Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Rubbing The Lamp ❯ Ch 19 Say it when you know you're awake ( Chapter 26 )

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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 20

 

Of course there was a supply of unopened toothbrushes in the bathroom cabinet. They were rich. He probably used a new one every day. She brushed her teeth with the minty-fresh toothpaste.

 

It just didn't make sense. How could he smell of cinnamon if his toothpaste and mouthwash were mint flavored? It was a mystery.

 

She washed her face and looked around the bathroom suite. Ridiculous. Who needed a bathroom this large? Of course, the tub was gigantic. She could just imagine soaking in there. It would be quite nice at the end of a hard day - so she really couldn't begrudge him for it. She might splurge on something like that if she had the money, too.

 

Turning, she looked at herself in the mirror, chiding herself, “Stop stalling.”

 

It all seemed just too unreal. Kyoya loved her. But why didn't he just tell her? Why try to pass her off on everyone else, too?

 

(Dummy. Because he thought he'd never have a chance. You heard him. You know him. He really just thinks of himself as a third son. Every time he struggles with getting ahead, he's not just trying to prove his value to his dad - he's trying to prove it to himself, too. That's why he only does things to benefit friends, not himself.)

 

And he could have really, truly killed himself over this. This wasn't just a joke. It wasn't Tamaki out in a fantasy world.

 

Over the past week, he'd lost at least 10 pounds - maybe as much as 20. And he really didn't have that kind of weight to lose. Dear god, he was so gaunt now. The phrase “Shadow King” took on a whole new meaning. He was like a shadow.

 

If only he'd come to her - why didn't he come to her? Then again, why didn't she come to him, confront him? She usually confronted problems head on.

 

She was as much to blame for this. Her hand clutched at her heart. The thought of how far he'd have gone if she hadn't come was terrifying. If it hadn't been for Tamaki…

 

Oh, no! Tamaki! He was probably still waiting in the hall to hear what happened.

 

Quietly, she opened the bathroom door and looked over to check on Kyoya. She smiled at the peaceful expression on his sleeping face. Releasing a satisfied breath, she snuck over to the door to his room, opening it carefully, quietly.

 

Stepping out into the hall, revealed that no one was there. That was strange. Where were they? Footsteps running toward her caught her attention and she turned toward the sound. Coming down the hallway toward her were Fuyumi and Tamaki.

 

Both were smiling and crying in relief.

 

“You did it!” Tamaki whispered.

 

“I'm so happy for you,” Fuyumi said softly and hugged her.

 

With her usual confused head cock she inquired, “How did you-”

 

Tamaki picked her up and swung her around, “We saw it all from the security room.”

 

“What?!” she exclaimed and slapped her palms against his shoulders, pushing him away from her. They watched her kiss him? Oh, no.

 

“We have monitors in every room - in case of an emergency,” Fuyumi explained. “We usually have them running on a cycle - just taking quick snapshots on a regular basis when the room is empty - with motion detectors to turn them on if there . We, of course, always have the option of turning the cameras off in any room that we're occupying. But with Kyoya refusing to come out of his room and acting so oddly, I had the security guard override the setting and start monitoring him constantly on Thursday.” She sniffled, “I was so scared when I saw him like that.”

 

Haruhi stammered, “So…”

 

“We saw and heard everything,” Tamaki said, smiling softly. “I told you he was in love with you.”

 

She waved her hands like she was going to deny it.

 

“Haruhi, it's okay. I… I want you to be happy. You and Kyoya are my best friends in the whole world. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out. It was all right there in front of me. So many signs. When I saw Kyoya today, I couldn't deny it anymore.” He smiled sadly at her. “You're in love with him, too. That's why you wouldn't forgive him. That's why you were so hurt. Right?”

 

He looked her up and down, as if seeking and finding confirmation before he continued softly, “If you can't love me like that, I'm glad it's Kyoya.”

 

“Ta- Tamaki, I…”

 

He hugged her to him tightly and held her there for several minutes. She wrapped her arms around him as well, and he thought he heard her whisper, “Thank you.”

 

Then, he broke away from her and with the brilliant smile for which he was famous, he said, “Okay then. I'm going home now! Studying to do. You know. Call me if you need anything.” And then he spun away and left her standing in the hall with Fuyumi.

 

A small bundle of clothing was thrust into her arms. “These used to be mine. Clothes to sleep in tonight, and some to wear tomorrow.” The woman hugged her tightly again. “Thank you, Haruhi. If there's anything you need, just call one of the servants. Kyoya will show you how.”

 

“But… But I can't… It's not right - I can't sleep in his room. And… I have to… My dad!”

 

“Tamaki already called him. He said to give Kyoya his love, and to tell you not to worry - the bath won't go to waste. Oh, I almost forgot! To turn off the cameras in his room, just press 5655 on the console next to the door.” The older girl winked at her.

 

“But…”

 

She wasn't provided with the chance to make any other comments. Fuyumi had already spun her and pushed her back into the room.

 

Grumbling, she began to make her way to the bathroom to change into the provided sleeping garb.

 

Abruptly, she stopped. Were there any cameras in that room? She hadn't seen any.

 

Sighing, she walked over to the console by the door, lifted a hand - and then paused again. Whatever were they going to think of her, turning off the cameras so early? She couldn't do it.

 

Grumbling to herself about rich bastards and their extravagant need to know everything, she went over to the bathroom and climbed into the shower and changed there.

 

The sleeping clothes consisted of a silk yukata that whispered over her skin. It was a deep plum in color with white plum blossoms embroidered along the white collar and cuffs. It was beautiful - a little big on her, but she tied it in place as best she could. Then, she carefully folded her clothes and set them on the stool in the room, cell phone still in her pants pocket.

 

There was nothing else to do. She could delay no further.

 

“Stop stalling!” she once again chastised herself

 

And really, there was no need for her heart to be pounding in her chest as she entered his room. Sure, she'd be sleeping next to the man she loved - who apparently and unexpectedly loved her to distraction. But that's all - she was just doing it so that he wouldn't get any sicker. There was no reason for her to be thinking about her dreams, no reason to be so conscious about how the simple untying of one cord would leave her naked except her underwear.

 

Nope. No reason at all.

 

Swallowing hard, she opened the door to his bedroom.

 

The evening still had surprises in store for her, it seemed. As she walked through the door, she was greeted by the sight of a team of maids noiselessly cleaning up the debris from Kyoya's week of self-punishment.

 

Two of the maids were set to the task of gathering every spare espresso carafe and cup and quickly removing them. Two more bustled around, wiping down every flat surface, removing any espresso rings that may have been left behind. The last one gathered the crumpled up pieces of paper and deposited them into a plastic garbage bag. Cautiously, so as to not wake the sleeping demon prince, she whispered to the maid gathering the paper, “What are you going to do with those?”

 

The maid smiled and came over to her, keeping her voice equally as quiet, “They're garbage, so we're going to shred them and throw them away for the young master. Just like we do with any papers we find in his garbage.”

 

Suddenly, Haruhi couldn't bear to see that happen. These were the pieces of paper with all his writings about her on them. “Please,” she said in full voice as she reached out and grabbed the maid's sleeve. The maid looked at her, startled at the louder voice. “Please,” she whispered, “don't throw them away. Could you just… set them aside for a while? I… I'd like to see what he wrote. I'd… I'd make sure he gave you consent before I saw anything, of course,” she quickly amended.

 

The maid smiled at her kindly. “Of course, Fujioka-sama. We'll set them aside until you can ask the young master.”

 

“You know my name?” she asked, surprised.

 

Nodding, she replied, “Fuyumi-sama told us not to disturb you but to bring you anything you might require.”

 

“Oh.”

 

The maid turned and finished gathering the last of the papers, then ushered everyone out of the room, nodding at Haruhi as she closed the door.

 

And here she was at last, standing next to the bed of the man she loved as he slept, preparing herself to join him. Sleeping in her senpai's bed was something she'd never really even considered doing. And having his sister and his cleaning staff happy about it... This was… just so beyond odd. She should -

 

A yawn struck her and she decided it was too damned late to be thinking, much less worrying. She'd missed a whole night of studying and if she didn't get some sleep, chances were good she'd not get much done tomorrow either. Nodding to herself at her practicality, she lifted the covers and climbed in next to him.

 

The hollows in his cheeks were very apparent as he lay on his back. `Kyoya,' she whispered his name in her head. `Oh, Kyoya.' She wanted to run her hand along his face, feel the impression that his worry had caused and fill it up - if only with her fingers for now - but that might make him wake up.

 

So she contented herself to just lie on her side and watch him as he slept. As she stared at Kyoya's sleeping face, she noticed his eyes were moving under the lids in REM sleep, and his brow was furrowed. When his head started shaking in negation of whatever visual his dreams were playing, her own brow tightened in response. “Kyoya, you're not supposed to have nightmares with me here. If you still have them, what do you need me for?” she whispered. His face relaxed into a smile at her words, and she chuckled.

 

“Are you sure you're not awake and just playing with me?” she asked, but there was no response. Perhaps she was just being paranoid. His brow crinkled again and she curled up under the sheets, reaching one hand over so that it rested softly on his shoulder. “Good night,” she said and slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

X

 

He was having the most unusual dream. He was reliving their “date” - he and Haruhi were out on the dance floor. Only this time, when he dipped her, his face merely centimeters from his own, giving rise to that thought which on their real date had caused him to pull her upright and put his cold mask back on - this time, he allowed that thought to be spoken out loud.

 

“I love you, Haruhi,” he said breathlessly.

 

And before he could gasp at his slip up, her eyes widened and she whispered, “You do? Really?”

 

And then he'd stood up quickly, thinking he'd made a mistake, that now she'd tell him that her debt was the only reason she was there and that she could never love someone who would hold a simple accident against her, hold her as an indentured servant. He turned away from her.

 

In the middle of his movement she quickly grasped his hand, clasped it in both her own, drew it to her chest. And then she breathed, “I love you, too.”

 

Her words fell on him like a soft, cool breeze on a hot summer day. A part of him he hadn't even realized was tense - tense like a guitar string tightened an octave too high - loosened. Quickly, he turned to her, pulled her to him in a tight embrace. Burying his nose in her hair, he breathed in her scent. She always smelled wonderful - he never smelled anything as wonderful as Haruhi. Lightly herbal and clean - so clean. Like spring rain.

 

Her hand tightened on his and he squeezed it back.

 

She breathed out a moan. It sounded somewhat… sleepy.

 

Confused, he pulled back, looked at her trying to figure out why she'd made that sound. “Haruhi?” he called, and she made a noise like that she might make if someone was trying to wake her up. Her hand twitched in his hand, pulled loose and then landed on his flat stomach.

 

The feeling woke him up, but with a scattered awareness of where he was - he was still mostly in the dream. He blinked and tried to focus on his surroundings.

 

He was lying in his bed, so he must be... Okay. It was a dream. Why he was dreaming such odd things?

 

Odd but pleasant, he had to admit. With a satisfied smirk, he realized he felt better than he had in some time. Finally. A good night's sleep - for the first time in probably six months!

 

And every dream that had started out as a nightmare had turned out pleasant instead of making him wake up in a cold sweat. The dream he had of her coming into his room and kissing him had been quite nice. And then there was that last one where she'd actually said that she loved him.

 

His smile faded. It had just been a dream - only a dream. In reality, she probably never wanted to see him again. Now, he frowned. This wasn't like him, allowing himself to get caught in a dream. That was more Tamaki's gig.

 

He shifted to one side irritably.

 

As he changed positions his irritation immediately vanished. He now noticed: a hand rested on him, indicating the presence of someone else in the bed.

 

Frozen and a little bit afraid to move, his eyes popped wide as he realized who it was.

 

Vaguely, he remembered asking her to stay after…

 

After he had told her he loved her. He'd truly thought it was a dream. But she was here.

 

Unless…

 

Rationality required that he address the possibility that he *could* have dreamed it. And she could have ended up here for some other reason.

 

Or, he could be dreaming now.

 

His brow furrowed and he gently removed her hand from where it rested, directly on top of his waistband. It was too dangerous, so intimate that he had to stifle a groan and suppress any inappropriate thoughts.

 

Carefully holding her hand in his own as if it were a fragile flower, he brought it up toward his face. His gaze examined every detail, committing them all to memory. Her hand really was so tiny compared to his own. In her boy's uniform, people didn't notice how slender and delicate she was. And with Huni around, being all cute, her dainty features didn't seem at all out of the ordinary.

 

It was strange how people's expectations colored their perceptions - because mistaking her for a boy seemed the oddest thing anyone could do.

 

He held her hand in his left hand, lightly tracing her fingers with the forefinger on his right hand, memorizing the feel, the shape, the curve of her fingernails, the contours of each finger.

 

“Mmmm,” she sighed and he immediately stopped his actions.

 

“I didn't mean for you to stop,” she said sleepily. “It felt nice.”

 

Her eyes opened just a little bit to see him gaping at her, but she was tired, it was early morning, and his expression didn't truly register.

 

“You're…” Words failed him.

 

“Sleeping. Just one more hour, okay?” she mumbled and snuggled in to his side. Her breathing evened out and she almost instantly fell back asleep.

 

Her body pressed up against his own and he felt the silk of her yukata beneath his hand where his arm had curved around her.

 

Wait. When did he put his arm around her? He didn't remember doing that. And silk? Where would she get the money to buy a silk yukata?

 

Was this just another dream then?

 

He glanced down at her. The yukata she was wearing was deep plum in color - it really emphasized her pale and delicate skin. The white embroidered blossoms were also…

 

Wait.

 

In a flash of memory he recognized what she was wearing, remembered…

 

It had been an interesting shopping trip. Fuyumi was preparing for her wedding and had insisted Kyoya accompany her - to make sure she picked items that were truly attractive. She'd said something about needing a male perspective and he'd responded that it was somewhat inappropriate to be asking her brother to decide what she looked attractive in.

 

But she'd just laughed and said that she wanted to look nice for the people who were most important to her. And since Kyoya was one of those people, then at least if her husband-to-be didn't like the clothes, she'd feel good knowing that *he* at least liked them.

 

And when could Kyoya ever deny his sister anything?

 

So he'd gone. It had not been horribly boring as he'd feared. Because the trip - unbeknownst to him - was to a lingerie store. He'd had a very difficult time not turning as red as a tomato. But he wasn't known as the Shadow King for nothing. He managed to pretend to be unfazed. Mostly effectively. Only his sister had known, teasing him mercilessly to see how he buffeted the comments off.

 

They really didn't make much progress in finding her any evening outfits. She would hold out a negligee and ask him how he thought she'd look in it. He would respond by saying either how inappropriate it was to be asking him, or by shrugging indifferently.

 

Until she'd held up the silk yukata. When she'd held that up, he'd closed his mouth and said nothing. She had to press him hard to get him to grudgingly admit, “It is a good choice. Well made. Delicate yet strong. If I were to marry, I'd want someone who matched that yukata.”

 

Delicate yet strong - these were words that perfectly described one Fujioka Haruhi. And now his brain was pulling up this random tiny memory of a moment from the past to implant an image of Haruhi in his bed wearing Fuyumi's yukata?

 

Did this mean… Heaven help him, he was dreaming again. He had to be.

 

He felt like he was going insane. He couldn't tell the difference between asleep and awake anymore. Her breath was whispering across his chest as she slept, her head on his shoulder, his hand tracing up her back slowly. The silk was so soft and it was all that was separating him from touching her skin.

 

His stupid, stupid dreams.

 

Screw it. If it was a dream, he would make it one of his choosing. If it turned into a nightmare, so be it.

 

Quickly, he rolled to the side, so that she was now on her back and he was above her, just like at the beach house. Her eyes popped open at the sudden movement. Blinking, she tried to take in her environment, figure out where she was and what was going on.

 

“Kyoya?” she looked up at him and saw desire in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

 

“Taking control of my dream,” he whispered before leaning in to kiss her. Her eyes closed as she saw him descend. His lips were soft and gentle, and his tongue traced her own, making her gasp. Instantly, he seized advantage and began exploring the inside of her mouth, his tongue playfully tapping and licking her own.

 

`What a way to wake up!' she thought as she sighed beneath him. Her arms wrapped around his back and she pulled him closer, returning his kiss with fervor. As her fingers worked under his night shirt to touch his bare skin, he shivered from her touch.

 

And then, his stomach growled. Her eyes opened wide and she stared at him as he continued kissing her. His expression was wistful and she realized he'd said he thought he was still dreaming.

 

Determined, her fingers on his skin pinched him - hard.

 

“Ow!” he exclaimed, pulling back out of the kiss. “What did you do that for?”

 

Tilting her head on the pillow, she stated, “So that you'd realize you were awake and so that we can get you some food.” Her hand reached out toward his face, caressing it softly as if to take the sting out of her pinch.

 

He was frozen in place kneeling above her.

 

She was in bed underneath him! It wasn't a dream. Her hand cupping his face, her thumb brushing his cheekbone - he reached up and placed his hand over hers, pressing it against his face as his eyes closed. They remained shut, but he appeared pained as he said, “I'm afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage. I… I'm not very good in the morning, and… I don't quite remember - or rather I'm not quite sure I remember-”

 

Her hand slipped down and covered his mouth and his eyes opened wide.

 

With one eyebrow raised, she said in a crisp, tight voice, “You were a wreck. You refused to come talk to me. So Tamaki made sure I came to talk to you. And then I stayed the night to make sure you actually slept.”

 

With her hand still covering his mouth, he nodded slowly, taking it in.

 

“Now. When was the last time you actually ate something, Mr. Ootori?” She removed her hand to allow him to actually respond.

 

“Um…” His stomach let out a growl that sounded somewhat like two dogs about to fight.

 

Without his glasses, there was no way for him to hide his embarrassment and she couldn't help but chuckle. “Okay, rich man. Breakfast.” Her brow creased in thought, she said, “Do you rich bastards have to order meals in advance, or should I find my way to the kitchen?”

 

A bemused smile softened his expression. “Why don't you go take a shower and I'll get the chef to make us some breakfast?”

 

Her eyebrow raised as she poked him in the chest with one finger and said, “Just don't get any ideas. I slept here for your health, not for…” And then she blushed. It was completely precious. “Never mind. Shower. Right. Going now.”

 

Quickly, she shifted to move off the bed, but he caught her wrist and pulled her back.

 

Leaning in toward her, he paused, inhaling her scent of rain, before whispering in her ear,

“What ideas could you possibly mean?”

 

Rolling her eyes and trying to hide how rattled she really was by… well, everything - being in his bed, being naked in his shower, what was to come next - she said with no little irony in her tone, “Oh, I don't know. Maybe ideas about wishes and me letting you shower with me?”

 

Instantly she realized her acerbic tongue might have been a bit too much, as he went rigid in her semi-embrace. But while she hoped he wouldn't relapse to the state he was in when she arrived the night before, they still hadn't addressed what he'd done and why. He needed to apologize to her if they were to move forward.

 

He pulled back, adding space between them. His eyes scanned her from head to toe, taking in her big beautiful eyes that looked up at him with such concern.

 

“Haruhi, I don't know why you're here, why on earth you would even care when I…” His eyes screwed shut, as if he couldn't go on if he was actually seeing her, and then popped back open and locked onto her with stubborn resolve. “Where is the merit in you being here?”

 

“Hmm…” she said, one finger touching her chin, in deep contemplation. “Well, I suppose this merits my view of self. Would I want to be the kind of person who allows another person to suffer when I can help it?” She watched his face carefully. No one else would have thought his expression crumpled when she spoke. But she knew him better than that.

 

“And there is the fact that Tamaki practically begged me to come over here. It's always meritorious to do favors for one's friends.”

 

“Oh.” He let go of her shoulders as if she were a hot plate that he'd just now realized could burn him. “He… shouldn't have done that.”

 

Burning him with her gaze and freezing him with the cold tone of her voice, she asked, “Why?”

 

“He just shouldn't… interfere.”

 

“That's not what I meant. I meant why? Why did you start the whole wishing thing in the first place? Why wouldn't you let it go? Why did you drop out of school? What were you thinking? What merit was there for YOU in ANY of this?”

 

Sitting up a little straighter, he looked the other way.

 

“Kyoya, I deserve to know the truth. And you need to say it to me when you don't think you're dreaming so that I can respond and you can really hear me. So tell me why.”

 

Glancing up at her, he finally noticed that she didn't look mad. A bit irritated, maybe, but she did not look mad.

 

“I… Haruhi, I…” He looked away again. “There is this image burned into my memory - so deeply that it keeps popping up at the most inopportune times.

 

“My whole life I've wanted things I can't have. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

 

“But this… What I really wanted… I didn't think…” he looked at her for just a second and then looked away. His face was closed and tight as he tried to speak without letting any emotion through. “There was just no way to possibly achieve my real goal. Therefore, I determined that I should seek a new goal. Something attainable. Something that I could talk myself into believing was what I really wanted.

 

“A simple tryst to get you out of my system seemed reasonable. But since everyone else was in love with you, the only way to achieve that without someone trying to ruin the plan would be for me to include them all. Easy. Their actions are child's play to predict.

 

“It could have conceivably worked. Except…

 

“It wasn't what I really wanted. It wasn't what they wanted. I was not only fighting against your inability to understand our desires, I was fighting their affections for you. And my own.

 

“You… deserve better. I can…” he swallowed hard, still not looking at her, “only apologize for how I have hurt you. It is a testament to your character that you would choose to help me after… all this.

 

“And know that I do understand that what I want can never be. I've tried for days to calculate a way to undo this all, to see if there is any chance at… But I know there is not. I will learn to accept it.”

 

He stopped and bowed his head.

 

Silence hung over the room. After what seemed like several minutes, she replied, “You still haven't told me what it is that you want.”

 

Quickly, he turned to look at her, questioning.

 

“Really, Kyoya, how can I address the situation if you refuse to be clear?”

 

Grimacing, he spat you, “You. I want you!” Throwing his hands out exasperatedly, he continued, “I am in love with you. I want you to be by my side. I don't want to face my father without you. I don't even want to be named heir without you. I don't want ANYTHING if it means I can't have you. Is that clear enough?”

 

As he began to yell at her, she cocked her head to the side and slowly began to smile.

 

“So you understand that you are awake right now, correct?”

 

With an irritated expression, he nodded.

 

“So do you want to know what *I* want?”

 

That snapped him out of his irritation. Turning his head slightly so that he could see her expression, his brow furrowed in momentary confusion he nodded again.

 

“I want the man I love to talk to me before he tries anything quite this stupid again. And I want him to get some breakfast. Apparently he doesn't eat when he's worried and upset. I hadn't planned on falling in love until after college, but since it's happened, the last thing I need is for you to go and get sick on me.

 

“Oh, and I want a shower before we eat.” That said, she stood and crossed to the bathroom, leaving a dumbfounded Kyoya staring after her.

 

 

 

 

 

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 )