Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Careless ❯ Almost Hero ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

It's too late baby; there's no turning around
I got my hands in my pocket and my head in a cloud
This is how I do
When I think about you
I never thought you could break me apart
I keep a sinister smile and a hole in my heart
You want to get inside then you can get in line
But not this time
'Cause you caught me off guard; now I'm runnin' and screamin'
I feel like a hero
And you are my heroine
-”Hero/Heroine” (Boys Like Girls)

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Title: Almost Hero

Prompt: Brave

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Kyouya jerked awake, immediately alert and ready to take action. But, against what? He could not figure out what would wake him. Brown eyes glanced toward the window and the fact that it was still dark took him by surprise. Another quick glance at the digital alarm clock gave him the time. Red numbers flashed “12:00” at him. Somehow he knew the flashing numbers were significant but his sleep deprived brain could not comprehend.

Angrily he wondered what dared wake him before noon, and lay down, reaching out to wrap his arms around his wife. Cool sheets touched his hands where her body should have been, and he groaned. One clear thought raced through his head and that was I'd better go find her.

The bedside table holding his glasses seemed too far away, so he nixed the idea that it might be good to see where he was going in lieu of the thought that Haruhi might be lost inside this monstrosity his father called a house.

How annoying he thought to himself as he stumbled through the halls by memory, every twist and turn burned into his brain since childhood. Maybe this is why Tamaki surrendered her to me so easily. It must have been too much of a pain in the ass to find her and rescue her from her klutziness every five minutes.

Kyouya, however, did not thing so. A memory flashed in his mind of Haruhi falling with the ocean beneath her. Tamaki had run so fast that Kyouya had barely enough time to turn around and react with shock. (Not that he would have; showing surprise was beneath him.) Despite what he had told her, he had been angry with her, but there was no reason to reveal that. It was irrelevant to the conversation. Sort of.

He sighed. Where could she have gotten to? All of her usual nighttime spots were dark or devoid of human life. He sat on the sofa in the main room of his family's quarters. He had no idea what time it was and his wife was missing. Great.

A sound drew his eyes toward the French doors letting out onto the pool deck. They were open. He panicked. Another memory appeared of her falling once again. (She seemed to do that falling thing a lot.)

She was wrapped in layers of heavy brocade that flew in the wind. The top of her head poked over the ruffled lace around her neck. She seemed to move in slow motion and Kyouya could only think, Oh, shit.

Tamaki caught sight of his falling heroine (the only one besides himself who could work riddles in her head faster than lightning could flash) and turned to rescue her.

His mind worked quickly. Tamaki would not be her hero this time; not this time, or ever again. He yelled at the Host Club king to go for the crown, and he threw his glasses to one side, diving in after the flailing Haruhi. Small hands gripped his as his arms wrapped around her…

…and he lifted her out of the water.

Thunder rumbled over head, and she coughed and sputtered. Kyouya wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. She was such a fool.

“What do you think you're doing?!” he growled.

A crack of thunder caused her to squeal and cough some more. He sighed and pushed himself out of the pool, Haruhi in hand. A servant ran out of the house holding two white fluffy towels. He snatched them away and snapped at her to leave.

“Haruhi!” He was sitting on the tile of the first floor bathroom by now, and had the love of his life in his arms. It pained him to think that he had almost lost her. (This was, what? The third time?)

She shook in his arms as lightening lit up the room, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry!” Tears now mingled with the rain and chlorinated water, and Kyouya could stay angry no longer.

“Haruhi, what were you thinking?” He whispered it gently as he pulled her tank top over her head and wrapped one of the towels around her.

“I couldn't sleep and it was so quiet outside. There were no birds, or crickets. I just wanted to sit outside, but before I could make it to a chair, there was thunder. I ran. It was stupid, and I should have thought beforehand, but I didn't. I slipped on the tile and fell into the pool. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Stop that.”

The sharpness of Kyouya's voice caused Haruhi to look up at his face. It held relief, and fear. Shame washed through her.

“Stop apologizing, Haruhi. You did nothing wrong. I only wish that you had woken me up instead of going out.” He gathered her into his arms while she wriggled out of her sleep-shorts and took her to their bedroom, laying her on the bed.

She was so small and he just wanted to hold her. He knew she wouldn't want that though. She hated being babied, so he just pulled out one of his t-shirts for her to sleep in. Kyouya stumbled across something on the floor and it occurred to him that he had left his pants in the floor after the gala the night before. (He had been too tired to toss them down the laundry chute.)

Haruhi was suddenly at his side, holding him up best she could.

“You know Kyouya, the damsel in distress is not supposed to save the hero.”

She was smiling now, and all of the fear was gone.

“I'm not exactly a hero. All I did was dive in after you. A hero would have caught you before you had even made it in.” Which he should have done. If he hadn't been so damn stupid and sleep deprived he would have realized that a power outage, caused by those damned thunderstorms the weather service predicted earlier, would cause him to wake, he would have been there to catch her before she fell in. He knew she had only been joking about the hero/damsel-in-distress comparison, but he felt that he should be her hero. He wasn't exactly brave, but he was brilliant, and the surplus of brains should have made up for the lack of courage (courage in the white knight sense) and helped prevent the accidents, even if he couldn't protect her from them.

“You are a hero. Whether it matches your ideal or not,” She reached up and laid her hand on her face, “you're my hero and that's all that matters.”

“Almost.” He said, and put an arm around her waist, and leaned in, kissing her until neither could breathe.

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A/N: Not sure if that one made any sense, but I've wanted to do a one-shot/drabble using that song for a while now and this was the perfect excuse. Hope you enjoyed it. It really isn't my best.