[AN: This is going to be an Haru/Mori fic. Don't like, don't read, don't flame.]
Disclaimer: I do not own "Ouran High School Host Club" or any of the characters therein. It is not my intention, deliberate or otherwise, to claim otherwise.
Thoughts in italics
What Time We Have
Haruhi glanced over her shoulder again. The blonde man that had been stalking her for the past two hours ducked behind a power pole as if it would shield him from view. Her first clue that she was being followed was the proclaimed "Don't be fooled, Haruhi!" when she had found sushi on sale three for a 100 yen.
Dressed in a black trench coat that came down to his ankles and a black fedora hat complete with glittering green and grey dancing teddy bears on the band, blue eyes peeped warily over the rim of his obviously high dollar teddy bear sunglasses. Tamaki wasn't fooling anyone.
'Stupid rich people.'
Haruhi sighed and looked down at the discount groceries she had spent all evening bargaining for.
Determined to sic Kyoya on him, Haruhi shifted her purchases to reach for her cell phone, a Christmas gift from Kyoya (that went straight on her debt). The bag on her right arm suddenly split down the middle, the contents immediately spreading into an ever widening mess on the ground.
Haruhi's eyes widened. The expensive cough medicine that she had picked up for her sick father rolled merrily toward the drain in the intersection in front of her, intent on being lost in the sewer.
Dropping her bags and running for it, Haruhi vaguely registered the strangely serious tone of Tamaki's voice shouting and the scream of tires. A glimpse of steel glinting grabbed her attention, causing her head to turn. It felt like moving through water. Everything slowed down for a moment. The delivery truck desperately trying to swerve to miss her, then the fierce burning sensation that took over her body before soothing darkness blanketed everything.
Tamaki could only watch in horror as the truck slammed into Haruhi, throwing her back into the concrete walls that lined the homes so heavily in her neighborhood.
Shoving his way through the already gathering throng of onlookers, Tamaki stopped several men. "Don't move her!"
Whipping out his phone, Tamaki hit the speed dial while assessing his dear daughter figure.
"Haruhi's been hit by a truck, bleeding heavily. Follow the GPS on my phone!" He slammed the button to end the call before shooing more gawkers away from Haruhi. His hands shook as he lifted his phone again. There was one other person who needed to know.
The beep of the monitors sounded softly in the dim room. Kyoya glanced over at the plethora of colorful hospital gown and robe sets with matching slippers filling the slightly open closet that the Hitachiin brothers had created while waiting in the hospital lounge.
Bears and roses of all shapes and sizes filled one open corner of the room, get well wishes from a guilt ridden Tamaki. Kyoya's mouth tightened. He was blaming himself for not reaching Haruhi in time.
The overwhelming smell of sugar brought his attention to the last free corner of the room. Bunny rabbits and cake from Hunny-sempai, confections from all of the finest patisseries in the world.
Turning to the bed, it was an almost painful scene for Kyoya to view. Haruhi, bruises littering her face and arms with tubes and IV's strung to her form, was stark against the finest Egyptian cotton that Kyoya had made sure graced her bed. Bun Bun pressed softly into her left cheek.
Satoshi held her left hand, his sleeping form bent over the grip he had on it. Protective of his new sister. Chika rested next to his chair, his back pressed into the side. Kyoya's brow shot up at the sight of Hunny-sempai curled up in his brothers' arms.
Mori sat across the bed with Haruhi's right hand and arm, blessedly free of wires and tubes, clutched to his chest as he brushed her stray bangs from her eyes. Dark rings circled his own eyes, a testament to his unwavering vigil over the woman he loved.
Knowing Kyoya would already have Haruhi transported by the time he arrived, Mori had rushed to the hospital. Hunny, usually so shota in his actions, had stood silently next to his best friend with tears streaming down his face.
Hikaru and Kaoru had arrived not long after; sewing baskets in hand as they knew it would be a long wait before they had any news on her condition. They would make sure she was the most beautifully dressed patient in the hospital.
Satoshi and Chika had been at a competition when the news had reached them. They had stopped to pick up Ryoji on their way to the hospital, leaving Kyoya to deal with the doctors in charge of Haruhi's care.
Kyoya had remained by Haruhi's side in the operating room, barking orders at the nurses and doctors while coordinating the search for the driver responsible for doing this. Kyoya extended a personal invitation for the man to stay with the Ootori interrogators for a very long time. No one would be seeing the man who hit her ever again.
The damage to her internal organs had been extensive, and despite everything she had slipped into a coma during the surgery. It wasn't until Haruhi's heart stopped that Kyoya relinquished his laptop and phone. The doctors had needed to restart her heart three times before the doctor finally conceded defeat the fourth time, calling her time of death.
Kyoya had pinned the sniveling man to the wall with a hand on his neck, threatening that if they didn't save her, they would be joining the man who put her here. By some miracle, probably brought down by the medical staff's fervent prayers, they had managed to resuscitate her once more time.
Ryoji had been devastated by the news. After having lost his wife, now his baby girl was fighting for her own with no guarantee that she would ever wake up if she survived.
After the first thirty six hours, Kyoya arranged for a private room next to Haruhi for him to ensure his pneumonia didn't worsen, assuring him they would let him know if there was any change. Mori, however, would not be budged.
Hunny had quietly pulled Kyoya away from trying to reason with the silent sentinel shortly before midnight to ask that certain arrangements be made. He had been shocked when Hunny had confided in him that should Haruhi not survive, Mori's warrior heart would not allow him to remain. He would follow her to the next world.
Hunny had asked Kyoya to make preparations for that.
Kyoya shifted his glasses up on his face before walking over to check Haruhi's vital signs chart. She still hadn't passed the critical point, but the last doctor recorded that he was fairly certain that she would survive. Too bad he wasn't a very good liar since his hands had obviously been shaking when he wrote the missive.
"Mori-sempai, perhaps it would be best to rest for a while." Kyoya began checking the IV drips. Mori didn't even look up, his eyes focused on Haruhi's face. The tightening of his hand around hers was the only sign that he had heard Kyoya's suggestion.
Pushing up his glasses once more Kyoya debated with himself as he checked her breathing tubes. Mori's steadfast resolve finally making his decision for him.
"There is a small dojo three blocks to the northeast of here. The Ikatta family. If Haruhi succumbs to her injuries…" He had to pause for a moment to clear the lump from his throat, "if Haruhi succumbs to her injuries, the dojo will be vacated for several hours afterward."
Mori's eyes finally left Haruhi to meet Kyoya's behind flashing lenses. He gave a nod before turning back, giving Kyoya the only answer he could.
His offer made, Kyoya slowly left the room, aware that he could possibly be seeing two of his closest friends for the very last time.
The incense had a pleasant smell as it drifted into the lazy autumn air.
A blonde young man stared at the grave, his hand resting on the shoulder of his slender black haired companion. "They would have wanted it this way. For them to be together always." His tone an almost reverent whisper.
His companion snorted before pushing up his glasses. "They wouldn't have cared either way. Just leave your offering and let's leave. It does no good to linger over painful memories."
The blonde pulled both his fisted hands up under his chin. "So mean! What would Grandfather say?!" He whimpered.
"That he never should have let his daughter marry into your side of the family. It's obvious his son made a much better choice." The brunette clapped his hands and offered a silent prayer before bowing and turning to walk away.
"Hey, Auntie married into the same family so you can't say anything." The blonde hurriedly left his gift before following suit.
Another snort. "She married into their cousins' family, not the same one."
Their bickering back and forth, drifting down the hill as they continued toward the Rolls Royce that waited at the bottom.
Neither boy noticed the strong silent specter help his lovely spectral bride from her seat on the gravestone.
Haruhi's smile was gentle. She had always enjoyed her grandchildren, even if she did have to share them with Tamaki and Kyoya.
'Stupid rich people.'
[AN: New story, new story. Just a oneshot I needed to get off my brain while trying to finish 'To Love a Demon.' I keep hoping to get a sequel to 'The Morinozuka Gang' but so far I'm just drawing a blank. Maybe after the picture for it gets finished. Back to the notebook… *scribble scribble scribble*]