fifty new messages the last hour alone and he began to sort out which were trash and which were worthy of his time and attention.
He hadn't gotten far, just about the hundred and twentieth, when his mobile vibrated in his pocket.
"Ootori here," he said.
"Where the hell are you?" boomed the voice of his secretary, Azusa. She was a real spitfire, and never quelled under any type of pressure, even under his glare. She was his right and left hand, always there when he needed her. She had never made a mistake before and Kyoya felt justified paying her at least double what he paid his own executives. In all truth, without her, he'd still be swimming in files and administrative shit he didn't particularly care for.
"Um, hiding from the clutches of an evil witch?" said Kyoya sardonically, typing out the first document that needed doing, "Will you please help me from my ivory tower?"
"Ootori Kyoya!" screamed the fifty four-year-old from the other line. She was the only person in the whole world who could get away with screaming at Kyoya. Even his father had never yelled at him before. She acted like a mother hen around him, but that was only because she claimed that Kyoya could be trusted to run a billion-dollar company but could not be trusted to look after himself.
Of course, it didn't help Kyoya that Azusa's children were all grown up and had left the nest, leaving the woman without anybody to take care of. Nevertheless, Kyoya would always be grateful to her, no matter how much he protested against her maternal attentions.
"Will you tell me where in nine hells you took off to?"
"I think I just passed the seventh gate," replied Kyoya seriously, "So let's talk while we can. They said that there's no reception on the ninth."
The woman sighed on the other end. "You're avoiding the issue. And anyway, that bird is gone; I took care of it."
Kyoya suddenly felt sorry for Anne--who knows what Azusa had done to make her leave?
"What did you do? Wait, you know what, I don't really want to know." Kyoya shook his head and turned back most of his attention to his spreadsheets.
"Like you really care," scoffed Azusa, "Anyway, I need you to go over the Ibarashi deal, and look closely at sections five and seventy-three. They think they can skirt over those loopholes? Well, they haven't met me!"
"Yes, the world of business is shaking in their Gucci loafers at that announcement."
"Shut up, you ingrate. Sarcasm does not suit you. When will you come back?" she snapped, clearly irritated. Hadn't the woman gone through menopause already?
"By tonight, if you really are sure that Anne is gone. Goodness knows I can't face more of her harping about us getting married. We had a one-night stand; I was drunk; she was baked. And she expected a relationship to blossom out of that? What is she, Merlin?" His voice was more than incredulous and slightly disdainful.
"It was your fault. I told you to lay off the scotch. Then get a good girl who can stand being in your presence for more than five minutes without bursting into tears, marry her, and have her squeeze out a couple of kids so she's tied to you forever." Kyoya could hear Azusa stomping along what he could only envision as the corridors of his office building, her sensible heels making soft clacking noises against the marble.
"And this comes from the formidable lady who literally kicked her husband to the curb when he, as she claims it, became a 'huge, fat, lazy slob of no use'. Great advice, really." Kyoya wanted to get back to his work, really, and not waste any more time with the seemingly pointless conversation. What did Azusa really want?
"Well, that bastard deserved it. I was heavily pregnant, and his only concern was when he'd get his next beer. He made a severely hormonal woman pissed. Now he's faced the consequences." She paused. "I have an idea, why not try Haruhi? She's nice; she's a top barrister, and unattached as far as I know." She sounded eager--too eager.
"Azusa, please stop it. I don't need a woman right now. And Haruhi is the last one I'd ever consider dating outside of a friendly lunch. I am hurt, though, that you think no woman can stand me. I was a host in high school, you know. I'm still quite good at it. How do you think I managed to pull off the Kaiser deal?" He saved the document he finished and moved on to a new one, trying to think on how he could possibly write off his absence to his father.
"Please. The girl was drugged most of the time. Couldn't tell the difference between a man and a monkey. As long as it could screw her, she was game…did you even screw her? Oh, and I almost forgot, your father is searching for you, asking if you're meeting him for that luncheon with the Yamanaka group."
"How vulgar. No, I did not. I just got her to ask Daddy as sweetly as she could to sign the documents. That's all. I'm not interested in getting any STDs, thank you very much. And yes, I'll be coming, please tell my father that."
"Well, better get home, then. There's only so much more I can do to hold off the fire before it starts on the rest of the forest."
But when Kyoya put down the phone, a thoughtful look spread across his face.
Maybe he could find a roundabout way to know about the girl, without asking the twins about it.
A few hours later, when he was preparing to go back to Tokyo, he did a final check of the house to see if he had left anything.
Wedged on the side of the cushion of the armchair in his room was a crumpled piece of paper, a receipt to be precise.
It was for a bottle of water and a pack of seaweed biscuits.
It was dated the day before, and paid for by card.
By one Fujioka Haruhi.
He had slept with Haruhi last night.
He had made love to Haruhi three times.
He had thought Haruhi was a hooker.
He had liked pounding Haruhi to the mattress.
The reality of what he just discovered came crashing to his head like a truck.
Kyoya nearly fainted.
And he had wanted to sleep with Haruhi again.
Tamaki is gutting me alive, he thought with slight annoyance.
Kyoya had Haruhi monitored for days after that, and after two days, he was familiar with her routine. She would leave her apartment at precisely seven a.m. for her office in the greater Tokyo area, and wouldn't go home until late—sometimes not at all. She would sometimes pick up some takeaway or cook at home, or most of the time forgo eating and just sleep. She rarely had days off, and if she did, she would still be holed up at home with her case files.
She was even more of a workaholic than he, he had realized with an amused smile.
However, her activities changed drastically after a few weeks. She had been acting more carefully. Instead of the brisk power-walking she naturally used, especially when running after the next train, she had begun walking slowly, carefully, and even taken the time to wake up earlier than usual. Her work decreased, and she was eating healthier. No more of those fatty takeaways--she regularly cooked her own meals.
At first, Kyoya thought that she must have had some scare about her health, and, after a month of having her monitored, he withdrew, thinking with the tiniest disappointment that she didn't even know that it was him with whom she had slept.
So why did she sleep with him? She had mentioned something about it being 'his' job, whoever she thought 'him' to be. That brought fresh questions to Kyoya's mind.
Who was she expecting 'him' to be? He didn't care for Haruhi enough (or in that way) to be jealous about with whom she should be sleeping. But he did wonder--a lot. She was a precious friend, and he was rather worried that Haruhi would set herself up like that.
She wasn't drunk, and certainly not under the influence of anything.
It was one question that Kyoya, for all his brilliance, could not answer.
He got his answer, though, when he learned of Haruhi's absence more than a week after she had asked for a sabbatical from her bosses. Kyoya naturally kept tabs on all members of the defunct Host Club--especially Haruhi as he found it easy to sell her information to the other members--but it was surprising that he had learned of it that late. His network reached long and deep, in a manner of speaking, and there was nary a thing in the world he could not learn about in a matter of seconds should he care for the information.
It seemed that there was something way more at work here.
Kyoya researched, and found that Haruhi was staying in Misuzu's pension as the temporary caretaker. He breathed a sigh of relief, and resolved to keep at least a week's report on her current situation.
However, after a few months, Tamaki, Hunny, Mori, Hikaru and Kaoru all contacted him. They could not get in touch with Haruhi.
He was surprised, and talked to his man in Karuizawa. He said that nothing had changed with Fujioka--and yeah, she appears to be gaining weight.
Unable to keep his curiosity in check, he opted to call all the other members to make a surprise visit to Haruhi. He could not visit her alone. It was strange and she would most likely think that he was up to something.
And when Haruhi opened that door, he nearly fainted. He saw the swollen ankles, the distinct 'mask of pregnancy', the drawn look on her face, and the roundedness of her belly.
She was fucking pregnant.
He was so surprised, there were different emotions rushing through his head faster than he could process them. He barely even reacted when Hikaru threw that hissy fit and ran off. He only deemed himself calm enough to speak rationally when Haruhi was throwing them out.
Nevertheless, the only lingering thought in his brain was that Haruhi's child was probably his. True, he had only slept with her for one night, but what were the chances of Haruhi sleeping with another man after that? His spy never reported anything of her going out with other men. She had had lunch and dinner dates but it was with clients and her gay secretary and nothing more.
The child was his. He was so sure of it.
He was going to be a father.
And Kyoya knew that he had never been happier.
"Haruhi, we're out of cinnamon sticks," said Kyoya one afternoon as he rummaged through the kitchen cupboards.
Haruhi raised an eyebrow at her new tenant.
"What do you need cinnamon for?" she asked.
"I want some of it in my hot chocolate," he explained, pointing at a cup of steaming hot cocoa.
Haruhi had to wonder at that. Kyoya and chocolate didn't go together. Then her hormonal mind brought up an image of Kyoya and chocolate going very well together. She blushed to the roots of her hair and banished the thought, trying to keep her emotions in check.
It was only the hormones speaking, after all. She certainly did not lust after Ootori Kyoya. Nope, it was downright impossible.
His fingers tracing patterns on her skin as his hot mouth pressed delicate kisses on her body….
Damn, she was even replaying their night together in her head!
She clutched the side of the counter to regain her balance as she breathed heavily through her nose.
"Haruhi?" asked Kyoya, clearly concerned. It was strange that she would just blank out like that and then look as if she were hyperventilating.
Crap, the baby!
"Haruhi, is something wrong? Is the baby okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?" He was getting flustered and his cool mask was slowly slipping off. He was about to reach for the phone in his pocket to call for a taxi when Haruhi stopped him.
"No, no, I'm fine," she said, sitting down on a stool, her face still red. "Just having some hot flashes, that's all." She finally looked up at him. "If you need cinnamon, wait a minute. I'm going to the grocery anyway and picking up some more stuff."
"I'm coming with you," Kyoya responded automatically.
"What? No need. I can take care of everything by myself and I won't be that long." She brushed off some imaginary dust from her shorts and stood up, clearly dismissing the offer.
"No, I insist. I can even carry your things for you." He noticed her silent distress.
"Look, I'm going to the town anyway. I ran out of some of my necessities." He smiled. "Of course, my services don't exactly come free, and as your chaperone, I think I'm due some compensation."
"But, just this once, I'm willing to make an exception," he cut her off, still smiling. He pulled her to her feet and she scowled at him. "Go on, get dressed and I'll meet you outside in five minutes."
Haruhi didn't really protest when he pushed her to the stairs so she could change from the baggy t-shirt she was wearing.
"Freaking manipulator…" she hissed which did not go unnoticed by him.
He just smiled.
Haruhi chose to wear a baby blue soft cotton blouse that left a lot of room for her bulging belly, paired with cream cotton trousers and cloth slippers. Her face was carefully made up but with minimal cosmetics: just a hint of eye-shadow and lip gloss. She had always been mistaken for younger than her age, and it wouldn't do for her to go trouncing around the town square looking like a pregnant teenager.
Kyoya was waiting for her on the front porch, looking very smart casual in his cream pants and blue shirt. Haruhi had to laugh at how similar their clothes were. It was as if they were in 'his and hers' mode.
Kyoya looked at her strangely, wondering what she was sniggering about. Then he realized their clothing matched.
"What an odd coincidence," he just said, "I'll go and change."
Haruhi grabbed his arm before he could go back inside.
"No," she said, choking on her laughter, "This is actually quite amusing." She pulled him outside the white picket fence and into the road. They walked their way to the square and Haruhi let go of his arm.
"Amusing?" asked Kyoya, "How so?"
"Well, when I first came here, I wasn't as horribly, er, showing as I am now," she explained, "So I was able to hide my pregnancy really well. Then I started to show a few weeks ago, and tongues started to wag." She rolled her eyes. "They asked who the father was and everything."
Kyoya's heart thumped in his chest. "Who did you say was the father?"
The smile on Haruhi's face faltered. "Um, I told them that I had a boyfriend and we were supposed to get married. But I found out that he was having an affair with another girl. I broke it off days before I discovered that I was pregnant. Unwilling to go through more emotional trauma, I escaped here and planned to deliver my baby and then just live quietly without the father knowing anything."
She grinned at his dumbstruck expression. "They were pretty sympathetic about my plight after that. I received lots of gifts from my neighbours and some would come to the pension just to check up on me. They were pretty nice."
"All I can say is that if you ever think of leaving your old job, you could work as a writer," said Kyoya. "You certainly have the imagination for it."
Haruhi giggled. "I just stole it from some of the romance manga Renge's been pressing me to read since forever."
Kyoya shook his head. "Well, at least you're saved from the wrath of the insatiable gossips here."
They arrived at the town square, where Haruhi was greeted by some of the store keepers as they walked past different shops.
The trip to the grocery was short, as they only needed a few things including some cinnamon for Kyoya.
At Kyoya's request, they also made for the bookstore, where he bought several different novels--all from the crime category--while Haruhi picked up some more baby books. One thick book, however, got Kyoya's attention.
"Baby names?" he asked.
Haruhi nodded. "I'm compiling a list of some of the names I want and it's still pretty short."
"You don't know the baby's gender? Haven't you had an ultrasound yet?"
"Yes, I had one a few weeks ago, but just to check if it's healthy and all. I refused to know whether it was a boy or girl. I actually want to be surprised about it."
"That's nice," he said, shrugging off the disappointment in his chest. He dearly wanted to just drop the ignorant act and shout to the whole town that it was his baby in Haruhi's belly and demand that he be consulted about the baby's name as well.
But it wasn't time yet. There were other things he needed to do first.
They paid for their books, Kyoya carrying most of their items with him. Haruhi nearly argued but there was a glint in his eyes that brooked no room for argument. So she just sighed and let him go on with his machismo act.
When they were about to go home, a lady stopped Haruhi in the middle of the street.
"Hello, my dear," greeted the old woman, nodding at her happily, "How are you?"
"Very well, thank you Mrs. Nagasaki," answered Haruhi politely, "How about you?"
"I'm doing well as well, thank you for asking," said Mrs. Nagasaki, nodding her head to Haruhi's stomach, "How far are you along now?"
"Five months, and I'm still getting morning sickness," Haruhi lightly complained.
Mrs. Nagasaki nodded.
"It comes and goes dear, just be patient." She looked up at Kyoya. "Oh my, are you the father of her child?"
Kyoya's eyes widened but he dared not react more. Haruhi, however, seemed to choke on air.
"No, no," she protested a bit too strongly, "He's just a friend who's been visiting and helping me a lot with the pension. That's all."
But as the two ladies chatted on, neither noticed the dark look that passed over Kyoya's face.
"Kyoya, when did you start liking sweets?" asked Haruhi as she watched the man prepare himself a fresh cup now that he had his precious cinnamon to go with it.
"I never did," he replied, though his tone was curt. Haruhi had to wonder at that. Did something piss him off when she wasn't looking?
Haruhi leaned back on her seat, rubbing her belly. "Still, I never pegged you as the type to drink stuff like that."
Kyoya set down a cup in front of her. It was a thick, dark concoction with white foam on top, sprinkled with cinnamon and cocoa powder.
"Try it. I know refined sugar is bad for the baby, but there's not a lot of it in there," he explained as he took the seat beside her with his own cup of cocoa.
Haruhi took a sip and was surprised. It wasn't at all sweet, and instead was dark and rich. The cinnamon gave it its light, earthy sweetness and before she knew it, Haruhi was gulping down the drink. Thankfully, it was just the right temperature or she might have burned her tongue lapping it down.
"I see that you like it," said Kyoya dryly.
Haruhi smiled at him. "Best one I've ever had."
"I'm glad." He took a sip of his own as well.
Haruhi frowned at her empty cup. "We should have had cake with this."
"Oh? What cake would you like with it?"
"Hmm…something not too sweet. Like a carrot cake or a spiced cake."
A peaceful silence settled over them as they enjoyed their drinks.
"Haruhi," said Kyoya slowly, as if hesitating, "If you don't mind…would you tell me why you wanted to have a baby?" The question had been nagging at him for days now, and damn it all to hell if he didn't have it answered soon before it exploded in his head.
Haruhi was taken aback by the question. Kyoya was a nosy person, but she thought that he at least had the grace to back out of personal stuff like this. She snorted mentally. This was Kyoya. What was she thinking? Butting into other people's business was his business. He's a bastard to whom gossip columnists would die to be connected.
She heaved a huge sigh and looked out of the French windows, directing her gaze to the backyard. "It's just that…I'm pushing thirty, Kyoya, and I still haven't married, much less have a boyfriend. I'm lonely, I guess, and now that I have this child, I won't be so alone anymore."
Kyoya stared at her wide-eyed, unable to believe the sadness and heartbreak in her voice beneath the joy she tried to convey.
She and Kyoya were the same….
"What are you talking about?" said Kyoya, "Men are falling for you left and right: case in point Hikaru, Tamaki, and for a short while, Kaoru not to mention the numerous advances from your colleagues and clients. Now, Haruhi, don't be so indignant. It was just a general observation. You also haven't dated since you broke things up with Tamaki. Did he do something that made you dislike men in general?" If he did, I'll kill him!
Haruhi shook her head. "No, it's not like that. When Tamaki and I were dating, we tried to make it work; we really did. I found that instead of actually getting over the things about him that annoy me so much, I let my irritation grow with every passing day. He was nice, and he did take care of me, but I figured that something wasn't right.
"In a sense, I was never really in love with him. Maybe I fell in love with the idea of him but when we were actually together…. So yeah, maybe that put me off men, yet it's not Tamaki's fault." She gave him a small, self-deprecating smile. "Maybe it really is just me."
Kyoya frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Granted I'm not the best authority to tell you of this, but it seems to me as if you've given up quite easily." He gave her a challenging look. "The Haruhi I know would never surrender to something as stupid as her first relationship not working out so she had to make up this stupid notion to get pregnant so she'd have a constant companion--" He was ranting and didn't care.
For fuck's sake, this was the reason that night happened? He couldn't believe nor understand it. It was insane! If she was lonely, he was there, wasn't he?
She didn't need to subject herself to this type of pain and humiliation. Though they lived in a modern society, single mothers were still looked down upon and she'd be dragging the poor child with her!
"Shut up!" Haruhi yelled, upset that he would say something like that. He was criticising her, telling her that she made a stupid mistake. She knew that, knew to the very core that she was doing something wrong, but this was what she wanted.
She needed this baby, in ways he could never understand!
"You don't know what happened and what I've gone through, so don't you dare condemn my actions and decisions! How would you know of loneliness? You have brothers and a sister there for you! My father is all I have and he's off to God knows where every time I need him!"
"That's not true! You have Mei, Tamaki, Hikaru, Kaoru, Mori, and Hunny there for you!" His voice didn't rise like hers, but she felt rather than heard the exclamation there.
Haruhi scoffed. "And where are they now? They know of my condition, what I'm going through, so why aren't they here for me?" She gave him a glare. "What about you, Kyoya? Will you be there when I need you?"
"I'm here for you, aren't I?" he said softly, the anger in his eyes abating.
"But will you be there always?" her voice was soft as well. Before she had carried his child, he would have said, "I'll think about it." or something as callous as that.
However, now, he found that he couldn't and wouldn't say that to her.
Because now, Haruhi was more than the mother of his child. He had known deep in his heart that she always had a special place in it; he had just chosen to ignore it most of the time. This time, he had the chance to have her, or drive her away, and damn it all if he lost her to somebody ever again--most of all to herself and her own insecurities.
"Haruhi," he began as honestly and sincerely as he could, "The moment that you opened that door yesterday, I--"
His phone rang loudly in his pocket before he could go any further. He pulled it out and flipped it open.
"Ootori Kyoya," he said tonelessly. He took a quick look at the pregnant woman in front of him and wasn't surprised to see her clenching and unclenching her fist in an effort to keep her murderous intention on himself in check.
"Ootori-sama!" the voice on the other end was slightly panicked, "I just got some news. It's about Miss Fujioka's father…."
Kyoya snapped to attention. He glanced at Haruhi, who was still staring at him with those hateful eyes. Not wanting her to hear any of the conversation that would surely follow, he got up and went outside to the back patio.
"What happened to Ranka-san?" he demanded.
Haruhi sat in her seat, wondering what had happened. First, they were enjoying some nice cocoa, then the bastard asked a stupid question…and then they fought. It was their first fight ever. Kyoya was never the type to argue like that. That bastard was as unfeeling as a brick with the EQ of wallpaper.
Nor was he the person to go and get all concerned about her as well. He was her friend, that was already established, but other than periodically trying to rescue her from (or push her into) the inanities of the other members of their little group, he had never really shown that he cared for her--at least vocally.
So she was confused. Why was he so caring all of a sudden?
Unless…oh fucking shitty ass hell son of a bitch crap buggering NIBBLETS! (1)
He's Tamaki in disguise!
Kyoya slammed the French doors open, startling Haruhi out of her shocking reverie.
She stalked up to him, patting his face, twisting his nose, and even going so far as running her hands up and down his arms.
Though Kyoya would not admit even under torture that he was silently enjoying the physical contact with Haruhi, confusing as it was, there were more pressing matters to which to attend.
"What the hell are you doing, Haruhi?" He grabbed her hands away from his face.
"Just checking to see if you are Kyoya and not some idiot in disguise," she explained calmly.
"I refuse to acknowledge that stupidity," he said, trying not to roll his eyes. He stared at her seriously. "I'm taking you with me to Tokyo. No arguments. Pack up your things so we can leave immediately."
"And what makes you think that I'll do anything you say?" She pulled her hands away, ready to stomp off. She was still pissed at him.
The smirk he gave her was predatory and more than a little scary.
"I know something you don't, my dear Haruhi," he replied in his most suave tone. He then sighed. It wasn't the time to be so freaking glib! This was an emergency!
"Haruhi, this is important, and I hate to tell you about this, but please stay calm." He took her arm and had her sit on one of the wicker chairs in the kitchen table. He sat beside her. "I got a call from a friend. He's the coordinator of the tour that Ranka-san and Misuzu-san are in. It seems that Ranka-san had an accident while in Germany. He was hit by a car and nearly killed. He's in the hospital now, and I made sure only the best doctors are caring for him."
Haruhi panicked: her breathing grew heavy, her heart beat wildly, and she was shaking. Kyoya hesitantly held her clammy hand in his, squeezing it in reassurance.
"He's stabilized and is in the ICU," he said softly, trying to inject some confidence and comfort in his voice for her sake, "I just contacted my company and we're sending an airplane there so Ranka can be transferred to one of my hospitals in Tokyo." Still, Haruhi was trembling, and her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.
Unable to help himself, Kyoya enveloped her in his arms, rubbing her back soothingly and it was then that Haruhi released the floodgates.
"Dad…" she sobbed, soaking his shirt.
"Shh…calm down, stop crying," he soothed, running his hand down her back awkwardly. He had never done this whole "comforting a hormonal and worried to death pregnant woman" thing, but this was the mother of his child. He had to at least try. "He'll be okay. I told you, he'll only get the best possible care." He held her at arm's length and gently wiped away the tears in her cheeks with a tender thumb.
"And since it's you, I'll give you a forty percent discount on the hospital bills, what do you say?" he added as an afterthought.
"Kyoya!" growled Haruhi warningly, not knowing whether he was kidding or not.
But deep inside the turmoil of anxiety for her father's injuries, Haruhi had another thing to think about.
She didn't want to go back to Tokyo.
To Be Continued
They were passing by the baby clothes shop, when Haruhi squealed at the sheer cuteness of a pink dress displayed in the window. It was made of a silky material and had a cute velvet bow in a darker pink colour than the rest of the dress.
"Hey, look at that, Kyoya!" she said excitedly, pulling at his sleeve, "Wouldn't that look cute on my baby?"
"Well, if your baby is a girl," agreed Kyoya, "But if it's a boy and you still decide for him to wear that…Ranka-san has someone to follow in his footsteps after all. Just tell him that even though he chooses to be a tranny, he will still be the seme in the relationship, okay?" I cannot have my potential heir be an uke! We Ootoris are the seme!
"Shut up!" said Haruhi, giggling at his unprecedented sense of humour, "Don't jinx my baby! I'll die if it was a boy and he started to want dresses instead of trousers!"
But as they walked along, Kyoya had a feeling of a strange déjà vu.
Back in Tokyo, Fuyumi giggled as she perused their old family albums, in particular the shot of a one-year-old Kyoya modelling a pink silk dress with a velvet bow. She could still remember the hell Yoshio raised that day.
Thank goodness though, that Kyoya grew tired of dresses when he turned three.
"Where am I?" asked Haruhi groggily, sitting up on the unfamiliar bed. She fingered the black silk sheets, revelling in its sheer luxury and comfort.
"In my apartment," answered Kyoya from nearby. He was sitting on an armchair, reading a newspaper. He put down the reading material and sat beside her on the bed.
"Oh, I see." She made to get out of the bed. "I'm going home. Thanks for taking care of me."
"Nope," said Kyoya simply, holding her hand fast, "You're staying here in the condo until I say so."
Haruhi glowered. "Like I'll do anything you say! You can't order me around!"
Kyoya cupped her cheek. "Then what do I need to do for you to listen to me?"
A/N: Sorry for the late update. As always, thank you for the very nice reviews and encouragements that I've been getting for this story. Thank you as well to the many readers, and though they do not leave a comment, at least they took the time to take a look. J You guys so rock!
On another note, I forgot to mention this, but one of my other stories, Miscalculation, is actually a side-story to this fic. I already have the second part ready, but I decided not to post it because there are too many spoilers for this fic. So I won't be updating that. :giggles: At least not for a while.
(1) I am ashamed to admit this, but my sister forced me to watch Hannah Montana, specifically the one with the Jonas Brothers in it, and I have been listening to the track Video Girl by the JB since then.
Disclaimer: If I owned Ouran, I would have Kyoya and Haruhi practically glued together 24/7 until Haruhi confesses that she wants the sheer smexiness that is Kyoya, and not the pansy Tamaki like the manga is so inclined upon!