-1Title: The Sweetest Sin
Summary: So beautiful, so sweet. I loved her so much. Is it wrong to love your own daughter this way? KyoHaru
Now that I've touched Student-Teacher relationships, why not a Father-Daughter one? Seems sick to you? Then don't fucking read this and then fucking harp on me about writing something as 'sinful' as an incest story. I don't condone it, and never will, so why the fuck am I writing this? Just because I can. Can't update on my other stories yet, because my life is so fucked up that I lost the notebook where most of my shit was written, now I can't think of anything except this crap.
Now, please read, review, and enjoy or I'll eat your unborn children.
Beta-ed by Kalachuchi and darkmirth, because they're awesome and know their stuff. And this serves as a sort of apology for the bombshell that I won't be writing KyoHaru fics for awhile. Hope you forgive me, sweeties! In particular to Kalachuchi, and here's to this fic cheering her up somewhat (dear good God in heaven, ain't it strange that I write something like this) and not abandoning me. Ehehehehe….
I love her.
Sparkling brown eyes, the colour of a forest that had shed the last leaves of winter, brown hair straight and long that reached past her waist.
She is so beautiful.
She spots me, and waves in my direction. I smile back, a slight, serene smile that would have put grown men and women to their knees. I can see a few people from the corner of my eye stare at that smile. But I won't let it go, because that smile is always for her. I only smile for her.
Haruhi knows that, knows that she is my world, my everything.
She runs to my side, and I lean over, intent on giving her a hug. But I am not satisfied, so I pick her up from the floor, carrying her like I had years ago.
"Dad!" she screams at the top of her lungs, highly embarrassed at the display of affection, which should be recorded, logged, then kept as a historical document for this thing never happens. Stress on never. But I can't help myself. I am so proud of her.
"Can't help it," I say, putting her down and giving her a kiss on the top of her sweet head. "I'm just so proud of you."
"So, did you like the recital?" she asks shyly, slipping her soft hands into mine as we walk out of the auditorium to the parked car outside.
"Like it? I absolutely loved it," I tell her. "You were the best in the show."
"I was not! Everyone else played their best as well. We were all the best!" she protests laughing but I can tell that she is pleased by the praise. One more thing about me: I rarely praise anybody for anything. To be appreciated by me, you'd have to have scaled Mt. Everest with only a length of rope, then after doing that, used said rope to bungee jump the highest tower in Tokyo while playing the flute to Beethoven's fifth.
"That doesn't make sense," I say, trying to lead her out of the doors amidst the packed hallways full of cooing parents, patronising teachers, and blushing and hyper children. I want to get out of her before a teacher stopped to congratulate me again about my musical prodigy of a daughter.
"Mr. Ootori!" somebody calls behind me and I barely hide the groan that escapes my lips. I grasp Haruhi's hand tighter, silently asking for some of the patience she seemed to radiate off of her in waves.
"Mikuru-sensei!" Haruhi says happily. I recognise her as her violin teacher. I have only met her a few times, when Haruhi enrolled in her violin lessons two years ago, the time of Haruhi's first recital nearly eight years ago, and sometimes when I dropped Haruhi off her studio before I went to work.
"Mikuru-sensei," I repeated after Haruhi. "Good evening."
The teacher gives me this sweet smile (though not as beautiful as Haruhi's smile). "Did you enjoy tonight's performance? Haruhi here was the best in the whole show. I bet you must be so proud of her."
"Yes, I am," I say, relaxing a bit. She is one of the few females in this world who never had any interest in getting into my bed. She genuinely cared for my daughter, and I am grateful for that. Her conversations with me constituted mostly of the niceties, then a full rant about how my daughter was doing in her lessons.
"Mikuru-sensei suggested that I play Romance for violin and orchestra number 2, but I wanted Symphony number 8, which was a bit more advanced. So we made a compromise and did Sonata for violin and piano number 5 in F major," Haruhi babbles.
"And I can safely say that it was one of the highlights in the whole performance," says Mikuru-sensei.
True, everyone could not deny that it was one of the best performances in that stage. Mikuru was playing the piano while my Haruhi was on the violin. The music they created…I cannot describe it enough in words.
"Why is it all Beethoven?" I ask.
"'Cause he's our favourite composer!" both females tell me without missing a beat and I have to chuckle at that.
I glance at my watch. Mikuru-sensei sees this and gives me a smile.
"It seems that I'm keeping you," she says. "Well, have a good evening both of you, and congratulations on that wonderful performance. You did you best there, and I am also proud of you."
"Thanks, Mikuru-sensei! Our hard work finally paid off!" Haruhi says happily.
Mikuru nods and bows to the both of us.
"See you in class on Tuesday, Haruhi."
Haruhi waves after her and I pull my daughter out to the parking lot, intent on making our eight o' clock reservation in my favourite restaurant.
"What would you like for dinner tonight?" I ask as I manoeuvre us into the night traffic.
"Hmm…are we going to Host again?" she says, scrunching her nose a bit.
"Yes." I frown. "Is there anywhere else you'd like to eat?"
"No, not particularly," she replies, fiddling with her seatbelt. "I just want to go home and have dinner there."
I understand. The performance tired her out. "I see. We'll just get some food to go, then have dinner while watching a movie."
She grins at me widely. "That sounds great! I want some Chinese! I want shrimp and pork dumplings and some ootoro sushi!"
"We'll get all those," I promise. "What movie would you like to see?"
I switch off the TV, careful not to jostle the sleeping Haruhi in my arms. Somewhere ten minutes into the movie, she announced that she was cold and jumped into my arms, saying that I was a walking furnace. Better than a blanket, I believe that was what she called me. But I knew that she was scared, and wanted a cuddle.
I am sad that she is growing up, and there would come a time when she would not even deign to have a cuddle with me but she is my little girl, my miniature princess. She always will be.
"Haruhi?" I say gently, tucking stray hairs away from her face. "Haruhi?"
She shifts a little before cracking open one eye. "Hmm?"
"The movie is over. Want to clean up and go to bed?"
To my surprise, she closes her eye again and snuggle further into my arms. My grip on her tightens.
"No, I don't want to be alone tonight," she mumbles sleepily, rubbing her nose on the soft cloth of my shirt.
"Did the movie scare you?" I tease. "But you were the one who wanted to watch it."
"My classmates told me it wasn't that scary," she retorts.
"Tell you what," I say. "Get cleaned up and in your pyjamas and you can sleep with me in my bed tonight."
She looks at me and smiles. God, how I would do anything for that smile.
"I'd love that. Thanks, Dad."
After our nightly routine of showering, brushing, and dressing, Haruhi climbs into my bed, making herself comfortable under my thick, dark sheets. I slide in beside her, wondering if she wanted to sleep in my arms, like I wanted her to.
She buries her nose in my pillow, as if inhaling my scent. "This pillow smells like you. This whole bed smells like you."
"Well, I'd say that your bed smells like you, too," I answer. "Don't you like my scent? I don't have BO, that I can assure you."
"I know that. And I like your scent. It's clean…and makes me feel safe and warm." She shoots me another smile and I smile back.
I am about to bid her good night and close my eyes when her next request stupefies me.
"Dad? Can I hug you?"
I extend my arm, and she moves closer, curling at my side, warming me in ways I'd rather not think about now, especially when it concerns my own daughter. I am about to let her go when she stops me.
"No, don't let go. I like sleeping in your arms. I know I can't do this anymore when I grow up, so I just want to savour the moment. Please?"
I just pull her closer, rolling to my side so I could embrace her with both arms. She buries her head in my shoulder, and I can feel the soft smile on her face against the thin silk of my pyjamas.
Never. I'll never let you go. My dear, precious Haruhi.
Haruhi is my adopted daughter. Her mother, Fujioka Kotoko was a great friend of mine, being the chief legal of my company, which is part of the Ootori Group that my father heads. Haruhi, Kotoko, and her husband, Ranka, made a wonderful family. I was actually there when Haruhi was born, holding her as if she were my own while Kotoko beamed and Ranka preened.
They were happy, and there were times when they made me feel like I was part of it. And I was glad for that, I still am in fact. I had never known familial bonds being brought up in my family. All my father cared about was producing great heirs to take his place in the board of his companies once he retires. I was born to excel. The Fujiokas made me feel that I was born to be loved and be part of their little family.
It didn't matter that I was Kotoko's boss or that Kotoko was my employee. She acted like a mother would towards me and would occasionally bring Haruhi to the office so I could be distracted when it seemed that everything went to hell in the business world.
That was one thing that Kotoko noticed: I was closer to Haruhi than anyone else. Maybe it was because I was so involved during her pregnancy (I was the one who stayed up until two a.m. to help Ranka assemble the crib, the one who assisted in painting the nursery, the one who arranged the best possible care for Kotoko when she gave birth…) or maybe it was because Haruhi's mere presence calmed me down or something. I cannot explain it myself. But there's something about her.
I never saw her as a daughter. I might have seen her as a little sister but it all changed when the accident happened.
Kotoko and Ranka were walking back home after doing the shopping that rainy afternoon. The driver was drunk and fell asleep on the wheel. The truck swerved, crashing into a shop…Kotoko and Ranka were in front of that shop. They couldn't escape.
Haruhi never cried. She didn't speak for days, and as her guardian, under Kotoko and Ranka's will, I had her live with me. She mourned in her own silent way, and I was amazed at her strength. She never lashed out but instead accepted things in her own way, praying for her parents.
I asked her if she was sad, now that she was alone. To which she answered that she wasn't alone, not really. Because she had Kyoya-niisan there with her. She was confident that even though Mom and Dad were gone, I would always be there to take care of her. So she wasn't afraid, not really. Mom and Dad were still watching her in heaven, weren't they? And if she prayed hard enough, they would protect her and me, so we would never be alone.
She was four years old.
I fell in love with a little girl in that instant.
Two months into her parents' deaths, I started to file for Haruhi's adoption. My father never understood my decision, saying that she didn't deserve to be an Ootori. I hadn't spoken to him since then. I was determined to raise Haruhi. Not as an Ootori, but as Ootori Kyoya's daughter. Raised to be loved, cherished and protected. Not as the next heiress to a multi-billion corporation.
I know I had angered my father with my decisions, but he could not do anything about it. My older brothers were insubstantial compared to my talents in the business field. Without my leading at least twenty-five percent of the company's assets, we could have been facing billions of yen in losses come the fiscal years. But I prevented all that.
I remember the time when I was asked by Fortune magazine what was my secret. I can still clearly see the shock on the reporter's face when I answered that raising my daughter keeps me sane. And I always ask for her opinion whenever I make a major decision. I told the reporter that Haruhi was always correct in her opinions and I listen to her.
The business world had a field day when they learned that one of the world's most feared businessmen heeded the advice of a five-year-old girl. But I proved them wrong time and time again. I nearly laughed my ass off when I heard that current heads of companies asked their daughters about their opinion on things. Which ended horribly.
Because those girls weren't my Haruhi.
My father learned to accept Haruhi as an Ootori. But I didn't care.
To me, Haruhi is all that mattered. I had realized dimly that I never really cared for her to be brought up as my heir. Sure, magazines called her as the next Ootori heir (my older brothers' own children were incompetent compared to my Haruhi and my sister's children were already slated as heirs to another company) and I resented that. Haruhi can be anyone she wanted and I would be there to support her.
I don't know when I first recognized my feelings for her as something more than what should a father feel for her daughter. I thought that it was wrong, called myself a paedophile and actually considered therapy.
It wasn't until my sister, Fuyumi, told me that love is love. It wasn't fair to myself after being so starved of love especially in my younger years. But she is my daughter, I argued. She told me that as long as I don't act upon it, I could love her in my own way. Should I do it from afar, an unrequited love that could destroy me, I cannot really stop myself, she said.
Because she knew that my love for her is pure, untainted. The kind of love fools spend their lives searching for. And I found it in my Haruhi.
She is my life, my everything.
I love her so much.
And I am willing to throw everything away if it was only for her.
Haruhi is in college now, studying Pre Law. I knew of her ambition to follow in her mother's footsteps and I was proud of her. She knew exactly what she wanted and went for it.
I was actually very pleased when she told me that as soon as she graduated and passed her BAR exam, she would come and work for my company as a legal aide. I jokingly told her that she would have to start at the bottom, even if she were my daughter.
She said that that was what she wanted. She didn't expect to be treated differently just because she was Ootori Kyoya's daughter.
If possible, my love for her grew with each passing day. We called each other everyday, no matter how busy we were. Made time whenever I was in town and not out of the country dong one business or another.
I am now the head of Ootori Group, been at it ever since my father retired a year ago. I had started to talk to him when Haruhi was nearly finishing high school. He told me that he couldn't' find anyone competent enough to leave the company with except me. I had never fully forgiven him for calling Haruhi 'commoner trash' as he did before but he is still my father.
I agreed to head the company but only when Haruhi entered college.
He accepted and we had a deal.
My mobile rings and I hasten to answer it. Only one person has the number for this particular phone and I use it exclusively to call her. I withdraw the slim black phone from my breast pocket, flipping it open.
"Dad!" An exuberant voice greets me on the line.
A small smile graces my lips. I stand to stare at the city below from the glass walls in my office.
"Haruhi, I'm glad you called."
"Guess what? I finished all of my coursework early for this semester and my professors agreed that I could come home a day earlier than usual! Isn't that great!"
The happiness that filled me was beyond words. "That's great," I agree softly instead, while my heart jumped in joy. "I'll have Tachibana pick you up from university."
"No, that's not necessary," says Haruhi. "Listen, I invited a friend of mine for the holidays. Is that okay?
I frown. I want Haruhi all to myself this summer holiday, but I know that since she was little, she had little friends and rarely would she ever invite anyone to stay at the mansion. This progress alarmed and relieved me at the same time.
But I have to act like a father now, and not a jealous lover.
"That's fine. I'll have the maids ready up a room for them."
"Great! We're using his car to drive home. I can't wait for you to meet him! (1)"
We bid goodbyes and I snap my phone shut.
Well, I guess things should be eventful at any rate.
I had my secretary clear my schedule in preparation for Haruhi's arrival in the evening. I also have to mentally prepare myself for two girls probably causing havoc to my impeccable house with their make-up and things.
Haruhi has never been too girly, and used minimal make-up and all the things girls her age were going for. Hell if I can even remember her talking about a crush or anything. Her indifference to things people would consider 'normal' for her age should have worried me as her father, but I take great comfort in the thought that she could never be swayed by another man--not as long as I'm alive.
A maid comes by my study to announce Haruhi's arrival. I rise from my seat, ready to welcome her with open arms, when she bursts through the door with someone with her.
It's a guy. A boy. A boy friend.
Funny how you repeat things when you're in shock.
"Dad!" she practically yells and launches herself at me. I return the hug but only as a reflex seeing as my mind can't still wrap around the fact that my daughter, my very precious Haruhi has gotten herself a…a…
No, no, better to be sure about this all before I sic the Ootori-bastardness on him. I don't want to deal with a potential lawsuit right now.
"Welcome home, Haruhi," I manage instead, gripping her closer. God, how I missed her warmth and her scent. Haruhi promptly returns the hug, burrowing herself in my chest like she always did.
She breaks from the warm embrace far too soon for my liking. She steps back, and motions for the boy to come closer. I instantly let my emotionless mask on, regarding the young man before me with a cold once-over.
Blond hair (obviously bleached like most of the misguided teenagers of the world do), violet eyes (contacts), tall, pale, and looking like a stereotypical pretty-boy.
Why, Haruhi? Why have you abandoned and betrayed all the Ootori sensibilities I had taught you since you were a baby?! Who is that bastard that slipped you the drugs and made yourself like any squealing fan girl in the arms of a girly-looking ass like this one? Have I taught you nothing? And here I thought that you go for the silent, broody, dark, tortured, and highly intelligent types. You disappoint me, dear daughter.
I refuse to emulate how my speech sounded like the screaming of a fan girl which would be hypocritical. But it still screams in my ears, begging to be let out of my mouth. Thank goodness that we Ootori are built with a system that allows a filter from our brains to our mouths.
"Dad," Haruhi begins, breaking my silent soliloquy (not to be mistaken as an insane ranting). "This is Suoh Tamaki, a classmate of mine in university. Since I'm taking up law with a minor in management, we met up in management class. He's taking up business."
Suoh…yes, I have heard of this brat. The heir of one of the few businesses in this world that rivalled the Ootori. The lucky brat, as I have heard, was the product of an illegitimate liaison of Suoh Yuzuru and a Frenchwoman and as Yuzuru didn't have a child with his now-divorced wife, he brought back his bastard son to Japan to train as his heir. Interesting. I can use this.
Feh, then that means he's a natural blond.
"This is my father, Ootori Kyoya," finishes Haruhi.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, sir," the Suoh brat says, bowing low.
"The pleasure's all mine," I say back stiffly, barely inclining my head.
"I brought Tamaki here because he's very interested in how companies work and all and since he's going to take after his father soon, I figured that you could teach him a lot. We all know that you're the best, Dad."
I cannot help but smile at my daughter's exuberant praise.
"Um," the blond devil says softly. "It hasn't been decided yet if I'm going to inherit after my father at all. My grandmother, who basically controls the whole thing, isn't very fond of me at the moment."
Haruhi's smile drops. "Is it because of…?"
Suoh just gives a weak smile. "Yeah…."
"But still, even if you're not going to be heading the Suoh empire or something like that, you could still work for them, right? Then, why not have my Dad show you the ropes and I know in a few years' time, they'll be begging you to lead them all!"
"You place too much faith in my abilities, Haruhi," says the blond devil, looking at my daughter with a strange, soft gaze and if I haven't known any better, I'd say that there are cherry blossoms spiralling at his back while the sun shines blindingly across us all and destroying healthy retinas with its brilliance.
"No, I don't," says Haruhi mildly, a teasing look in her eyes. "I believe that Dad is that good and will teach you everything to trounce on them."
Even I have to bite back a smile at that one. Damn straight. My faith in you, dear daughter, has returned full-force.
Suoh looks betrayed and hurt. Serves him right.
I remember my role as gracious host, and though it nearly kills me to do so, I tell Haruhi to show our guest where he would be staying and that dinner should be in a few hours. I will send a maid to collect them.
To my surprise, Haruhi agrees in showing Suoh around but as soon as she ushered Suoh out of the room, telling him that she'll be with him in a minute, she pounces on me again, snuggling close.
"I really missed you, Dad," she mumbles in my sweater. "It's really good to be back home. I have a lot of things to tell you."
"I'm glad you're home as well, Haruhi," I finally choke out despite the emotion lodging itself in my throat. I bury my head in her strawberry-scented head, trying to commit it to memory.
She smiles, leans up and brushes a kiss on my cheek before hugging me again.
How I pray this moment could last forever.
"So, Tamaki, what are your majors?" I ask during dinner. I sit at the head of the enormous table with Haruhi on my right, and the brat on my left.
Suoh swallowed his mouthful of compote before speaking. "Oh, I major in business and marketing."
Marketing. He seems like the happy type to go for that.
"I see. Do you enjoy it much?"
"Well, yes I suppose I do…"
"Why the hesitation?" Haruhi asks this time.
"Well, to tell the truth, business wasn't something I was really interested in before. I actually had another dream."
"What is it?" I cannot help but inquire curiously.
Big mistake. His eyes shines and his face lights up with the joy of a thousand cherubs chorusing in all their half-naked glory.
"A kindergarten teacher or a model!"
My heart lets out a sigh of relief. My Haruhi is safe. He fits the blond stereotype perfectly well. And my Haruhi would never go for dumb blonds! I can feel my inner three-year-old donning a cheerleader uniform and waving pompoms in the air while he cheers for Haruhi. Hell, I might even join.
"Hmm…not a bad idea," pipes up Haruhi and my inner-three-year old replaced pompoms with a bazooka and a hand grenade. "I think you'd be great as a teacher."
Fuck the bazooka and hand grenade. I'm getting a tank and nuclear bomb!
While I make myself comfortable with the thought of Suoh's perfect blond hair burn into a crisp, Haruhi and Suoh talks about their upcoming classes for the new semester.
I raise the last of my roasted duck to my lips when Haruhi asks me, "Dad, can we go to the beach tomorrow? It is summer and I want to enjoy the ocean. I'm getting sick of seeing nothing but concrete."
I put down my fork. "Of course. Get your things ready after dinner then and I'll arrange for us to go to the beach house in Okinawa tomorrow."
"Great! Thanks, Dad."
I glance at the white gold Rolex on my wrist. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish up some work."
"But, Dad," Haruhi whines which surprises me. Haruhi never whines. "I thought you were on vacation. And I said that I needed your help in some of my course work."
I stop my eyebrow from raising. She never asked me that. I smile anyway to mask my confusion.
"All right, all right, meet me in my study after half an hour. I just have to finish up some of the accounts anyway." I lean down for a soft kiss on top of her head as I pass her seat. I suppose that as a father and host, I could have suggested that she get help from Suoh, after all they were in the same year, but that thought was instantly squelched by my desire to have that vile boy away from my Haruhi.
I walk back to my office, wondering what Haruhi had to talk to me about that she'd have to lie in front of her friend.
Things aren't looking too promising.
I click the mouse to send the last e-mail when I hear the knock on the door. I call out for them to come in, though I know exactly who it is.
Haruhi skips to the room, making herself comfortable in one of the leather couches like she always did. My office is her favourite place in the mansion apart from our massive library. When she was younger, she'd always be here to do her homework while I did my own work, occasionally asking questions until I'd stop poring over documents and give her a hand. Most of the time, she'd even sleep here, waiting for me to finish.
When I had asked why she couldn't sleep in her room, she answered that she wanted her good night kiss in bed.
I have to smile at that memory.
"So, what it is you want to talk about?" I begin, placing her legs on my lap while she lay sprawled out on the couch.
"Well, for starters, I was really hesitant of going to university so far away from home, right?"
"Now, I think I'm enjoying it. Classes are the same as they were in high school, only you get to learn more about your career choice and the professors are fun. I also have this cool girl who shares my floor. She's always in my room, gushing about anime and manga and stuff. Her name's Hoshakuji Renge. She's been in France for a few years before moving back here for university. She's crazy, but cool."
"I know the Hoshakujis. I remember when I was younger and in a business dinner with Hoshakuji-shi when his little girl came bounding in my lap, telling me that she will marry me in future. When I asked how she came to that conclusion, she said that I looked like her one true love who was this game character."
Haruhi laughs. "She admitted that to me when I told her that Ootori Kyoya is my father. Well, adoptive father anyway. Then she asked if you were still single so she'd have a chance. I told her in no uncertain terms will I allow her to be my step-mother or something."
I laugh along with her. Glad to know I'm not the only possessive one.
"How about your professors? What are they like?"
"Eh, some are boring, some are interesting, but you should expect those of teachers." Then she blushes. "Though I admit I am crushing on one of my professors."
My hand patting her leg stops. "What?" I choke out.
If possible, the redness reaches towards her neck and I stop myself from enjoying her adorable cherry colour. "His name is Professor Ishida Uryuu and he's tall, dark, and super hot and handsome. Highly intelligent, too."
Note to self: have one Ishida Uryuu fired and banished from the country.
"Most of the female--and some male--population are over the heels for him. I swear, there are days when underwear is flung his way." Her face twists into a melancholic smile. "But I think he's hot for one of the Arts professors, Miss Inoue Orihime. She's very pretty and nice, but I think that people are more interested in her assets more than anything else. (2)"
Or maybe not. Better investigate this person further and if necessary, give him a 'push' in the right direction. Into the arms of that other teacher and away from Haruhi.
Haruhi squeals like a tortured pig. "You should see them, Dad! They're so cute together. Prof Ishida gives out this broody, silent, aloner vibe and Prof Orihime is so bubbly, cute and carefree. They're opposites and stuff and everything. But I hear that they've been best friends forever and they even followed each other in career paths and now they even work together somewhat. I heard that Professor Inoue was crushing on Prof Kurosaki Ichigo on the Medicine department. But it's a lost cause since he's dating Prof Kuchiki Rukia who is also one of my professors."
When did my little girl become such a fan girl? Those girls must have corrupted her! This is not to be borne! If she get interested in other people's relationships, she'll start to question her own, or lack thereof. As her father, I should be protecting that lack thereof part! Nobody can have my Haruhi unless they've graduated Magna Cum Laude in their class, drop-dead gorgeous (I want cute grandchildren who could be slated for Miss Universe or Mr Bachelor of the Year for ten years running!) , be President and CEO of their own company, a total gentleman, and spent the last eighteen years falling in love with his adoptive daughter.
In short, me.
Haruhi by now has crawled in my lap and I wrap my arms around her by instinct.
"Dad?" She prods me in the chest, sending me back down to earth. I look down at her doe eyes and I smile, rocking her back and forth like I used to when there was a thunderstorm outside.
"I wish you didn't have to grow up so soon," I whisper in my melancholy, images of her seemingly too short childhood passing through my brain. It was easier when she was younger. Easier for me to delude myself that I didn't care for her more than what a father should do to his daughter, or that she was too young to understand what I was going through because of her. Too innocent of the dangerous feelings I harbour for her. Too much of a child to be touched and loved in the way I want to.
"Dad, are you saying that you liked me better when I was a kid?" she says incredulously, mirth sparkling from her eyes. I run a hand through her long, brown locks, revelling in the silky feel of the strands against my fingers.
"In a way, yes," I answer as truthfully as I can. "As you grow older, there would come a time when you won't let me hold you anymore like this, a time when you won't let me call you my little princess anymore, a time when…."
I take a deep breath; I don't want to continue anymore, as each word is slowly killing me.
But Haruhi looks at me with those expectant eyes, asking me to go on, to tell her how I really feel.
I stiffen my resolve. She deserves to know the truth. She's old enough. She can understand.
And that is my greatest mistake.
"A time when I would have to let you go," I finish.
"Dad…" she tells me. "You are so dramatic sometimes! Listen, whatever happens, I'll always be your little girl. You're my dad, the only person who's stood by me through thick and thin. You're my father, brother, mentor, and best friend all rolled into one. And I love that, I don't want to let go of that. I'm suggesting that you better get used to the idea of me sticking around you forever because I'm not going to let you go." She gives me a soft smile before placing a light kiss on my cheek. I inhale her scent, closing my eyes. "You are the most important person in my life, Dad."
I open my eyes to see all the emotion reflecting in those hazel orbs. I know that my feelings are out in the open as I stare at the one girl who had managed to turn my life around with a simple wish and a smile.
I don't know what I'm thinking at this moment, but I wonder if her lips tasted as wonderful as they look. Like ripe cherries. And so like a man starved, I dive in.
I kiss my daughter, my lips pressing on hers, so softly, so reverentially, like a devout fanatic worshipping an idol long lost.
I have to taste her, and a tongue darts out from my mouth, swiping along her lips. She tastes so good. She gasps and I take the chance to dive in, my tongue tasting, marking, possessing all what she had to offer.
Then it hits me. I'm kissing her! I'm kissing my daughter! Incest! Rape! Perv alert!
But instead of panicking and cutting off the (delicious) kiss I part from her as gently as I can, amazed that she has her eyes closed, her lips whimpering at the loss of contact.
I wait for her reaction. God, what must she think of me. There's not enough therapy in this world that can help her, she must think. Kissed by her own father-figure! She must think I'm despicable. And I accept that. Understandable. It hurts, but it's understandable.
Yet I need to hear one word from her. Just one word and I'll back away from her life forever. I now that I can't leave her alone but I made a mistake. And now I have to pay for it.
She opens her eyes and I wait with bated breath.
"D…" she starts; I stiffen underneath her.
"Kyoya…" she whispers, her voice as light as a feather.
Haruhi rises from my lap, backs away slowly from the room, and steps out the door. At the soft click of the door being closed, I run my hands through my hair and collapse on the couch.
It only took a minute to destroy what I had built for fifteen years.
A/N: Like it? Hate it? Wanna use it to clean sewages? Do tell. So I'll know whether to continue this or not.
(1) Japanese pronouns for 'he' or 'she' is ambiguous, so Kyoya didn't know if the friend Haruhi is bringing is a male or a female.
(2) Yes, I love the Uryuu-Orihime pairing, and it's one of the few het pairings I tolerate now. I don't care much for an Ichigo-Rukia pairing because it's too…obvious and so predictable.
Mikuru-sensei is Mikuru from the Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. Damn, I just love that show.
Disclaimer: I slapped Kyoya on the bum and Haruhi slapped me two ways to Sunday. Yeah, I don't own him either.