Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Rubbing The Lamp ❯ Ch 18 Haruhi confronts the demon ( Chapter 25 )

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 68: Tongue Lashings--whatever that means to you

 

Week 72: Bring him to tears! Have her say/do something that brings him to tears, whether he's emotional or not! Don't forget to tell us what happens.

 

Weeks 111-112: You give me fever. Someone's sick. But you know they use that word as an alternate for perverted, too.

 

 

Fuyumi hugged Haruhi tightly when they arrived, and whispered, “Thank you for coming.” Haruhi was stunned. And deep in her heart, she now felt guilty and worried. Kyoya's sister's desperation matched the silent worry of Tamaki.

 

On the ride over, he had pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. When he was done reading it, he rested the crumpled sheet on the seat between them and closed his eyes, stress clearly lining his face. Looking down, she was able to make out a few words: “Stop the dreams-… -have nothing she needs, nothing she wants. … -'d never accept any money/anything from me. … Should I give up my position and nam- … Nothing matters without h- ... -o more dreams- …-can't stand seeing her looking like that. It's not real!…”

 

And then they'd arrived at the mansion. Fuyumi had run out - she actually ran! - to meet them, and Haruhi decided that maybe Tamaki wasn't living in fantasy world.

 

They walked in silence to Kyoya's door. Fuyumi took the keys and unlocked it, whispering, “He locked it again after the last time the maid brought him more espresso.”

 

`He's drinking espresso - which he adores - and these people are worried about him?' Haruhi thought. `He's fine. He always bounces back. Because nothing matters to hi-”

 

And then, she stepped into the room. It was a mess. Her eyes popped open wide. Kyoya could never abide a mess.

 

Kyoya sat over at the desk, muttering, “What do I do? What do I do? I must be missing something. What am I missing?” over and over again.

 

Tentatively, she walked further into the room. Finally, she called, “Kyoya.”

 

He jumped up and turned toward her. And then he turned away. “You're not here. I need more caffeine.” He poured another cup of espresso and downed it in one chug. No savoring the flavor. “I can't fall asleep. I need to figure this out.”

 

She watched him and didn't know what to say. What did he mean, she's not here? “Kyoya!” she barked and he turned to look toward her again.

 

He stamped his foot and threw out his hands. “Why won't you leave me alone? I can't think, I can't figure it out!”

 

“I just came here to help you!” she started, defensive and angry and a bit freaked out.

 

He walked over to her. “You want to help me.” A quick, derisive laugh escaped him. “Of course, that's how you are. You always want to help everyone. You're so…” He closed his eyes and leaned toward her. “God and you smell so…” He grasped her upper arms with both hands, tightly, pressing his face in close to hers. “I can't think like this. You come and you haunt me and I can't think.”

 

Even with the copious amounts of espresso he'd so obviously consumed, she could still smell cinnamon underneath it on his breath.

 

“I can't go on like this. I know I'm asleep again and I need to wake up. I can't take these dreams anymore. Haruhi…” He looked at her with wide eyes and then he pulled her to himself, kissing her fiercely.

 

Then he pulled back and looked at her, as if he were waiting for something; she just stared at him in shock, her chest heaving, one hand coming up to touch her lips.

 

His expression grew confused and he whispered, “Different. Usually this is where you tell me you could never love someone like me. That I deserve one of the brainless bitches my father would like to see me with.”

 

Her eyes grew even wider as she stared at him, trying to figure it out.

 

And then her expression grew angry. She took a step forward and slapped him across the face - hard. “Ootori Kyoya, you are an idiot.”

 

His face relaxed. This was more like what he was used to.

 

“I have spent the last week angrier at you than I've ever been at anyone. You sneak around and you plan and you plan! But you don't talk to anyone. You don't…” She swallowed hard. “I've asked everyone else how they really feel about me, if they're okay just being friends with me. But you! You decided to hide away in your room and not face me. You decided to scheme rather than face what was bothering you.

 

“And what's worse - the thing that's really unforgivable is that you're here, and you're… god, Kyoya! You really are killing yourself!

 

“Is it really that difficult to come talk to me? Do you really dislike me that much?” The last question came out as a whisper. She knew she was digging, hoping for him to deny it. And it felt wrong, it felt deceptive, but he really was killing himself and she had to know.

 

As she began her diatribe, he breathed easier. He'd wake up soon. She'd tell him that she hated him and could never forgive him and then he'd wake up.

 

But she wasn't saying what she normally did. She seemed to be upset more about the fact that he wasn't talking to her - she wanted him to talk to her? Weird. Weird dream. But a week with no good sleep and, he looked around the room, WAAAAY too much espresso… he imagined that weird dreams were par for the course. It would turn into a nightmare soon enough.

 

A sarcastic laugh ripped out of him as she asked if he disliked her. “Well, this is an interesting turn. What the hell game is my psyche playing on me now?” He sat down on the edge of his bed. He muttered to himself, “Am I supposed to admit it out loud - will this help me get some rest? If I say that I can't take the dreams anymore, can't take seeing… I know it will never happen. She could never actually love someone like me. I *know* that's why it always comes back to reality - her looking at me with such... God, what do I have to do to make these dreams go away, let me sleep through the night?” He beat his fist against the bed and his voice began to rise in volume.

 

“If I scream it from the rooftops will that be enough? Will it? Because I admit it. I love her. I love her. I love Fujioka Haruhi. And I want to give her up so that she can be with someone who deserves her, but I just can't, can't, CAN'T get her out of my mind. There! Now will you give me one night's sleep?” He lay back on his bed and covered his eyes with one forearm. His voice, now soft again, cracked and his body began to shake, “Please. If I can never… Just some sleep.”

 

The silence in the room, Haruhi thought it might deafen her. She couldn't think of what to say, what to do.

 

He… he really loved her?

 

Finally, she found herself moving toward him, sitting next to him on the bed. She had no idea what to say.

 

“Do you know your breath always smells of cinnamon?”

 

His arm moved off of his face and he looked to see her sitting on his bed with her back toward him.

 

“It seems I can't even smell cinnamon anymore without thinking of you. And the worst part is that it's been making me so mad. I smell it and then you're not there and I get so angry. It's quite unlike me, really. I don't usually lose my temper for no reason. I'm very rational.”

 

He sat up and laughed a genuine laugh at that. “Right. I've witnessed your calm temperament numerous times.”

 

She turned to glare at him, “I do NOT have a…” as she saw his face, eyes red and tortured, she stopped, swallowed hard.

 

Again, she opened her mouth not knowing what was going to come out and heard herself asking, “Kyoya, did you enjoy dancing with me?”

 

A gust of wind, not quite a laugh. “It was torture. You didn't really want me to hold you, and I wanted…” He trailed off, uncertain how to continue. The nightmare had never lasted this long before - had never offered him this much hope before dashing it all to the floor as impossibility.

 

She turned her head shyly away, afraid to look at him. “I wanted you, Kyoya. But you didn't kiss me at the end. You pulled away. And now, I can't stand the smell of cinnamon because it's not you.” Sitting up a bit straighter, she said, “Kyoya, I…” She turned back to him and said, “I don't want you to be okay with just being my friend. Because I'm not okay with it. If you were just my friend, I'd never… I'd never get to-”

 

Quickly, she leaned in and placed her lips on his. He sighed into her, holding her in his embrace. And then, he pushed her back, gripping her shoulders.

 

“What are you doing? You don't love me.”

 

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Says you. You're not exactly a reliable judge of anything right now, you know. You don't even think you're awake.”

 

“But I'm…”

 

“I thought the slap would work, but apparently, you need the old standby.” She reached in and pinched him hard and he yelped.

 

“What the-!”

 

“You're not dreaming,” she stated matter-of-factly, then watched as his face passed from outraged, to confused, to shocked and scared. Softly smiling, she said, “Now lay down and go to sleep. Fuyumi and Tamaki have been worrying themselves half to death over you and apparently, I'm supposed to make sure you get some sleep.”

 

He looked up at her as she pushed him back to lie on the bed. She made sure the pillow was squarely under his head, tucked the blanket around him, removed his glasses, and then brushed some hair off his forehead.

 

“Sleep,” she said.

 

Then, she stood from the bed and turned to leave. Without opening his eyes, he reached out and grabbed her by the hand. “Don't go. If you're real, really real, then stay. If you're not here, I'll think it was all a dream. Stay with me.”

 

“In the morning, you're going to be all embarrassed and not want me here,” she chided. “You'll want to pretend it was all a dream, anyway.”

 

He shook his head no. “Even if I am embarrassed, I'll want you here.”

 

Sighing, she smiled and said, “Let me just go use the bathroom. But you - go to sleep.”

 

He snuggled in and sighed. For the first time in days, a peaceful smile lit up his face. His brain was too tired to really understand anything other than that he could finally relax. And she didn't hate him. Assuming this wasn't a dream, of course.

 

 

 

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 )