Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Sleeping In ❯ Sleeping In - Chapter Twelve - Overheard ( Chapter 12 )

Sleeping In

by Palatyne

Chapter Twelve

Overheard

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.

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If she had any more energy to spare, she would be running. She would run as if the very ground under her feet were on fire.

Yet now, as she neared the refuge of her house, she could only manage a slow walk, her mind spinning with thoughts unbidden, the words she heard still echoing within.

She had not meant to hear them. She had come from the teacher's lounge, in consultation with one of her teachers regarding a paper she was tasked to write. The slew of special activities that the Host Club did the past weeks had taken a toll on her studies. Her teachers were not alarmed, but she did not want to give them the wrong impression. She was at Ouran out of charity but under the condition that she make the most of her stay and be worthy of the scholarship so rarely given. She was a special student after all.

She was on her way back to the Music Room. Unbeknownst to her, two people were also on their way out.

She heard the raised voices and knew immediately who they were.

Tamaki-sempai.

Kyouya.

She had heard them argue before, or that is, they were constantly arguing. She was used to it. Everyone was used to it. But as she neared the corner and as their voices became clearer, she knew this was not like any argument they ever had.

At the sound of her name she froze.

They were arguing about her.

It shocked her, and the rest of their argument was drowned out by the din in her own mind, and the sudden, frantic pounding of heart.

Even now she could no longer remember most of what she heard.

But Kyouya's words were clear.

I already know what I want.

If she were a little more naïve, she would be reeling now in utter confusion. If she had heard the words weeks ago, perhaps now she would indeed be running, frantic to escape the torment of such words.

Fleeing from the feelings such words stirred within her.

Yet as the words replayed themselves in her mind, she felt them to be true. Never mind that a small part of her mind was still uncertain, still clinging to the thought of all of it being a scheme, of his words being no more than a ruse - the honeyed words of a host.

Weeks ago, that voice would have been loud and clear and virtually ringing in her ears.

But now her mind would go back to all that had happened between them in the past weeks, all that had changed, all the words that he spoke to her, all the time he had spent with her.

And one memory would surface among all others.

The memory of the moment their lips touched, the memory of the kiss that started it all.

She couldn't remember when it made sense to her. She felt now as if she had known it all long. She had simply been too stubborn, too frightened of the truth in his words, afraid of the truth in his actions.

She had stopped running away. It was not an entirely conscious decision, but rather more like a gentle yielding. Ever since that afternoon they spent together, it was if a burden had been lifted from her, like the bag of miso he so effortlessly carried back into her house.

She now felt more at ease whenever she was with him, the confusion and uncertainly that plagued her before.

She trusted him, believed him, and being with him now felt different.

She wondered now if he knew this would happen. If he knew that he had the power to slowly but surely tear away at her resistance, at the walls she had built around her.

At times she thought perhaps she had simply tired out, resigned herself to being pursued by him.

And pursue her, he did - subtly, discreetly, never in plain view of the rest of the Club. But he was relentless and he made sure that she knew exactly what he was trying to do. It was not by chance that he had been eating lunch with her all but every day in the last week. It was no coincidence that they would be designated together in most of their hosting work. It was not sheer luck that had him spending every spare minute he had with her.

And whenever they parted he would give her that same teasing, half-smirk - because he knew she was no longer avoiding him, no longer passive, no longer running away.

She couldn't anymore.

Not even if she wanted to.

The seed of uncertainty she had sensed that morning after the kiss, the small spark of some unknown feeling she had tried hard to suppress, grew traitorously inside her - fed by her doubts, strengthened by her denial and now unraveling in her heart.

And when she heard his words, she knew they were true.

She trusted him to be true.

Now, it was no longer about what he wanted.

But even as she willed her heart to consider, she could not help but heave what seemed to her were a lifetime's worth of sighs.

I already know what I want.

Momentarily distracted from her thoughts, she was not a little surprised when she realized she had reached their apartment without her even noticing. She trudged up the stairs leading to her house, mechanically going through the all-too familiar routine.

But as she closed the door behind her, she sagged weakly onto the floor, her back slipping against the door.

Okaasan.

She called to her mother. Always in her times of distress she would call to her. But if the scant memories of her mother she had were to be trusted, she knew she would be laughing now at her daughter's predicament.

She would laugh at her daughter's foolishness.

But then, maybe she would smile too.

For at long last, Fujioka Haruhi had finally figured it out.

Gingerly she reached into her pocket for the cell phone the twins had given her long ago, programmed with the numbers of all of the Host Club members.

She only needed one.

She knew now what she had to do.

But if she could be a little more honest, then she should say that she had known for a while now.

Perhaps she had known that evening when they walked back to her house.

Or perhaps she had known that day when his warm hands soothed hers, half-burned by the tea she had spilled.

If she were completely honest, true to the deepest corners of her heart, she should say she knew even before that.

She had known the moment his lips touched hers.

She sighed some more.

“Okaasan, maybe I know what I want, too.”

To be continued…

Postscript:

It occurred to me to write this little note after publishing Chapter 11. I have long realized that many readers have various and numerous expectations as to how certain threads of the plot should go, or rather, aspirations as to certain relationships or interactions (e.g. some of you were asking/expecting/wondering about Tamaki's place in this story).

Alas, it is inevitable that some/many of those expectations will not be met. You have mentioned so many more threads of the plot, twists and angles that could be explored and elaborated. There were so many comments and suggestions and observations about certain aspects of the story that I found intriguing and wanted to pursue (a few of them, I actually did pursue and incorporated into the narrative).

However, the truth is, Sleeping In was envisioned to last no more than five (5) chapters. It extended this much mostly to address many of the earlier comments/expectations/suggestions as to how the plot should go. So in many ways, some/most of you have helped me craft this story or at least gently steered me to a certain direction.

But, this story must end. The ending is largely unchanged from when I wrote the first words. In many ways, it's very different from the rest of the narrative (especially the later chapters) - but in many ways too, it's the one chapter that truly reflects what I wanted for this story.

Thank you very much for reading, reviewing, waiting patiently for every chapter of Sleeping In all these years.

Just one more chapter `til the end.

Thank you!