Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Rubbing The Lamp ❯ Ch 3 Mori's First Wish ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: Ouran Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori, not me. I make no profit off this story. If Bisco Hatori-san wishes, I will remove this from the web upon her personal request.

 

I don't own the rights to the movie in question, either. But a gold star to those who recognize it from the first quote!

 

Secondary Disclaimer: All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age. While that might seem unlikely - as three of the characters are only sophomores in high school, I figure it this way: if Bisco Hatori-san can ignore the students graduating for two years in a row and keep everyone in the same grade, I can then apply that logic to their ages. Therefore, Haruhi, Kaoru and Hikaru are just 18. Kyoya and Tamaki are about to turn 19. Mori is about to turn 20, and Huni already is 20. (Therefore, according to Japanese figuring, Huni is the only adult. :P )

 

Written with response to the week 61 Makin' Lemonaide Challenge: How can you tell that someone likes you "like THAT" What signs does the character see when they're with the one they want? How can those signs be interrupted correctly?

 

 

And now for the story:

 

Rubbing The Lamp

Chapter 3

 

Companionable silence. It's a beautiful thing. Usually, on the rare occasions when Haruhi found herself alone with Mori, the companionable silence gave her a comfort that she rarely found elsewhere.

 

But today the silence wasn't quite so comfortable. Not that she didn't trust him - she did. Of all the people in the group, she probably trusted him the most. But she was uncertain today. Uncertain of what he'd want from her. Uncertain that she even had anything to offer.

 

And… Quite honestly, the encounter with Kyoya had thrown her off. What had happened? Or almost happened. When Mori came in, she had felt that something interesting was developing, but she wasn't quite sure what. Because she was Haruhi and Kyoya was Kyoya. So it really just didn't seem to add up. How could it be that she had felt like he was moving closer toward her - like she was moving closer toward him. His eyes had been so dark and full. And then Mori had come in and she'd broken from his gaze and for some reason she'd felt almost… Embarrassed? Disappointed? How odd.

 

Not to mention the fact that Kyoya's task was something that he probably would have preferred to keep to himself. So… where was the profit?

 

She continued chasing herself in circles in her mind until Mori spoke.

 

“We're here.”

 

Where was here? She looked up and saw that they were outside of a movie rental place. She looked up at him quizzically.

 

“There's this movie I've always wanted to see. But…” he blushed furiously.

 

She smiled softly at him. How cute. He was too embarrassed to rent it himself. “What is it?” He told her and she responded, “Wait here,” then went in to pick up the DVD on her own account.

 

She came out and handed the bag to him. “Here you go. It's not due back `til tomorrow, and they have a drop box, so you won't even have to go in.” She smiled kindly. “I think this one might be the easiest task I'm given.”

 

His face faulted quickly but he covered it up with a nod and turned to leave. She noticed his crestfallen expression and suddenly couldn't leave it at that.

 

“Wait!” she called. “Was there… something else you wanted? I mean… I just spent a couple hours helping Kyoya. It doesn't seem fair your wish is that simple.”

 

He smiled quickly, briefly, then blushed and murmured, “I was thinking maybe you'd want to watch it with me.” His bent head hid his visage from her, but she could still see that his skin was pinker than normal.

 

She cocked her head, placing one finger at her lips. “Actually, I've never seen this movie either. I have heard a lot about it though. Would you mind?”

 

His smile grew to radiant size. “I would love to watch a movie with you, Haruhi-kun.”

 

She blushed and couldn't help but look away. When he smiled, he was way too… What was he? She didn't know, but it felt somehow dangerous.

 

They began walking toward his house. Suddenly, Haruhi realized something. “Mori-kun, where's your car? Doesn't your driver usually pick you up?”

 

He nodded and quietly asked, “Was I walking too fast? I could call him.”

 

“No. It's not that. I'm used to walking everywhere. I was just curious is all.”

 

A few more paces were covered with no response, so she figured she'd let it drop. If he didn't want to answer, he didn't have to. A truck drove by just then, as he answered, so she didn't hear his, “Walking means I get to spend more time with you.”

 

As they continued on, they passed a flower vendor and she smiled softly as the display of irises caught her eyes and their fragrance filled her nose. Sometimes her mom would bring home a vase of flowers - just “to brighten the place up a bit.” Usually it was just a small bunch of irises, and the scent was imprinted on her memory as a reminder of her mother.

 

It would have been nice to buy her some. The way she looked at them so wistfully hurt his heart. But then she might have been able to tell that he was really using the wish unfairly. None of the others were making their wish into a date. They were all just getting a couple hours of her time - that's all - to do random small tasks. At least at this phase.

 

He thought about the deal they'd all struck the other night - about how much they'd had to drink. He never would have agreed to it if he hadn't been truly ploughed. And spurred on by Huni stating that Haruhi liked him. Huni always tried to make him feel better about everything - especially when it wasn't true. Still, it had been wonderful pretending while under the influence. Even if it had made him strike a deal that was born of the devil himself.

 

The thing of it was, though, he knew it wouldn't matter in the end. It was incredibly unlikely that she would agree to fulfill all 18 wishes. She never compromised on what she thought was important. And she would never be intimate with someone she didn't love. Then again, he COULD see her being intimate with someone with whom she was not IN love. Because for her, love in and of itself would be good enough. But for her first time? No. She would want to save that. He was certain of that.

 

So it was okay to ask for her first two wishes. And spend as much time with her as he could in the process. Even if it was wrong to take advantage of the wishes, he would. She… soothed him. And spurred him on to such thoughts and desires that he'd never felt before. For her, he'd… Well, he couldn't think of anything he would NOT do. Not anything. For her.

 

Thoughts have a way of taking less time in your brain than they do to explain them. All of this came and went in a flash, as they continued past the flower shop. And then another thought occurred to him. He might not be able to buy her flowers without her getting suspicious, but he could probably buy her dinner. That would make it even more of a real date. He smiled.

 

“Hungry?” he asked.

 

Turning, she smiled at him. “A little.”

 

“Wait here. I'll get something for us to eat while we watch the movie.”

 

She waved her hands, “You don't have to do that.”

 

He just shook his head at her, gave her his little smile and said, “Be right back.” And then he took off across the street.

 

Mori was just so nice. She'd have to do something for him. But what? She wasn't even capable of paying back her debt - instead, he was giving her the easiest of tasks, allowing her to enjoy a movie with him, and even buying her snacks. The guilt that she'd felt the day before resurfaced. She didn't have it in her to blame her father for his inability to manage money. That was just who he was. But still, part of her did wish that she could have just had a way to pay off her debt. So that this wonderful person didn't have to suffer because of her.

 

Someday… Someday she'd graduate from college, and she'd become a famous lawyer. She'd make lots of money - she might even be useful to her new friends. After all, people with money needed lawyers more than people without. So she could finally - finally - be truly helpful to these odd boys who had no idea how the world worked outside of their small but rich world. That day was one she looked forward to greatly.

 

She was caught up in her thoughts, smelling the irises and trying to not think about how they'd developed an Alladin defense just for her, trying not to think about what the next set of tasks would be, when he returned.

 

“Let's go.”

 

Mori never used any more words than absolutely needed. When he did speak, everyone listened. Some of the other club members could benefit from following that type of philosophy. She smiled and fell into step beside him.

 

He now carried two plastic bags. She was probably only expecting snacks like pocky and ramune, but he'd actually bought her dinner. Because, after all, that's what you did on a date: dinner and a movie. If he was going to do this, he was only going to hold back if it might upset her.

 

Before he could really think too much about it, they arrived. His place was not nearly as large as Suoh's or Ootori's, but comparing it to the small apartment where Haruhi and her father lived was like comparing a bottle of water to Lake Superior.

 

They walked in the front door and were greeted by a servant. “Master Takashi, welcome home. Oh! You have a guest! Is this one of your classmates?”

 

He nodded. “Maeko-san, this is Fujioka Haruhi-san, a first year student at Ouran.”

 

The maid bowed politely. “It is a pleasure to meet you Fujioka-san.” She turned back to Mori. “Will your young friend be staying for dinner?”

 

“Oh, no! I couldn't impose like that,” Haruhi interrupted.

 

Mori held up his bag. “Please tell the cook that I won't need him to make dinner tonight. We'll eat this while watching TV.”

 

Haruhi cocked her head - was he planning on skipping dinner to just eat snacks? Maeko, however, noted the printed logo on the bag and commented, “I'll bring some tea and some plates for you.” She turned and headed for the kitchen as Mori led her into a small room (well, small for the size of the mansion it was within) with a large-screen television across from a beautiful kotatsu table. He gestured for Haruhi to sit at the table, and as she was becoming situated, he put the disc in the DVD player, grabbed the remote and sat down next to her.

 

By the time he was seated, Maeko entered and set up the table with a fine tea set and a dinner place setting in front of each of them. Mori immediately set to work pulling out the trays of expensive sushi he'd picked up at Sushi-dai. Haruhi was frozen in stunned silence as the table before them was transformed into a display of the most beautiful sushi she'd ever seen.

 

She turned her astonished gaze upon him and he blushed, muttering, “I felt like sushi.”

 

“Is that…” Her eyes fell upon the platter of ootoro - which she'd still never gotten a chance to try. Her look was that of a child gazing into the window of a candy store, and he couldn't suppress a small pleased smile. He'd bought more ootoro than he normally would have - in the hopes that she would like it. There were also other pieces - unagi, tamago, suzuki, tako, sanma, mekajiki, hamachi, kurodai, kappa, ikura, ebi - in a mixture of maki and nigiri. He had bought a lot of different kinds, thinking that maybe she wouldn't figure it out: his goal was simply to give her a chance to try the ootoro she'd always wanted.

 

“I thought you might like it.” Simple, understated Mori. She reached forward to serve herself, and then hesitated, pulling back. It was rude to go first.

 

Maeko caught her hesitation and smiled. “What a polite young friend you have,” she said as she excused herself from the room.

 

“Please,” Mori gestured that she should help herself, so she reached out to place a few pieces on her plate. She looked at him again and he nodded, so she opened her mouth to take a bite.

 

She'd always wanted to try this incredibly rich tuna, but had never been able to afford it. The simple tuna she'd tried had always been good, but she couldn't help but wonder about the delicacy of ootoro. From the first time she read about it, it had triggered her curiousity. Would it really be so much better than regular tuna - like the book said? Most of the things she'd seen in the life of the rich were completely overrated. Would this also be the same?

 

As she bit down, her eyes got really wide. He stared at her, wondering if that was good or bad. She continued chewing, slowly, slowly. Then finally she swallowed and turned to face her host. His anticipation was almost palpable - had she liked it? He so hoped so. It would be wonderful to give her something - something no one else could. He was giving her a first taste of ootoro, no one could repeat that. But it would be much better if she liked it.

 

“So good!” she breathed, and he sighed in relief, smiling broadly at her. Then he turned and began to pour tea for them both, served himself, and encouraged her to take her fill. “I… might have bought too much. So eat as much as you want,” he said softly before turning the television and DVD player on.

 

She smiled broadly at him, and settled back to enjoy a leisurely dinner and a movie.

 

As the beginning credits began to roll, the infectious theme strumming along, a thought struck her: dinner and a movie. Wasn't that what people did on dates? A date with Mori. She blushed and tried to cover it by taking another bite of ootori. Holy heck this was the best tasting thing she'd ever tried in her life.

 

But he knew she had wanted to try ootori - all the club members knew that. And so he bought her dinner under the guise of a snack? So he could allow her the chance to sample this delicacy for the first time?

 

She was supposed to be doing a task for him, not he doing a task for her. Looking over at him, he looked so happy, gazing up at the screen of the TV, popping an unagi nigiri sushi into his mouth. When, in all the time she had known him, had he ever looked this happy? Was it possible that it was doing this - bringing her sushi and watching a movie - that was making him happy?

 

While part of her felt even more guilty - first she practically steals from him by breaking that cursed vase and not being able to work off her debt in time for his graduation and now he was doing nice things for her - another part remembered all the nice things he always did for Huni. Maybe… Maybe he just enjoyed doing things for people he cared about and, being rich, rarely got the opportunity. After all, she liked doing things for people she cared about, but being poor made it difficult for her to be able to do as much as she liked.

 

For those he cared about… But that would mean he cared about her. The thought for some reason was making her feel…

 

Well, of course it made her feel happy. He was such an amazing person. If he truly did care about her, that would be an honor. Still, somehow she felt more than just honored by the thought. She graced him with one of her biggest smiles and turned back to watch the movie, enjoying her tea and sushi all the while.

 

The beautiful woman on the screen stumbled around her apartment and finally opened a suitcase to pull out a phone which she proffered to the dashing young gentleman.

 

Haruhi laughed and whispered to Mori, “She's as scatterbrained as Tamaki-san.” Mori smiled back at her for just a second before the movie drew them in again.

 

“Poor old cat. Poor slob. Poor slob without a name. I don't have the right to give him one. We don't belong to each other. We just took up one day. I don't want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together…” the lilting voice on the screen continued on, but Haruhi was lost at that point.

 

`Exactly,' was what her mind was thinking repeatedly. `Someplace that fits. Somewhere I can live and… And then I don't know what, but…' Inside she knew, that was what her heart was longing for.

 

As she was thinking, dreaming, these thoughts, the beauty on the screen continued her speech, “The blues are because you're getting fat, or it's been raining too long. You're just sad, that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid, and you don't know what you're afraid of. Don't you ever get that feeling?...”

 

`Too well,' Mori thought. `The mean reds. But lately, I've been thinking maybe I do know what I'm afraid of…' He turned and looked at the girl next to him. She looked somewhat sad - more melancholy than he was used to and it made his heart hurt. Did she get the mean reds, too? He surreptitiously slid closer to her - close enough that he could feel her near him, but not so close that he might accidentally touch her.

 

And then, the woman onscreen had begun rambling on to apparent nonsense again, and the two were struck once again with how Tamaki-esque this woman was.

 

They nibbled on their sushi and let the movie wash over them. When the woman decided she'd call the man - Paul his name was - Fred just because he supposedly reminded her of her brother Fred, they both laughed out loud. She really was like a female Tamaki.

 

Sometime during the party scene, Haruhi leaned forward and poured them both some more tea. When she sat back again, somehow her thigh was brushing up against Mori's. He gasped softly as he felt it, but steadfastly refused to look at her, or pull away. It was… so warm. He hadn't been prepared, hadn't realized she'd moved back so close to him. Besides, when else would he get the chance to spend a whole movie touching her. He smiled and tried to concentrate on the movie while part of his brain was singing joyfully at her touch.

 

Soon there was the scene with the woman playing guitar and singing on the stairwell. Both viewers smiled softly.

 

When the woman's husband showed up, it was a shock to them both. And then at the bus station, she spoke, “It's a mistake you always made. Trying to love a wild thing. You were always lugging home wild things… A hawk with a broken wing, a full-grown wildcat with a broken leg... Remember? … You mustn't give your heart to a wild thing. The more you do, the stronger they get until they're strong enough to fly into a tree, then to higher trees, then to the sky.”

 

They didn't let themselves think about the implications of that. They focused on the movie more intently, but somehow their shoulders were now touching as well.

 

Soon it became apparent that the poor woman in the movie just kept chasing after money, but it kept eluding her. She had the potential to find love. The poor “kept” man - the man who wanted to be a writer, but had fallen into a similar trap, gave of himself to some rich married lady who paid for his apartment and food and lifestyle - he had fallen for the Tamaki-like woman. He was quiet but proud. He made mistakes, but eventually he did the right thing. He gave up on being “kept.” He decided to support himself. And he loved her.

 

It was so sad. He was silently standing by her as she prepared to go off and marry another. And when she found herself betrayed yet again - both by the “darling old man” who she visited every week in prison AND by her prospective fiancé, he was still there. But she ran. She ran from him. She took her poor cat and tossed him out into the rain, unceremoniously.

 

When that happened, Haruhi couldn't help but gasp, pulling both hands up over her mouth. The man who loved the woman agreed. It was the last straw. He told her off, but good. He left her.

 

And then… the woman broke. She ran out into the rain. She searched for the cat. After all, what she truly couldn't stand was being alone. Just when she gave up on the cat, it was there. She picked it up and cried, and then the man reappeared. He held her and they kissed, the cat smooshed between them.

 

It made Haruhi smile. The woman finally found her place. Perhaps it was because she stopped running. But… perhaps that was something to think about another time. The credits rolled on the screen and she turned to see Mori gazing upon her.

 

His countenance was a mixture of joy and… something else. He moved his hand over top of where hers lay on the ground and gently clasping it said, “Thank you for watching this with me.”

 

“I… I enjoyed it, Takashi-kun,” she said softly. For some reason it was difficult to breathe at that moment.

 

The two of them leaned subtly toward each other. Their eyes were locked onto each other.

 

And then, abruptly, Mori pulled away. He stood and offered his hand to his companion. “May I escort you home, Haruhi?”

 

Haruhi.

 

Her name. So intimate.

 

What was going on here? Why was her heart beating so fast?

 

“Of course. Thank you.”

 

And then, like the gentleman he was, he took her arm, escorted her to the limo, and rode next to her in silence. As they pulled up to her house, and she got out of the car, he stopped her, took her hand again - this time in both of his own.

 

Nervously, she began to speak, “It doesn't seem fair, you know? I was supposed to grant you a wish and instead you bought me ootoro and watched a beautiful American classic with me…”

 

He cut her off by bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it as if it were as delicate and fragile as a butterfly. “This night,” he said softly, “This night was a wish come true.”

 

She backed away from him, dropping his hands. Eyes wide, her face was a picture of shock. Then she turned and ran toward her house to try to figure out what it all meant. Part of her brain scolded her, “Am I Holly Golightly now?” but she wasn't ready - wasn't ready to understand.

 

He smiled sadly at her back, closed the door, closed his eyes, and rode home in the ever present silence that was his constant companion.

 

 

 

 

(AN: For those who read this and freaked out and saying, “Japanese people do NOT eat and watch TV at the same time. They take time to eat properly, focusing on the food and enjoying the flavor. It is by this focus that they manage to not gain the extra weight that we Americans pack on so easily. Yes, yes. You're right. But this is fanfiction. And do you honestly think that Haruhi would easily be swayed into staying for dinner AND a movie this early in the game? Perhaps, but it's my story and for some reason she was giving my muse a devil of a time at getting into it all. So. Grant me artistic license and pretend that some Japanese people do eat and watch TV. Okay? Thanks.)