Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Rubbing The Lamp ❯ Ch 17 Calling in the Cavalry ( Chapter 24 )

Disclaimer: Ouran Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori. I make no profit off this story. If Bisco Hatori-san wishes, I will remove this from the web upon her personal request.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

Week 67: scent memory. Scent is the one sense that can trigger the strongest memories - and the emotions equated. Have someone smell something that causes a reaction based on a memory.

 

 

 

Her temper kept getting the best of her. The worst part was she had no idea why.

 

Earlier this week, the twins had offered her some espresso and she'd about snapped their heads off. She knew they were just being kind, trying to show her a better coffee than her instant granules. Apologizing to them later was uncomfortable - especially since she had no idea why she was so opposed to espresso in the first place.

 

Then, the next day, Huni was eating some cake and a bit of whipped cream got on his cheek. Mori had wiped it off. It was a typical thing for the two of them. Yet, as she watched, she felt her heart clench and she quickly ran to the bathroom crying. For no reason!

 

And now. Now she was cleaning up the wet mess and broken cup off the floor while her father sulked in the other room. She was seriously going to have to make this up to him.

 

She'd been studying for her exams. And he was just trying to be kind, to help her relax as she studied. So he'd brewed a pot of tea. Cinnamon tea. He'd meant it as a special treat - she'd really enjoyed it the one time they shared it with their dessert on his last birthday. She'd said it was calming.

 

Tonight when she saw the tea, her eyes lit up and she thanked her father before turning back to her books. But then, the scent hit her and she popped upright.

 

Her father had smiled, thinking that she was pleased.

 

In her head, her brain relived dancing, sweating, nearness - silk whispering against her skin, cinnamon breath whispering on her neck, her lips. She gasped and put her fingers to her lips, hoping to recapture the feeling. The heated look in his eye as he dipped her…

 

But it was all a lie. A manipulation.

 

Without thinking she took the cup of cinnamon reminder and dashed it against the wall where it shattered, sending its liquid contents spraying all over.

 

At the instant of crash, she realized what she'd done and looked up at her father wide-eyed. “Oh. Oh, Dad. I'm… I'm so sorry!”

 

His eyes teared up. “I… thought you'd like it.”

 

She spent fifteen minutes trying to explain - but how to explain without explaining the rest. For some reason the smell reminded her of something… that she didn't want to remember. She started crying in her apology - and that pissed her off. Why on earth was she crying about this? It was all that cold, manipulative bastard's fault. And that made her more upset.

 

Finally, Ryoji had cocked his head as he looked at her, and then he'd said, “It's okay, baby. I understand.” He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. He had no idea who the young man was who had his daughter so flummoxed, but he'd find out. “Why don't you draw yourself a bath and I'll clean up the tea, okay?”

 

“It was my fault, dad. I'll clean up.”

 

He nodded, knowing better than to argue. “Then, I'll go get your bath ready. It will do you good to relax, okay?”

 

And so, she cleaned. And the smell of cinnamon assaulted her senses, brought her back to a moment in the past that she tried to tell herself meant nothing - because it meant nothing to him. Right?

 

God, he had to be the best actor in the world.

 

Except, she'd seen his face when she stepped out of the practice room. Desperate. That hadn't been acting.

 

No. The acting had come after, when he'd seen her there. When he'd put on his normal mask of indifference.

 

And he'd dropped out of school.

 

Okay, he hadn't really dropped out. It was just that he wouldn't be there for the rest of the year. There was no reason for Tamaki to believe that Kyoya was never coming back. But Tamaki did think that. He thought that it was because Kyoya couldn't face them all now. That wasn't the official story, though, so it could easily be part of Tamaki's fantasy world.

 

Except.

 

She didn't really believe that.

 

She thought Tamaki was probably right.

 

And she thought that it was just what Kyoya deserved for playing them all.

 

Except when the memory of tea hit her, that's not what she thought. Not at all. With the scent of cinnamon, with the memory of whipped cream on the face, with the thought of espresso, she thought he was a lonely, beautiful boy desperately reaching for something.

 

It hurt her heart. Why was he in so much pain? If only…

 

But he deserved it. He didn't really care about her. Not like she…

 

And that was the crux of it. As she finished cleaning up she realized she couldn't avoid it any more. That was the reason she was so upset - the reason it was easier to forgive everyone else - because she cared more for him.

 

And damn it all to hell! How had this happened anyway? What was wrong with her? She *must* have something wrong with her. She could be in love with the twins - get two for the price of one. She could have a man who would always greet her with a smile and find the best side of things - just so long as there were sweets around and he wasn't awakened too early. She could have fallen for a broken prince who was desperately seeking acceptance that she could give, acceptance that would make him forget his grandmother's ire. She could have the strongest man she'd ever met - the most honorable man who would never rest until she was happy and would be willing to kill anyone who made her so much as frown.

 

So why was it that her heart said no? Why HIM? Damn it. Damn it! It was stupid and she wouldn't… She'd just have to get over it because he just didn't care. And that was that.

 

As she dumped the paper towels and the cup that was shattered beyond repair into the garbage, the doorbell rang.

 

For some reason, seeing Tamaki on her porch did not surprise her at all.

 

She waved him in. Once he was seated, she inquired with her usual blunt directness, “So what brings you by, Tamaki?”

 

He smiled at her lack of honorifics. They were friends. “Haruhi, I came to ask you to go see Kyoya.”

 

And the smile went away just that fast. She sat upright and her lips tightened. “No.”

 

“Why?” he asked quietly. He was smiling a sad smile.

 

She shrugged one shoulder. “Why should I?” She wouldn't look at him. Her voice was tight. Too tight. And Tamaki's smile grew as he heard it.

 

“You know, Haruhi, you forgave the rest of us so easily, but not Kyoya. It's been bothering me all week.” She began to retort and he held up a hand to forestall her interruption. “Now, I know that he's the only one who didn't agree to drop the wishes, he's the only one who wouldn't admit that he should give up. But you've always been very forgiving - you've always looked for the underlying reasons behind things.

 

“But for some reason, you don't seem to want to find it with Kyoya. And I have to wonder about that.”

 

She folded her arms but didn't answer.

 

“Why do you think that he would be so unwilling to give up a pursuit that was so unwise? He doesn't do that. He looks for solutions - wherever they may be. You know that. He's always scrutinizing every angle and proceeding only with the plan that seems most certain. So why? Why push toward the third wishes when it was clear he wouldn't succeed?”

 

She looked up at him expectantly and he rewarded her patience - or stubbornness - by continuing. “I went to see him today, Haruhi. Fuyumi called me, worried out of her mind. He hasn't left his room since he took the exams on Monday. He's been trying to keep himself awake - He's had way too much espresso to be healthy, and I don't think he's had anything else. He's killing himself, Haruhi.”

 

Haruhi looked him up and down, arms crossed and then rolled her eyes.

 

He slammed his palm down on the table. “Damn it, Haruhi! Don't you even care?”

 

She shrugged and looked aside guiltily. Her brow was furrowed the way it always did when she was worried. But still, she replied, “He doesn't care what I think.”

 

“I never thought I'd ever say these words to you, but… don't be an idiot!” He was hissing at her now and she jumped a little. “He's in love with you. I don't know if you feel the same about him, but please come talk to him. If only to let him know you don't hate him.

 

“Or, if you really do believe that this has nothing to do with you, then *prove me wrong.* Come with me to see him and prove it to me.” His face grew sad and his eyes softened. “Please, Haruhi. If you really don't care about Kyoya at all, then please just do it for me. He's my best friend. Please!”

 

Finally, she looked over at him and took in his tense posture, worried expression. He really did believe that Kyoya needed her. If only… Sighing, she stood up. She wouldn't leave Tamaki like this. “Dad, I'm going out. I'll be back soon,” she called over her shoulder.

 

Tamaki stood up and hugged her. “Thanks, Haruhi.”

 

She shrugged again and put on her shoes and they left the apartment.

 

In the other room, her eavesdropping father smiled. “Kyoya, eh? My daughter has good taste at least.”