Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Sleeping In ❯ Sleeping In - Chapter Three - Asleep,Awake ( Chapter 3 )

Sleeping In

by Palatyne

 

Chapter Three - Asleep, Awake

 

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club. The original manga story, characters and plot belong to Bisco Hatori, Lala, English editions to Viz Media and the anime to Bones, et.al.

 

 

Acknowledgements: Thank you so much to all those who read and the two or three people who sent reviews.

 

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Chapter Three - Asleep, Awake

 

 

Kyouya Ootori was lying almost perfectly still on the large plain white-sheeted bed the hotel had specifically provided for his use. He lay languorous, his arms behind his head, his eyes closed as though asleep.

 

He had carefully chosen a hotel that had no known or hidden connections with his family - although he had to admit to himself that he could never be certain, as any company or individual not previously allied to the Ootori could be effortlessly persuaded, threatened or bribed.

 

Feuding with his father was not an easy task, but it was virtually a war of silence. Not once did he receive a call from his father or his attendants, not even his own brothers.

 

He was not by nature, a rebel. He had been the most obedient and the most determined one among his brothers - the stigma of being the youngest, the spare of the spare, forever hanging over him. He thought of his life and his future as one big challenge, a struggle to meet and go beyond the expectations of the people around him.

 

He did all, planned all, so that one day his father will speak to him not as an indispensable offspring but as a prized son and heir.

 

He was, in other words, the perfect son - before he finally realized that there was more to his life, than simply the Ootori fortune. He had been shown, by Tamaki, by the Host Club, that he was capable of creating a life and planning a future for himself.

 

And it was through his slow awakening, that he realized, there was something worth more than gaining his father's approval, than inheriting the family fortune, than becoming the heir which he had always thought to be his one goal, his stolen birthright.

 

There was friendship - with Tamaki, and the Host Club, and honesty, in him and with others.

 

There was freedom - from his father's control, from the shadow of his birth, from the expectations of his social status and his rigid upbringing.

 

Yet the most important realization of all, was inspired by the words of someone he had never expected to come into his life.

 

 

“I think, Kyouya-sempai is very admirable.”

 

 

He had already planned a future devoid of any influence from his father. Yet out of respect for the man who raised and molded him into what he was and out of his own cautiousness, he remained at home and under his father's will, albeit reluctantly.

 

For a while he thought that his father understood his actions, that he was aware of his subtle act of emancipation. But his father's last order proved him wrong. Yoshio Ootori was still bent on subjecting all of his sons to his will.

 

The incident was one that burned into his memory, and the mere recollection of it was enough to stir up his anger.

 

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Apart from the sound of clinking silverware and the subdued footsteps of the dinner servants, the large formal dining room of the Ootori mansion remained deafeningly silent.

 

An Ootori family dinner was a formal affair, executed with pomp and ceremony that rivaled royal protocol. Kyouya and his brothers were educated and trained to display nothing less than perfect decorum in every occasion, all their movements and gestures performed with elegance and accuracy.

 

“Kyouya.” came Yoshio Ootori's summon. It was his way of commanding his sons' attentions, to speak their names in a distinct tone.

 

“Hai, Otou-sama.” Kyouya answered almost mechanically.

 

“It is time, I believe, to think of your future.” It was a common opening line in their conversations. It was how the elder Ootori phrased his commands. Kyouya remained silent, as was the routine, waiting to hear more.

 

“That special student in your school, what was her name?” His tone was questioning, but all in the room knew that Yoshio Ootori didn't give out questions to which he didn't know the answers.

 

Kyouya was momentarily stunned but was quick to recover. His mind raced with thoughts of the possible motives of his father. His mind scanned his father's recent actions and his words, trying as quickly as he could to figure out his sudden interest in Haruhi.

 

Haruhi.

 

Instantly, as if on cue, a suspicion came to him and he felt his anger rise.

 

“Kyouya, did you hear me?”

 

“Hai, Otou-sama. Her name is Fujioka Haruhi.”

 

The elder Ootori's brows furrowed slightly at his son's delayed reply, but even so continued.

 

“Hmmm, Fujioka. Not connected to anyone important. But I hear she is extremely smart…”

 

Kyouya remained silent.

 

“…a little eccentric, judging by her penchant for male clothing. But not a serious condition, I hope.”

 

“Her father is an okama.” He offered, testing just how much his father knew.

 

“But I hear her mother was a lawyer.”

 

So he knows much more…

 

It was a game that his father was a master at, playing with words, decoding messages that remained unspoken, gleaning information between the lines. Yet Kyouya was not a novice at it, he was after all, trained by a master.

 

“You hear? You seem to know so much about her, Otou-sama. Why are we discussing Ha-Fujioka-san?”

 

He had almost slipped, nearly referring to Haruhi by her given name. Doing so would give his father too much information. His anger was now rising dangerously, fueled by his suspicion. It took all his effort to keep focused.

 

My anger would give him leverage...

 

The suspicion was slowly taking shape. He knew his father would not bring up the subject of Haruhi for no reason. He had heard about her, he was certain. He probably knew as much as he did. After all, the events during the festival were thoroughly investigated by both the Ootori and Suou families.

 

He had seen her himself… and how she defended me.

 

His thoughts were interrupted when finally the elder Ootori revealed his intent.

 

“Very well, I will not mince my words. I want Fujioka Haruhi to be your wife.”

 

Kyouya swore inwardly. It was as he thought. He had suspected the moment his father mentioned Haruhi's name.

 

You have controlled everything in my life, and now this…

 

“You need not marry well. That is your brothers' duties. You need only to marry right, and I believe Fujioka Haruhi will be an asset to the Ootori.

 

He felt rage coursing through him, but to show any emotion, any hint of his disquiet would be dangerous. His father could use it against him.

 

Or he could use it against her…against Haruhi…

 

He tempered his rage and sought to learn more of his father's intention. Even as he sat calmly on his chair, with all the appearance of politely listening to his father, Kyouya Ootori's mind was racing, planning his next move. He decided to stall, to extend the conversation.

 

“Am I not too young for this, Otou-sama? I am still in high school.”

 

The elder Ootori seemed to be once again irritated by the question but was not deterred.

 

“Of course, I am simply planning ahead. What I want you to do, is to make sure that Fujioka Haruhi goes to no one else.”

 

There was a moment of tense silent, before finally, Kyouya replied.

 

“I see.”

 

I see that you wish to control my future completely…and even Haruhi's future.

 

“You do understand then?” Yoshio asked, expecting his son's compliance.

 

Summoning every ounce of calm left in him, Kyouya uttered his reply with perfect courtesy.

 

“I understand perfectly, Otou-sama.”

 

The conversation was over, and once more the dinner table was in silence.

 

He had already decided to defy his father.

 

Three days later, he packed a suitcase full of clothes and left the Ootori mansion.

 

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Remembering the last conversation with his father stirred his anger but it also helped him to focus. Although he was calmer now than he had been the past weeks, he felt not the slightest regret in leaving the Ootori mansion.

 

His acquisition of the medical company - his father reneged promise - would enable him to be financially independent. Everything was going according to his plans.

 

Still, he could not deny that his sudden estrangement with his family was not affecting him. His newfound liberty was both exhilarating and exhausting, and it was taking its toll on the very things he valued - his relationship with the Host Club.

 

Less noticeable, perhaps, was his sudden penchant for staring at Haruhi. Of course, he had always been concerned with the doings of every member of the Club. But the past weeks, he had been almost incapable of controlling his impulse to look at Haruhi.

 

He was attracted to her, that he was always certain of. He knew she was a girl the moment he laid eyes on her - there was no mistaking it. He still could not understand how Tamaki and the others missed it.

 

He could never miss it. She looked more a girl to him than any other female in the entire Academy.

 

But every day he grew more and more aware of something else that was taking hold of him - and it nearly always led him to thoughts of Haruhi and uncertainty. It was something which made him want not just look at her, but to want her to look at him as well - to gaze into the warmth of her brown eyes.

 

He knew he had to force a measure of control. He filled his days with school work, and the rest of his time he spent looking into his medical company - he had withdrawn all managing rights from his father.

Still, in quite moments, he would think about her and slowly his uncertainty would give way to a quiet realization. He was slowly beginning to understand why his father's last order enraged him so much.

 

He was careful not to be negligent in his work with Club, but he knew that he was becoming ever more distant, always so occupied and busy.

 

So it was not a surprise to him that Tamaki and the rest of the club worked out an idiotic plan to get him to hang out with them. He just didn't expect them to try to ruin his sleep again, to go to another commoners' event.

 

Those idiots simply refuse to learn from past experience.

 

He was not to be trusted to act sanely when without sleep and he had to admit that he was barely conscious when he phoned the security office. He realized, though a little later, that banning them from the building was overkill. He only meant to scare them from trying again too soon, but his generous patronage of the hotel must have been the cause of the staff's overzealous protection of his privacy. Either that, or the hotel management simply wanted the Host Club off their backs.

 

Still, he felt guilty and he knew that none of them took kindly to their being banned from the hotel. He could already see Tamaki's stricken face, Hikaru and Kaoru's indignant anger, Hunny's childish tears and Mori's…expressionless face.

 

His guilt had led him to finally rise from the bed and take a bath. He had decided to find the Host Club and find some way to make amends - although he would never apologize. However, he had been halfway done with dressing up when he realized that it would be much more interesting to see what the Host Club would do.

 

He knew they wouldn't stay put for long, they will have found some way to get to him - or get back at him, if the twins were in charge. Whichever way it would turn out, it would be vastly interesting.

 

So for the past hour he simply lay on his bed, thinking and waiting.

 

Now, however, he was starting to think that he had been waiting for nothing.

 

He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost noon. He could only assume that the Host Club had found no way to get into the building and had simply given up. Business matters were still waiting to be attended to, and he decided to waste no more time waiting.

 

He was almost off the bed when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing from outside his bedroom.

 

“Finally, those idiots.” He muttered under his breath. Swiftly he moved back to the center of the bed and carefully propped himself into what he thought was a believable sleeping position. He lay perfectly still, eyes closed and he waited. He decided it would be more interesting for them to find him asleep once more.

 

To his surprise, he noticed that the footsteps were unhurried, soft and more importantly, it seemed to be that of only a single person. The sound of the footsteps ceased, and for a long while there was silence. Until once more the soft footsteps resumed and he heard them to be coming closer and closer to his room.

 

He heard his bedroom door swing open, and once more the soft footsteps, then another long pause.

 

Then he heard it, a soft, gentle and familiar sigh. His heart skipped a beat in surprise, yet he remained perfectly still, waiting to hear the familiar but certainly unexpected voice.

 

Haruhi…

 

“Kyouya-sempai?”

 

It was indeed Haruhi. He wondered at once if she had come with the Host Club, but she seemed to be alone.

 

Haruhi called out to him once more, but he remained still.

 

Of all people…it had to be Haruhi…

 

The thought of Haruhi being so close was stirring up things he had been trying to set aside. Yet, he felt energized and strangely excited. He wanted to see how Haruhi would react, what she would do. Somehow, the prospect of her reaching out to wake him was not at all unpleasant.

 

She called out to him again, in a louder voice, and again he lay still. To his amusement he heard her mutter “Mou” in exasperation. There was a pause, then once more there was the shuffle of footsteps and he realized she was moving closer to his bed. Then once more, she stopped.

 

He heard her take a sharp breath, almost a gasp, before she cried, “Kyouya-sempai!”

 

There was terror in her voice and he had almost shot up to see what was wrong, seized by his own panic at her cry, but he was stunned immobile by what Haruhi did next.

 

He heard a soft thud on the floor at his bedside and swiftly a pair of gentle hands pried an arm away from his body. Gentle fingers felt gingerly around his wrist, searching, he realized, for a pulse.

 

She is checking to see if I am alive?

 

Cautiously, he opened his eyes. He saw that Haruhi had closed her own eyes to concentrate on his pulse. Her brows were knit closely, reflecting her anxiety.

 

It was then that he realized just how close he was to Haruhi.

 

He could almost feel her soft breathing. He could see every detail of her face, her dark lashes pressed against her lower lid, the soft curl of hair behind her ears, the fringe over her forehead. Her lips were parted slightly, and he could see that she was breathing more heavily than normal.

 

He had not been this close to her for a long while and it unnerved him - he felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest and on the point where her fingers felt his pulse.

 

Her touch, the feel of his skin on his was burning him. He felt a sudden urge to reach his hand to touch her face, to smooth away her furrowed brows, to trace his fingers on her lips.

 

Haruhi…

 

Instantly he felt slight remorse over his trickery. The small hand which held his wrist gently, was trembling slightly.

 

I have made her worry.

 

Cursing himself he decided to stop his ruse and confront Haruhi. Yet he decided to be casual, and intoned his words in the laziest voice he could muster.

 

“So, what's the diagnosis?”

 

He watched as Haruhi's eyes flashed open and saw to his amusement, how her large brown eyes became even larger as she practically gasped his name. It took all his effort not to smile.

 

“K-Kyouya-sempai!”

 

She swiftly released his wrist, letting it drop on the bed, from which she had also managed to jump away from, causing her to lose her balance. The utterly shocked Haruhi fell gracelessly on the carpeted floor.

 

“What are you doing here, Haruhi?” He asked, raising himself up to a sitting position. He looked worriedly at Haruhi, somehow, he did not like the thought of her plunked on the floor like a rucksack.

 

“Well you see, Tamaki and -”

 

Suddenly, a more important thought crossed his mind.

 

“Wait. How did you get in here?”

 

 

To be continued…