Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Love Letter for Haruhi ❯ Chapter 3...Journey to the Center of the Locker Room... ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of OHSHC, they all belong to Bisco Hatori. Though I wouldn't mind Mori, or Kyouya, or Tamaki…hell, I'd take them all if they were up for grabs!

 

 

 

Love Letter for Haruhi…by taterbean96

 

 

 

Chapter Three…Journey to the Center of the Locker Room…

 

 

 

 

Haruhi trailed after a casual Kyouya as he walked up the hallway that would take them to the men's locker room. Haruhi kept shooting apprehensive glances to her sempai. Obviously no one would think twice about seeing Haruhi in the mens locker room, but her overworked conscious and blossoming female urges told her she might think twice…or at least look twice…

 

“Uh, Kyouya…tell me again why we're doing this…?” She asked, trying to mask her unease.

 

Kyouya's dark eyes slid to their corners, his devil smirk lifting his lips. Did he like seeing her so ill at ease? She wondered miserably.

 

“I told you, we need to kill two birds with one stone.” He explained smoothly.

 

“Yeah, but…” she started again.

 

The pair came to a stop at a junction in the hallway. One left turn would take them to the end of the corridor where, in Haruhi's imagination, dozens of stripped down bodies would be showering.

 

“Look, Haruhi, Kaoru and Hikaru deposit their bookbags in their lockers before lunch because they have Phys Ed right after.” Kyouya explained to her once again.

 

“Can't we search their bags another time…” Her attempt to keep her voice steady was failing. She wasn't mentally prepared to walk in on damp, steamy bared male bodies; her heart began hammering.

 

Kyouya sighed, a bit exasperated. “No, Haruhi. This is the best chance we've got.”

 

 

 

Haruhi's hands began to fidget in front of her, her eyes not able to focus on any one thing. Kyouya, slightly amused, watched her onset of jittering nervousness.

 

“Maybe it wasn't them, you know. Now that I think about it they'd never write me a love letter…” her high pitched words were falling from her mouth like a swollen waterfall.

 

Kyouya's warm hand on her shoulder instantly began to ease her jerky twitchiness. “Calm down. The locker room will be empty when we go in.”

 

Haruhi perked, her thundering heart mellowing under Kyouya's grip.

 

“Really? Oh…”

 

Foolishness took uneasiness' place. If she'd been rational, she'd have realized that Kyouya wouldn't drag her into a room full of half-naked men. She suddenly became very aware that he hadn't removed his hand from her shoulder. More aware that she liked it there…He was grinning down at her warmly, his dark eyes soft.

 

“Okay now?” he asked, finally lowering his hand.

 

She nodded, a pleasant heat trickled like water from where his hand had just been down into her knees, which became wobbly and began knocking.

 

Haruhi blushed. “Hai, thanks.”

 

Kyouya turned and poked his head around the corner. “Alright, let's go.”

 

Haruhi followed him on her jellified legs. This wasn't good. If she let a simple thing like a touch turn her into liquid, how was she ever going to face down and refuse an enamored host? She groaned with internal dismay.

 

Kyouya opened the locker room door, exposing an undiscovered world to the wide eyed Haruhi. Rows of polished wooden benches ran the length of the room, facing six foot high lockers. They were the size of a personal closet. Haruhi was forcibly reminded how overly fortunate the rich were…

 

A light steamy mist hung in the air, but there was no smell of sweaty bodies; no sign of anyone at all. Kyouya was right, there was no one around. Relief swept the small gender bender.

 

“Over here.” Kyouya directed, leading her to the twins lockers. “They each have their own locker, but you know Kaoru and Hikaru, they share everything. Their book bags should be in one…” Kyouya told her, lifting the handle to the locker.

 

True to his word, two bags hung in one locker. Haruhi's brow lifted, impressed. He was good. Her knees shook; the pains he took in knowing the ins and outs of all his friends was, too say the least, admirable.

 

“Here.” Kyouya handed Haruhi a book bag. “Look in this one, I'll take the other.”

 

Haruhi unsnapped the bag and flipped it open. Beautifully stitched in silver thread was Kaoru's name. The textbooks spoke of the classes he'd be attending that day. She began rummaging through, finding a notebook of white paper, pens, the basic student accessories…

 

“Oh!” she gasped softly, glimpsing blue in the bottom of the bag. Diving deeper, she hauled out a notepad of blue stationary. Her heart lodged in her throat. Kaoru…?

 

Kyouya looked up from Hikaru's bag, his eyebrows arched in surprise. More than Haruhi had expected him to show, anyhow. He recovered, taking the paper from her.

 

His eyes scanned it quickly. “It's not the same.” He said, reaching inside his jacket, he extracted the love letter.

 

Unfolding it, Kyouya pointed to something small and gold in the corner of the letter.

 

“The paper we're looking for has this kana symbol impressed into it. Kaoru's doesn't.”

 

He handed the notepad back to Haruhi, who let out the deepest sigh of relief she'd ever exhaled in her life. Thank God. She couldn't stand the thought of having to reject Kaoru; the imaginary pitiful look on his face was already destroying her.

 

After a few more moments of searching, they came up empty handed. Replacing the bags, Kyouya led Haruhi out of the locker room, back into the school corridor. His chin was clasped between his fingers, planning their next move.

 

“Kyouya-sempai?” Haruhi said, a little hesitancy to her tone. “I…I didn't notice that symbol before. What is it?”

 

Kyouya showed her the letter. Sure enough a small golden kana, the letter K to be exact was in the bottom corner.

 

Kyouya chuckled at her. “You were too star struck by the poem to notice anything else I take it,” he teased. “Kaoru seemed the best option, given the K.”

 

Haruhi, relaxing at his easy humor, threw her head back, laughing. “Or K, for Kyouya.”

 

Kyouya suddenly fell quiet, setting her with a firm stare that cut her amusement short. He looked like he had something on the tip of his tongue to say, probably wanting to scold her, for not noticing the apparent clue sooner.

 

A deep pink blush colored her cheeks. Kyouya steeled himself against the cute innocence she exuded, although it did create a warm, squirming sensation in his belly.

 

“Sorry.” She apologized softly.

 

“It's ok.” He told her, falling once more into his proper role. “Let's meet after the Host Club activity today. We can go down to the gym. Mori will be in kendo practice, a perfect opportunity.”

 

“But, Kyouya,” Haruhi said as they set off up the corridor, “shouldn't we give up on the hosts? The letter K could be…”

 

Kyouya cut her off quickly. “I still think it's a host. This paper could've been borrowed from someone else.”

 

Haruhi nodded, resigning herself to the fact that Kyouya was almost always accurate in his deductions; a trait that she admitted was very alluring. As they came to the junction in the hallway, about to part to their respective classes, Kyouya turned to her once again.

 

“Remember, don't show anyone the letter and when you get the next one, bring it to me immediately.”

 

Haruhi's eyes widened, stunned. “N…next one…?”

 

Kyouya smirked at her, giving the impression that he knew something she did not.

 

“Of course. Your secret admirer has already written you one letter; it's safe to say he's feeling bold. I'm fairly sure you'll be getting another.” He explained matter-of-factly.

 

 

Haruhi, rooted to the spot, watched the Shadow King walk slowly up the hall, hands buried in his pockets, heading for his physics class. Another letter?

 

`Please god,' she inwardly prayed, `strike me down before that happens.'

 

She could barely stand herself now from receiving one letter, how was she going to react if and when she got another? Being torn between detesting the emotional butterflies and wanting her regular stable, romance-less, life back was like being the knot in the middle of a tug-o-war rope.

 

`I really am turning into one of those starry eyed, romance lusting Club girls.' She felt sick with herself.

 

She eyed Kyouya's back as he disappeared around the corner at the end of the corridor; his finger was pushing up his glasses. She sighed. Too bad it hadn't been Kyouya who'd tailored the love letter. He'd be more to the point and tell her to her face at least, laying all this snooping around to rest.

 

A tugging sense of sadness pulled on her growing heartstring. `Yeah, too bad it wasn't him…'

 

 

 

 

Authors Note: I love OHSHC! But I don't own them. Bisco Hatori does, so thank her for all the wonderful characters. I just get to play with them for my nonprofit enjoyment…! Once again, arigato to my mother for editing and spellchecking!