Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ A Momentary Lapse of Reason ❯ Impossible ( Chapter 2 )

A Momentary Lapse of Reason

Chapter 2 - Impossible

 

It wasn't often that the Hikaru and Kaoru saw Kyouya display any sort of emotion, so when they saw his furrowed eyebrow, narrowed eyes, and the palor that graced his visage, they were undeniably concerned. Tamaki, in his enthusiasm, missed the signal completely. He rushed forward, grasping Kyouya by his shoulders and shaking him fiercely. His eyes were crazed, his movements as exagerated as always.

 

“Did you find her? Is she hurt? Is she sick?”

 

When the dark-haired senior offered no immediate answer, Tamaki burst into tears and fell to the floor, his long fingers gripping his hair frantically.

 

“You didn't find my poor daughter! She was kidnapped wasn't she? You found a ransom note!”

 

Hikaru and Kaoru sighed and moved forward, stepping on him as they moved closer to Kyouya.

 

“So where is she?” they asked in unison. Kyouya, who was still watching the writhing figure of Tamaki on the floor with something akin to a helpless tolerance, answered calmly.

 

“Actually, Haruhi…” he paused, wondering if he should soften the news for the poor blonde, who looked like he was going to have a heart attack if someone didn't stop his raving soon.

 

On one hand, he needs to grow up, but if he does, he will no longer be Tamaki…

 

When the Shadow Prince looked at the twins, his eyes were a little lost, his gaze a bit unfocussed. Their wild, green, expectant eyes bore into him like they always did. “Mori found her hiding behind the kiln in the art studio.”

 

Tamaki's ranting stopped so abruptly, that the other three turned to look at him incredulously to see if he hadn't suddenly experienced heart failure after all. To their immense relief - or perhaps annoyance - he stood up and dusted himself off.

 

“That was fast,” Kaoru commented bitterly. Hikaru crossed his arms in front of him, the gesture one of childish agitation that seemed to have become a habit. His left foot tapped against the marble floor impatiently. All three men were suddenly waiting on Kyouya for an answer to a question that might as well have been an obsession, so powerful was its pull upon their minds.

 

“Is she in the Med Center?” Tamaki asked, his attitude changing abruptly from idiotic paranoia to genuine concern. Violet eyes intent, lips set in a straight and immovable line - the senior could have easily passed for the “cool” type of alias that the Shadow Prince held.

 

Maybe you were right, Haruhi…perhaps there is something similar about us after all…

 

Slowly, Kyouya nodded, and had no choice but to follow when the blonde sprang forward, running as fast as he could down the large hallway that would lead them to the infirmary.

 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

 

There were few things in life that made him worry - few things had could claim to have any sort of impact on the smooth lake of his emotions. There was hardly a minute in which he sincerely felt troubled about anything, and even fewer moments when such troubles showed themselves upon his face. He was, therefore, surprised to find that when he looked upon her flushed face and listened to her harsh breathing, he felt an acute pain in the center of his chest.

 

The nurse had done her best to cover up the windows of the infirmary - closing all of the shutters and draping the heavy, gold-trimmed curtains over the wood. The room was dark except for a single, slender lamp that glowed brightly in the right corner. A tinge of lemon and herbal salve flavored the air, making it a bit too unpleasant for his taste. Something important was missing from the puzzle of his reality, and the piece lay in the large, queen-sized bed at his side.

 

Where was her smile? Where was her sarcasm?

 

Had it all really dissappeared into the tiny child that slept so fitfully?

 

He frowned when a cough tore itself from her throat; flinched almost invisibly when she let out a ragged moan of suffering. Calmly, he stood, sliding the almost dry cloth from her forehead and moving to soak it in the small bowl of ice water that rested on the small bed table. When the cooler cloth finally touched her skin once again, he slid back into his uncomfortable seat, dimly wondering where the others were. Cool, grey eyes closed. The thunder continued to pound against the glass, and although the shutters and curtains did a good job to block out most of the noise, the sound was still near deafening. Fortunately, Haruhi's level of unconciousness was so deep that she didn't seem to hear the sounds.

 

But perhaps it wasn't fortunate after all…

 

The nurse had looked nervous when Kyouya and himself had brought her into the infermary - her breathing shallow and her hands, knees, and legs covered in spots where the kiln had burned through her clothing. Luckily, most of the holes in her uniform had been just that - holes - parts where the kiln hadn't made it through to touch her fragile skin. The first step had been to wake her up and make her drink something - anything to keep her from getting dehydrated. Once they had managed to force a half-concious and delirious girl to drink some hot antihystamine solution, she had collapsed onto the matress, completely dead to the world.

 

“I suppose that I must tell the others…” Kyouya had announced, then. His facial expression was hidden by his glasses, but Mori would have had to have been blind not to see just how much Haruhi's condition had disturbed him. After all, seeing her in such a terrible state had unnerved even himself.

 

The walls shuddered. Mori let out a breath he hadn't realized that he'd been holding. Suddenly, he straightened up, his ears picking up a small coming from Haruhi's direction.

 

“…water…”

 

Standing up from his uncomfortable perch on the chair that was way too small for his height, he knelt down until he was on his knees beside the bed. Haruhi's eyes were open, the pupils dilated to an alarming degree. She looked at him, and he realized that he had never felt more helpless.

 

“…Mori - ”

 

He interupted her, putting a hand on her shoulder and picking up a glass of water.

 

“Drink,” he motioned. Clumsily, helped her sit up, careful in his movements so as to avoid touching any of the bandages. When she was leaning comfortably against the headboard, she grabbed the water and drank greedily. She coughed and he jerked the glass away, suddenly fearing that she would choke in her enthusiasm. When he did not return the drink, she reached for it herself, only to miss when he moved the glass out of her reach.

 

“Please…”

 

His throat contricted. Not even Mitsukuni looked so dangerously pursuasive when he begged. Then again, he thought, he had never seen Haruhi begging before. If the cercumstances had been different, she would have looked rather charming.

 

“Slowly.” She nodded, this time taking care to only swallow one gulp at a time. When she was satisfied, he set the glass back down on the table. He was about to tell her to go back to sleep when she gasped, her eyes widening.

 

“My bag!” It took Mori more than a few seconds to understand why she was so alarmed, and by the time he understood, she was already throwing off the blankets and kicking her feet over the side of the bed. Thankfully, his reflexes were fast, or else she would have tried to dash right past him. Stumbling on the persian rug that covered the floor beneath the large four-poster, she was almost on the ground before Mori caught her and dragged her up against him. One large hand covered the entire span of her stomach, while the other gently but firmly rested against her throat.

 

“Mori-sempai…” she said weakly. “Please let go.”

 

“Why?” He had to admit that he was irritated with her actions. The girl really had no instincts of self-preservation.

 

“My bag…I left it…wait…where did I leave it?”

 

If he had been good with words, he probably would have tried to tell her that someone would return it to the security desk. If he had been good with words, he probably would have tried to tell her that she was being incredibly careless, and that there was no way in hell that he would let her walk around in her condition. But, alas - Mori was very far from being good with words. Because the gift of eloquent speech was something only Tamaki and Kyouya seemed to enjoy using, he simply reverted to the only kind of language he knew how to use. Grasping her shoulder and whirling her around to face him, he looked down on her from his impressive height, daring her to disobey him. Surprisingly, she was still ranting on about her useless bag, his actions apparently not bothering her in the least. Suddenly latching on to his jacket, she looked at him angrily, her delirium wiping any trace of rationale from her huge, brown eyes.

 

“I worked very hard to get that money, and now that I left it….somewhere…I won't be able to have lunch this week. Or breakfast…or dinner…wait…no…I don't have dinner at school.” She tried to shake him. “Don't you understand? My bag!”

 

Her actions and the desperate look on her face caused a wave of tenderness that he was unfamiliar with to glide down his spine. Raising his hand from her shoulder, he moved a stray bang from her face, only his fingertips touching her skin. Her overflow of words suddenly came to a complete halt.

 

“…Mori-sempai?”

 

The unexpected atmosphere of intimacy was growing, and he realized that he was completely clueless as to how the situation had developed in the first place. All that he knew was that somewhere in darkest corner of his mind was the desire to silence her in a much more dangerous way than a simple glare. His body moved without his mind's consent, until he was leaning forward and until his breath urged some of her hair into movement. Her eyes were glazed, her cheeks so red that he couldn't tell whether she was feeling the heat of the moment, or the heat of her illness.

 

“I'm dizzy…” she whispered.

 

“Are you?” he asked huskily.

 

“Mori-sempai…wait…I…” He wouldn't have believed her if she had told him that she wanted him to stop now, for she herself was clutching his clothes as if he was her only lifeline. “I…”

 

“You what?” Their lips were almost touching, so close that all he had to do was move slightly forward and they would have done something that would have gone completely against logic. But fate, as always, chose this moment to ruin it all. With a small sigh, Haruhi's eyes closed, her body falling forward into his awaiting arms in a dead faint.

 

The door to the infirmary slowly opened.

 

And Kyouya found them just like that.

 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

 

To be continued…

 

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