my heart knows me better than I know myself

Tamaki x Haruhi fanfics!

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 19:20:37 GMT

So, sometimes I might post entries for ouran_contest to my TamaHaru journal instead of this one if they are indeed TamaHaru. So, if you want to read those, make sure to check out my Tamaki x Haruhi fanfiction journal: sugaryky.

Ouran: Dream Girl

Fri, 31 Jul 2009 23:10:00 GMT

Well, here's my entry for ouran_contest's "Dream" theme (XDDDD IT RHYMES!). It's TamaHaru again... please don't shoot me for this.

As a hopeless romantic, from an early age Tamaki Suoh had a general idea of what kind of person his dream girl would be. As he had always looked up to his mother, he had always envisioned someone like her; graceful, gentle and kind with her fair beauty and ability to get along with nearly everyone she came into contact with. Tamaki knew that his dream girl was patient and thoughtful as well as fun and spontaneous, and though it was slightly embarrassing as a boy to be thinking of such things, he held onto this ideal well into his seventeenth year.

It was true that Tamaki had always known the kind of person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, just as nearly every young girl dreams up her prince charming. So it came as quite a shock to him that sometime during his second year of high school, midway through his seventeenth year of life, that suddenly the notion of his dream girl changed completely. Suddenly she was someone stubborn and outspoken, who lacked the tenderness he had so long believed he would find so attractive in a woman. His desires changed from someone who was graceful to someone who lacked the general ability to avoid breaking things at times. This dream girl was not a delicate damsel who would often require saving on his part, at least not for conventional reasons. All predisposed notions of feminine beauty were brushed aside to make room for the new notion that despite a lack of feminine wiles, one could still be beautiful beyond all doubt. This sudden change of heart left him more than a little stunned, and he could not deny that the time it started to take place corresponded exactly with the time he met one Haruhi Fujioka.

"Haruhi?" he asked the girl happily, nuzzling up against her as she sat at the table in her kitchen, head buried in books. "How much do you love me?"

"Not now, Tamaki-sempai," she dismissed him with a light sigh, brushing bits of her short brown hair out of her face. "I really have to study for this test."

"You always do fine, darling!" he reminded her, kissing a defiant trail up his lady's face and drawing another frustrated sigh from her mouth. "Isn't it time to take a break? Your poor boyfriend is here pining for your attention!"

Slowly, Haruhi put down her book and turned her upper body in the chair so it faced him. Her hair was mussed from running a distracted hand through it so many times, and the look on her face was one of irritation at him for bothering her when she was trying to study. She was fierce and a bit grumpy and even a little boyish, but Tamaki could not help the thought of how beautiful he found her at this moment.

"Fine," she replied after a long moment, and Tamaki charged forward, barreling into her and capturing her in his arms and nuzzling her. There was no doubt in his mind that he didn't want his dream girl any other way.

Ouran: Nocturne pour Tamaki

Mon, 20 Jul 2009 20:58:32 GMT

This is my entry for ouran_contest's "Better" theme. It's TamaHaru AGAIN and it's an extended ending for the anime, mostly because I love the feeling there was to the last episode and I wanted to do something with it.

"Haru-chan, Haru-chan, Haru-chan!" Hunny is laughing as he twirls the girl around, and her eyes are wide as saucers, the cream colored dress she is still wearing from earlier flapping behind her in the breeze.

"Hunny-sempai, I'm starting to feel sick!" Haruhi warns him, and the tiny blonde slows down a bit, still laughing happily with her hands clasped in his, his pink rabbit tucked into the front of his elegant suit jacket.

"She's trying to watch the fireworks, Hunny-sempai," Kaoru reminds him, but he is smiling and it is obvious that despite all the stress he and his brother went through earlier in the day that now he is content. Hikaru stands beside him like some kind of grizzly war veteran with his arm in its sling, and he too looks amused by the spectacle before them. Behind them, Mori stands like a large, protective shadow with a slight smile playing across his features at his smaller cousin's antics.

"Mitsukuni, Haruhi probably would like to stand and watch the fireworks display," he says, but not unkindly, and immediately Hunny nods in agreement and drops the brunette's hands, his earnest brown eyes blinking up at her for a moment. Kyouya, who stands a little off to the side, smiles and shakes his head at the spectacle.

"Sorry, Haru-chan," he tells her with a large smile. "Now you can watch the fireworks with everybody."

"Thanks, Hunny-sempai," the girl tells him, and moves back toward the place she was standing when the display started; beside Tamaki. Though they stopped dancing several minutes ago, Tamaki is still grateful for her close presence, and the fact that she wants to stand beside him anyway. He nearly bursts with the joy it as her skirt brushes him while she comes up beside him.

"Haruhi!"

Amid the bustle of the crowd, things are far more hectic than usual, but Tamaki laughs happily anyway, his eyes glittering as he clasps his hand around that of the girl in question. The loud blasts of fireworks high above echo through the air, and he can feel them reverberate through his body, filling him with a sense of empowerment, an energy that leaves his cheeks burning with exhilaration.

"What is it?" Haruhi asks, and Tamaki is surprised to find her smiling at him, her face in varying bright hues of pink and green from the constantly changing fireworks overhead. Her fingers are warm clasped between his, and slowly he squeezes them and smiles back at her. In this moment there is a kind of deep contentment that he feels spread over him like the warmth of a parent's embrace.

"I wanted to say thank you," his voice is still soft despite the loud crashes of fireworks, and he smiles wider at her, resisting the impulse to pull her close. She has done so much for him today, more than she will ever know, and he wants to make this evening special. He knows it is foolish and sentimental to allow himself to feel as though they are the only two people in the world, but he doesn't care. It is clear to him now that he is free to be himself with all his quirks, and his friends--no, his family-- will accept him just as he is. This includes Haruhi.

"What are you thanking me for, sempai?" she asks, as straightforward as ever. It takes all of his willpower to keep himself from throwing his arms around her and snuggling her until they both burst. Tamaki does not enjoy holding back, but he supposes he owes her at least this. With a slight smile he squeezes her hand again, and is reassured when she returns the gesture.

"Haruhi..." it is with a kind of shyness that he averts his eyes from hers as he speaks. "I was hoping I could talk to you about it and everything else... in private?"

If she thinks something is up, she does not show it. Instead, she shrugs slightly and nods resolutely. "Okay. Should we go to the music room?" he is grateful that she seems to be up for the idea and that she has even suggested a place that will most likely be private at this time of night.

"Good idea," Tamaki replies, slowly dragging his eyes away from the fireworks and guiding her away from the crowd and back toward the school. As they depart, Kyouya flashes him a look that says quite plainly 'What are you doing?'. Tamaki honestly isn't sure exactly what it is that he is doing, but he gives Kyouya a reassuring smile that he has given him on countless occasions before and continues to lead Haruhi with him, dodging the disapproving look he receives from Hikaru. It fills him with a flash of guilt to steal Haruhi's company away from the others, particularly Hikaru, but he cannot deny himself a private moment with her to share his gratitude. That is all it is, he tries to convince himself, though his heart pounds as they enter the school and her fingers shift against his.

"You know, you don't have to hold my hand, Tamaki-sempai," Haruhi tells him as they head down the empty corridors toward the third music room. "I'm perfectly capable of--"

"I want to," he interrupts with a smile, stroking her fingers with his thumb to prove his point. Haruhi doesn't protest further after his explanation, and he can't help wondering if maybe she doesn't mind. They wander down the dark, moonlit corridors silently, Tamaki's heart pounding inexplicably in his chest like some sort of undersized drum. Haruhi does not seem to be affected by the situation at all, walking alongside him quietly without a trace of his jitters. He can feel her pulse through her fingers, and it is slow and steady, so unlike his own. Unsure why he is so stressed by the situation, Tamaki laughs at himself internally.

'It's not as though anything is going to happen between you two,' his mind reminds him. 'Haruhi is not the type of girl to get caught up in romance...'

The double doors are before them before Tamaki knows it, and he opens them slowly. "Should I bother with the lights?"

Haruhi sucks in a slow breath. "We probably won't be long, right? It takes a while for the overhead lights to come on all the way, anyway. There's really not a point," she wanders forward into the dim room. It strikes Tamaki how different the room looks at night, hit with a whole different glow, something mysterious. Moonlight and clock tower light. As the doors shut behind them, Tamaki suddenly feels like they are closed off in their own little world. It always feels like this to him when the two of them are together, and though he knows he should not read so much into things like this, he can't help it.

After a short silence, Haruhi moves over to the window and stands with her arms crossed, staring out over the grounds. From behind, her silhouette looks tense, and he is aware that she is rubbing at her arms with a kind of awkwardness he is not used to seeing in her. The piano still sits near the window from when he played it the day before, and he takes a seat at the bench, resting his fingers over the keys and beginning to play, hoping to ease the tension he can feel beginning to settle into the air.

Watching Haruhi's back, he can see her beginning to relax almost immediately. Tamaki smiles and throws himself into the piece he is playing. It is a relaxing piece he likes to use for breaking the ice, the same one he played for Eclair the day before. Haruhi slowly drops her arms, and he can almost feel her breathing slowly, as though the two of them are intertwined through the music. Haruhi turns around and watches his fingers on the keys with a kind of abstract interest, and he watches her in turn.

Tamaki can't help but realize now, in this almost intimate moment of him playing the music and letting it flow through her, that playing for her is infinitely better than playing for Eclair. Eclair sat and watched him as though she was judging, looking through to all his insecurities. Playing for Haruhi is completely different. It feels natural, him playing and her watching but not watching, as though she is an extension of the music he is playing. Playing for Haruhi is different than playing for anyone else. There is still a sense that he is playing for his own enjoyment, and she is merely enjoying it because he loves doing it so much. It makes him smile and he closes his eyes, giving himself over completely to the music, completing the illusion that they are connected by it.

As the piece draws to a close, Tamaki opens his eyes to find Haruhi standing beside him, watching him both peacefully and intently. For a moment there is silence, and he wonders if she has drawn as much simple pleasure from the song as he has. "That was... pretty," Haruhi tells him. She sounds sincere, and he beams. "What song was that?"

Tamaki pauses. "It's called Nocturne pour Tamaki," he tells her slowly. "My mother wrote it for me when I was a baby. It's the first thing I ever learned to play. I play it to calm myself down, I suppose. When I can hear that song, it feels like she's here with me somehow. I suppose it sounds silly, doesn't it?"

Haruhi shakes her head, taking a seat on the piano bench beside him. As her warm arm brushes against his, a rush of comfort fills him. "When I was little, my mother used to always bring cherry blossoms in and put them in a vase in the kitchen. I guess I feel the same way when I see the trees blooming in the spring; like she's still here. So no, I don't think it's silly," there is an air of complete sincerity about her as she speaks, and she locks their eyes with a kind of ferocity he doesn't expect before she drops her gaze to the piano keys and speaks with a kind intensity to her soft words. "I don't think it's silly at all."

"Haruhi..." he has rarely, if ever seen this softer, more sentimental side to her before, and it makes him feel impossibly tender toward her. It makes him feel slightly dizzy, and being this close to her is not helping. "I had no idea. I really am... sorry about your mother..." for a moment, he turns his head and manages to catch her eye. He can sense something volatile behind her large brown eyes that he does not think it wise to readily dismiss as nothing.

"It's fine. So, what did you want to talk to me about, sempai?" Haruhi changes the subject deftly, but Tamaki can sense the pain that she keeps so well hidden slowly welling up to the surface. With a sad smile, he humors her anyway. For the moment, he can let the subject drop.

"I wanted... to thank you for bringing me back, Haruhi. If you hadn't come after me, I would have gone away to France and probably never have seen any of you again. I really, really want to see Mother again, but leaving all of you behind for my own selfish reasons was not the right way to go about it. I felt like I was bothering all of you, but when I saw you in that carriage running after me... coming to save me... I knew I must have been wrong. You made me realize I really was needed."

"To be perfectly honest, sempai... my reasons for coming after you were a lot more selfish than that," Haruhi confesses, and Tamaki allows a small smile to creep across his lips, hidden from her by the relative darkness of the room. This new development intrigues him.

"Oh?"

"Well... I honestly couldn't stand to lose you, Tamaki-sempai... I didn't want to think of what it would be like not getting to see you every day. It was something I really didn't want," she is speaking with far more candor than Tamaki himself could imagine using in the same situation, and for a moment it stuns him, makes him feel like he is speaking to an entirely different person. "I guess that kind of 'needing' you is purely selfish."

"Haruhi..." he is completely at a loss for words, and he turns on the bench to face her and give her his full attention. With his cheeks burning heavily, he searches her eyes with his and finds them watching him expectantly. "What do you mean by that, exactly?" it has been a long time since he was aware of his heart pounding his heavily, as though he has just finished an impossibly long race. Somehow, it feels like his heart is more in his throat than his chest.

"Not wanting to share you with Eclair..." she takes in a huge breath and lets it go slowly, as he has seen her do before taking an exam in the past. "...was the selfish part."

Tamaki forgets to breathe for a moment, and when he does, it comes out shallow. He has become so accustomed to flirting and pleasing women that he has taken no time to prepare himself or learn how to behave when faced with a woman who actually makes his heart flip upside down. "Share me?" he asks softly.

"Will you play something else, sempai?" Haruhi asks him, circumventing his fractured question and once again nearly succeeds in changing the subject, but Tamaki catches her this time.

"You know, Haruhi, you can't get out of everything by changing the subject," he says, giving her a rather penetrating look and watching her mentally squirm. Haruhi sighs helplessly, and Tamaki allows the subject to drop along with his fingers to the ivories. Slowly, he begins to play a familiar tune, a soothing concerto by Bach that worms its way into his consciousness. "Do you want me to teach you, Haruhi?"

"Teach me what?" with the music behind it, her voice sounds far more lyrical than usual.

"To play. Here--" Tamaki pauses in the music and reaches for her hands, placing them gently on the keys and curling his own fingers over them. It strikes him just how perfectly his hands fit over hers, and for a moment he does nothing, just sits with her hands under his and focuses on breathing slowly. She doesn't seems to mind nearly as much as he expected, allowing him this brief moment before he sucks in air and gets to work. He guides her hands gently toward the center of the piano. "Now, this key is a D. Press it and then the black one next to it--that's D major-- and then skip one over and play this key--that's an F-- and then come back to the D. Can you do that?"

Haruhi's fingers are unsure on the keys, but she does as he instructed, and the beginning of the piece comes shyly from the piano. "I don't think I'm cut out for this, Tamaki-sempai," she confesses, laughing slightly. It makes him smile that she appears to be enjoying herself with him. It is rare to see her so very relaxed, and he can't help wondering if maybe, just maybe, it has something to do with being so close to him. "That sounded horrible."

"A musician is her own worst critic," he tells her with a smile, and she shakes her head.

"But I'm definately not a musician. I guess I'm just not that 'creative' of a person. Left-brained, right?" she asks, and Tamaki giggles.

"You really believe that kind of thing?" he asks her teasingly with a slight wink. "It's so... superstitious."

"Says the man who refuses to wear red on a Thursday?" she counters, and Tamaki laughs. It is rare to see her teasing him, and he enjoys it. "Tamaki-sempai... you really must take after your mother. Even with me as a student, you seem to be a good piano teacher."

For a moment, Tamaki is breathless, and he can feel his eyes becoming undeniably moist. "Haruhi that's... saying I take after my mother... that's the kindest thing you possibly could have said. I... thank you. I know, I know, I'm getting ridiculously sentimental but--"

"I understand, sempai," suddenly Haruhi's hands are no longer underneath his. One of them has found its way to his hair, and she pats him in an affectionate, almost motherly way. These three words bring him far more comfort than he could ever have imagined, and his self-control crumbles, coming out in a rush of words.

"Oh, Haruhi I... thank you. I've always felt that there was a kind of kinship between us. I know we're very different, but you are the only one who understands. I was a foreigner and didn't really fit in at first, so I was the odd one out here and I've always felt a little insecure about it. And then you come to Ouran, a scholarship student... and I'm sure you felt exactly the same way. And you... miss your mother and aspire to be like her as an adult to keep her close to you and... all of the things that I keep hidden from everyone else... they're the same things as you. Deep down beneath it all, as long as I have you, Haruhi, I could never feel alone." he smiles at the girl who sits before him on the piano bench, looking rather stunned by this sudden declaration. "You really do understand me. In a way, I suppose you could say that you're all I really need."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he is unsure how exactly he meant them and how she will take them, but there is no taking them back now. Haruhi does not speak for a moment. The hand that she was using to pat his hair has frozen. In fact, it feels as though everything has frozen but the fireworks outside the window, continuing on despite everything and coloring Haruhi's face and hair in a million rainbow shades but none quite as lovely as their original colors.

"Sempai..." this is the only word she speaks, and immediately she closes her mouth and seems resolute to say nothing else. This situation is impossibly delicate and Tamaki does not want to fracture it. The feeling in the air is impossibly romantic, and Tamaki finds it odd that he is managing to have a perfect old movie moment with Haruhi and she is not making any dry comments to disperse the mood. She is simply staring at him as though she has finally run out of things to say for every situation, as though this moment is something she can't brush off as she has so many other things.

"Haruhi..." it feels so good to simply fill the silence with her name. He knows that Haruhi is the kind of girl who will never be charmed or swayed by money or clothes or ornate, flowery descriptions of imaginary fairy-tale feelings. What she does respect, however, is honesty, and Tamaki will be damned if he does not at least try to give her that. He will always give a lady what she desires, after all. But he can't help but think that this is something he desires as well after so many months skirting around the issue. Slowly, he brings his arms up around her and pulls her across the bench to him, closer than he would have dared in the past. She comes without resistance, which surprises him. The last time the two were this close, the outfits that they still wear now were drenched in river water, and Tamaki did not even notice at the time, so caught up in the feeling of her closeness. This is not something that he can allow to escape.

Against his chest, Haruhi seems more than a bit overwhelmed. "Sempai, what are you--"

"I'm going to tell you the whole truth now, and as uncomfortable as you might find it, I need you to listen," he breathes deeply for a moment and forces himself to go on. "Haruhi, I didn't change my mind about France because I realized you all needed me and that I wasn't a burden after all. It was because... when I saw you in danger, it almost made my heart collapse. Being far away from you, not being able to protect you... not being able to hold you like this. Those are the things that kept me from going. Nothing else. I only stayed because of you. I want to be with you all the time, and I mean all the time. I want to hold you and talk to you and have times like this when we can just sit together and enjoy each other's company. But I want... more than what just friends have."

"It's... good to be honest about what you want," Haruhi says, but her usual control and calm is gone. She is staring at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise, and her eyes as good as scream 'Do something! I don't know what to do and it scares me!'

Heart hammering impossibly loud in his chest, Tamaki takes the initiative. He tightens his arms around her and takes several breaths before he leans forward. Their noses brush, and he feels as though an electric charge has gone through him. For a moment, they hang in the balance between what has been and what can be, and Tamaki trembles slightly, though he smiles enchantingly and brushes her hair back. "I suppose what I'm saying is that... you don't have to share me."

When he kisses her, it is both awkward and messy. Their noses bump painfully, and then their foreheads. Tamaki is more than a bit embarrassed by having such an uncomfortable first kiss, but he supposes that realistically that this is the way first kisses are supposed to be. Haruhi helps maneuver them into a more comfortable angle, and it is then that the awkwardness melts away and the magic begins. This warm, soft, chaste kiss is what Tamaki is sure is the beginning of something. He is not entirely sure what, but at the moment it doesn't matter. All that matters is how warm Haruhi's lips are and the fact that she is actually kissing him back. She seems bit uncomfortable and a little unsure, but she is kissing him, and it's enough to make him pull her into his lap and hold her impossibly close. It is rare that there is this perfect of a moment where their two crazy lives collide this way, and Tamaki is determined to make the most of it. Slowly, her small fist curls around the front of his jacket and he smiles against her lips and rocks her slightly, tender and perfect and hopeful.

The creak of the double doors opening is the thing that finally shatters the moment, and even as five chattering hosts pour into the room, Tamaki cannot bring himself to stop kissing her. It is only Hikaru's voice that makes him realize that the moment truly has come to an end.

"What's the hell's going on?" he asks, and slowly, Tamaki and Haruhi peel apart and become two separate entities again. Haruhi seems more than a bit uncomfortable now, though to her credit she is not blushing nearly as much as Tamaki is. He is sure that it is obvious to Hikaru exactly what is going on. It is going to take time for his friendship with the older twin to mend itself, but it is impossible for him to feel unhappy tonight.

"We were just..." for the second time in the evening, Haruhi is at a loss for words, and Tamaki finds it both very endearing and very peculiar.

"We came to get you so you wouldn't miss the finale of the fireworks," Kaoru says, rolling his eyes slightly. "It was the old war vet's idea," he gestures fondly toward his brother, who is staring daggers into Tamaki's soul.

"Hikaru..." Tamaki begins slowly, taking several deep breaths. He does not want to say what he is about it say, but it has to be done eventually, and now seems like an appropriate time. "I have... feelings for Haruhi. I know you do too, but I'm tired of hiding mine, and I'm not going to back down. I'm going... to continue acting on my feelings. I know it's going to hurt you, and I'm sorry, but I won't stop." he pauses to glance at Haruhi, who is looking at anything and everything but Hikaru and looking uncomfortable. "And if it's alright with her... I won't share her."

Hikaru stands his ground, though he looks more than a bit wounded and angrier than Tamaki has ever seen him. Haruhi, on the other hand, looks pensive and stares down the piano keys. Hikaru is watching her, obviously waiting for her to speak in turn, and it is with a sigh that she finally looks up at him.

"I'm sorry about this, Hikaru," awkwardly, she runs her fingers across the piano keys, looking as though she wishes she were anywhere else in the world right now. The redhead stares at her for a moment, and then the realization that she is rejecting him sets in. Without a word, he slowly turns and heads for the door, and Kaoru sighs and heads after him, going to pick up the pieces and make his brother smile. Tamaki watches them go with more than a bit of guilt. Though he could resent Hikaru for ruining the moment right now, he can't. This evening is too wonderful and too full of surprises, and so he simply smiles slightly and shakes his head.

"Let's go, let's go!" Hunny shouts, heading for the door, blissfully changing the subject. "We're going to miss the finale, Tama-chan!" and as he, Mori, and Haruhi run after the tiny blonde (with Kyouya following placidly behind), Tamaki laughs happily. It is exhilarating to run, but just as she reaches the door, Haruhi stops in front of him an turns for a moment, smiling at him in an almost normal way, as though she can forget the awkwardness of the situation with Hikaru.

"My answer is yes, sempai," she tells him simply. Tamaki barely has time to grasp what she means before she smiles and laces her fingers through his, looking far more confident than he does. Together they chase after the others. Tamaki knows that no matter what happens in the future, life will, to some extent, consist of the seven of them chasing memories and moments with each other, and it is more than he ever could have hoped for. Eventually, Hikaru will forgive him, things will progress with Haruhi, and the endless cycle of this chase will continue. There is a dim sadness in his chest at the fact that he will not, at least for now, go to France. But at this moment as he runs down the darkened hallways of Japan's most prestigious school with the girl who makes his head swim holding hand, he smiles. He runs with wild abandon with the people who accept him despite all else, and he can look to the sky and laugh happily. Because although France is his birthplace and where his mother is located, he knows that here with the others, he has something even better.

He has home.

Ouran: Pictures of You

Wed, 03 Jun 2009 16:10:38 GMT

This is my entry for ouran_contest's "author's choice" theme. The theme I chose to write on was "Photographs". This is what I came up with. It's surprisingly sappy for being a fic dealing with memories of Haruhi's late mother.

Pictures of you, pictures of me
Hung upon your wall for the world to see
Pictures of you, pictures of me
Remind us all of what we used to be

The soft rain that falls past the window, coaxing in the spring, provides a soundtrack for his work. Ryouji rubs his hands together and surveys the work that stands before him. When he decided this morning to spend his day off from work organizing the closet full of old photographs into albums and frames, he had forgotten the sheer number of them he would be working with. Now, the task seems daunting, but he refuses to allow the stack of boxes before him to defeat him.

“I’m going shopping, dad,” Haruhi informs him, and as he bends to kiss her cheek, he ruffles her hair. “We’re out of milk and almost everything else.”

“Thank you, Haruhi!” the redhead exclaims, clasping his offspring against his chest for a tight embrace. “I was meaning to go myself, but…”

“It’s fine,” Haruhi assures him. “It’s your day off. I can do it.”

“What a sweet daughter I have! I am so lucky!” he squeezes her tighter, and she lets out a small yelp. He lets go at this cue. “What in the world have I done to deserve such a wonderful child!?”

“Really, it’s fine,” Haruhi seems a bit overwhelmed, but she is used to dealing with him, and adjusts to his energy quickly. “I’ll be back in an hour or so, okay?”

“Alright, have a good time!” the small family’s funds are kept in a steel box beneath his bed, and he guesses that Haruhi has already gotten in and taken the money she will need for shopping as she always does. ‘Such a responsible girl,’ he marvels, and pats her on the back as she exits the room. “When you get home, we can make muffins together!”

“Sure,” Haruhi adjusts the long strap of the small purse she is carrying around her shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye, Haruhi!” Ryouji waves until the apartment’s front door closes and then turns around to face his task for the day. He chooses the top box on the stack and carries it along with the bag of photo albums he purchased earlier into the kitchen, where he prepares tea for himself before he sits down at the table and slowly opens the box. Immediately as the box opens, dust flies into his face. A long sneezing fit gets in the way of his work, and when his sinuses finally calm down, Ryouji carefully brushes the rest of the dust from the top layer of photos and chooses one at random.

The photograph is a lovely one of Kotoko during the first week they met. He took it while she was enjoying the coffee he made for her, and she peers up over the rim of her cup at him. Recalling that early time in their relationship is blissful, calling to mind those days of her watching him suspiciously as he worked behind the counter.

“Isn’t working as a bartender with that face of yours a little bit of a girly job?” she asked him, and immediately his expression turned to one of mock horror.

“Kotoko-san, could it be that you are a sexist!?” he gasped, and immediately she raised her cup back to her mouth so she could avoid answering him.

“Of course not. It’s just that that face of yours… makes anything into a girly job.”

“I see!” he laughed heartily and lifted the camera that he had brought with him to work to take a picture of his boss to show Yuu-chan. Snapping a picture of Kotoko brought him great joy, and as he extended a plate of tea biscuits to her, that smile made him melt.

The next photo Ryouji’s hand reaches is one taken at he and Kotoko’s wedding. Kotoko is squinting into the lens in the bright sunlight and Ryouji’s arm is around her as he laughs deeply at something she said. He can remember that day as clearly as if it were yesterday.

“Are you sure this dress doesn’t look lumpy?” Kotoko asked, peering at herself in the reflective surface of a vase as they stood a little way away from the guests at the reception, a married couple at last.

“Of course not!” truthfully, the white underskirt did make the effect a little lumpy below the waist, but she was his perfect bride and everything about her was beautiful. There was no part of him that could admit she had any flaws at that moment. “You look gorgeous! You look perfect! You look amazing!”

“Alright, alright!” she said finally, laughing and leaning against him. Her cheek was warm against his chest, and Ryouji’s smile widened at the soft contact. “I love you, Ryouji.”

“I love you too!” he practically shouted, and he was happy she was used to him by now. Those within a ten foot radius jumped in surprise, but Kotoko just smiled and laced her arms around his waist.

“You know, it’s probably about time that we go and have our first dance. Everyone is waiting,” she told him and Ryouji nodded.

“Of course!” he declared, the volume of his voice peaked by excitement and joy that rushed through his veins at the feeling of her small hand in his own.

Next, Ryouji finds a photo taken of the two of them on the day Kotoko won a large and important case. She looks almost regal with her dark business suit and the smile on her face is slightly exhausted, but genuinely happy. Ryouji, as usual, does not look as suave as she does. His button-up is slightly crooked, but what matters more is the happy smile on his face at simply being near to her.

“Congratulations, darling!” He exclaimed happily as they exited the courthouse hand in hand, Kotoko glowing with exhausted happiness at her victory. “You’ve kept an innocent man from going to jail! Oh, I’m so proud of you!”

In reply, Kotoko merely grinned and brushed back several locks of sweaty hair from her forehead. The sun was bright that afternoon, and she looked radiant with it beaming down on her. Ryouji marveled at the fact that someone so extraordinary could possibly love someone as imperfect as him, and he silently thanked whoever it was up there that made the decisions about fate as he slipped his arm around her waist. Moving farther down the steps, suddenly Ryouji was slightly blinded by flash as someone snapped a picture of them, but he really could not bring himself to mind.

“What a wonderful day! The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and Kotoko has won the most important case she has ever taken on!” he sang. “What could possibly make this day better!?” But somehow, Kokoto always seemed to know exactly what to say to surpass his expectations for what a wonderful day truly was.

“I’m pregnant,” he said with a small smile, and time seemed to stand still.

Smiling as he slides the three photos into slots in a lavender album, he reaches happily for another. He knows that looking back on memories has the ability to immerse him all day and that finishing his task is unlikely, but he does not mind. The memories make him warm, and that is worth more than anything.

Slowly, Ryouji reaches for another photograph. This one is from the day Haruhi was born. Kotoko is lying in a hospital bed and holding the small, dark-haired baby in her arms and looks absolutely content. Ryouji, who is standing beside her, seems completely oblivious to anything but the child in his wife’s arms.

“This is my daughter?” Ryouji asked, his voice hushed in wonder as he peered down at the small bundle.

“Yes,” Kotoko replied, and Ryouji nearly collapsed. He was at that moment staring at a tiny person he had helped bring into the world. A tiny person that was part of him. This was an overwhelming fact, and it made him want to faint. How could two mere humans possibly be responsible for something so absolutely perfect? “Would you like to hold her?”

“Of course!” Ryouji’s voice was still hushed, and for a moment, he faltered, hesitation holding him still. “But what if I…”

“You won’t hurt her,” Kotoko promised softly, as though she could read his mind. As Ryouji’s tiny daughter was passed into his arms, he could feel a shudder of warmth go through him. This was what being a father felt like.

“Hello there,” he whispered, and large brown eyes looked up at him from within the folds of pink blanket. “I’m your daddy.”

For a moment there was nothing but silence, and Ryouji rocked his daughter in the stillness, hoping that he wouldn’t inadvertently make the infant cry. The world seemed to fall away, leaving behind nothing but the small family in the blindingly sterile hospital room. Ryouji had never felt quite so content as he did at that moment, rocking his newborn daughter and marveling at the fact that she looked exactly like her mother.

“What should we name her?” Kotoko asked, breaking the silence. “I was thinking of maybe Haruhi, after her great aunt.”

“Haruhi is a lovely name,” Ryouji said softly, smiling down at the baby. “I love it.”

“Fujioka Haruhi it is,” the nurse said, marking something down on what Ryouji assumed was a birth certificate.

“Hello, Haruhi,” Ryouji said, trying it out. He could have sworn he saw her smile, though he had been told time and time again that babies could not. “Haruhi, Haruhi, Haruhi. Daddy’s here, Haruhi,” bending down to kiss that tiny forehead, he suddenly wanted to cry. “And he loves you very much.”

Blinking back sentimental tears at that memory, Ryouji slides the photograph lovingly into an empty slot in the album and reaches for another from the box. This one is a photo of he, Kotoko, and Haruhi on vacation in Osaka. They stand in front of USJ, Ryouji holding Haruhi and he and Kotoko beaming at the camera, slightly sunburned, while Haruhi stares at the camera in childlike awe.

“It’s been such a lovely day!” Ryouji said, bouncing his daughter a bit. She stared at him questioningly, and he laughed. At the age of three, she was already a smart and rather odd child, whose reactions to things were usually far more deep than his own. “Hasn’t it, Haruhi?”

“Fun,” Haruhi agreed, and he squealed in delight, hugging her tightly.

“Oh, you’re so cute, Haruhi!”

“Don’t crush her,” Kotoko warned, and Ryouji laughed, though he loosened the hug a bit.

“Don’t worry so much, darling!” he said breezily, leaning over to kiss his wife’s cheek. “What could possibly do wrong on such a perfect day!?”

The answer was a sudden drop of rain on his face, and as they ran for shelter, he and Kotoko chuckling heartily, he had to be amazed at how genuinely lucky he was.

The photograph slides easily into the empty album pocket, and when Ryouji’s fingers close around the next one and he stares at it, suddenly a kind of abstract weariness fills him, burning into his stomach like acid. The photograph is of he and Kotoko having just arrived at an onsen they are visiting for a break from everyday life. Ryouji is holding her and leaning in to kiss her just beside the mouth. Both of their eyes are closed in contentment, and he can sense the depth of the love that radiates from the pose even now, nearly ten years later. Kokoto’s dress is a pale pink, sleeveless affair that he cannot stop complimenting her on.

“You look so lovely in that dress, Kotoko!” he exclaimed, and his wife smiled at the compliment.

“Thank you Ryouji, but you don’t really need to say it a thousand times, do you?” she seemed more amused than irritated, however, and she took his hand gently. “Come on, let’s get inside! We need to get this vacation started.”

Ryouji hung back. “Are you sure Haruhi is alright without us!? She’s only five, you know!” he said quickly in one breath, letting out all the worry and concern that had been plaguing him all day.

“My parents adore her,” Kotoko reminds him, smiling in a way that is more comforting than he can ever begin to explain. “She’ll be fine. You know how much she adores spending time with them. Haruhi is a big girl. I’m sure she’s okay away from us for the weekend.”

“Alright,” Ryouji took a deep breath, pushing aside his concern. Leaning over to kiss her, he hears the unmistakable sound of a camera’s shutter, and Mikuru, Ryouji’s friend from work who drove them all the way to the onsen, is grinning at them and holding the camera in his hands.

“Get inside, you lovebirds. I’ll be back on Sunday night,” he says, more than a bit amused at the display. Ryouji smiles at him.

“Thanks for the ride, Mikuru-san. We’ll see you Sunday!” taking Kotoko’s hand again, he led her inside, his heart alight with excitement for the weekend.

Ryouji leans back in his chair, a heaviness filling his chest as he stares at the photograph, and his heart nearly collapses under the weight of it. The day after they returned from their vacation, Kotoko was gone. She had died without a word, without a sound, and left him feeling as though he was lost in the giant expanse of the world forever.

“Kotoko…” he whispers, barely even conscious of the tears that work their way out of his eyes and in hot, damp trails down the skin of his cheeks. After so many years, he had expected himself to feel numb at the memory of losing her, the memory that has been pushed aside for so long. Suddenly this apartment is large, cold, and empty, and he shivers. How many times did he and his precious Kotoko sit at this very same table together, doing crosswords and eating meals, happy in all their togetherness? How many times did she walk across that floor before him to make lunch for the young Haruhi, to grab herself a cup of coffee?

Ryouji is suddenly unsure of what he is doing, and he clutches the photograph to his chest as though it is his life raft. All around him, memories that have lain dormant for so very long swirl, colorful and painful and all too beautiful. He grasps at them, but they are too fast for him and they elude his fingertips, stinging his eyes with more tears he does not want to shed.

“Why did you have to leave?” he whispers, and for a moment he gets lost in the silence, almost expecting an answer. “Why did you have to go and leave us all alone?”

Shaking himself out of the sudden wave of self-pity, Ryouji sets the photograph on the table and takes a long, cleansing sip of his tea. “You can’t afford to get caught up in misery,” he reminds himself. It was Kotoko who taught him that life is far too short for that. He has to remain sunny and positive in the face of any obstacle… despite how lonely and lost he feels at this moment. Despite the pain that dwells somewhere in his chest as though a knife sticks between his ribs. Ryouji leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling.

Click says the latch on the door after Haruhi comes through it, and Ryouji sits up quickly, sipping his tea nonchalantly as his daughter comes into the room with a bag of groceries and a worried expression on her face.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and for a moment Ryouji is amazed at both how she can read him so easily and at how much she looks like her mother. She has the same eyes, the same short brown hair, and the same curious expression as she regards him in silence, waiting for his answer.

“Fine, fine,” he says with a wave of his hand, a sour taste in his mouth despite the sweetness of his tea. In an instant he knows she does not believe him, though she nods dimly and turns to pour a cup of tea for herself. She is not one to pry, and for this he is grateful. Ryouji waits as she finishes preparing her tea and sits down at the table beside him.

“So, what are you doing?” she asks, and Ryouji does not choke on his tea.

“Organizing these old photos,” he replies, and Haruhi nods sagely.

“Want me to help?”

“Yes, please,” Ryouji does not want to buried in memories alone any longer, but there is something refreshing about the thought of doing so with the girl who so long ago stared up at him with those huge brown eyes for the very first time and made his life whole. The two sit together, working through the innumerable photographs, sometimes sitting in a comfortable silence and sometimes making conversation. The little family sits around that old kitchen table and works on the task together, and somehow Ryouji can’t help but realize that Kotoko is here as the rain hits the windows and morning stretches into afternoon. She is here in the photographs, but more importantly in the memories and in every beat of her family’s hearts.

This is something that not even death can change. He can imagine that she can still see with some amusement him completing this mundane task, and he smiles.

‘Isn’t this a little bit of a girly job for you, Ryouji?’

‘I love you, Kotoko. We both do.’

Ryouji is not exactly sure if it is his imagination or something that he really hears, but he knows he hears it somehow, and it brings a smile to his face as it did so many times in the past, filling his heart with a sense of warm contentment.

“I love you too.”

Drowning in the Net

Mon, 01 Jun 2009 18:49:54 GMT

Waking up, I can't feel anything
Cold sheets are beneath me

Cold blankets are above
And that thing we call love
Is swinging like a pendulum
Drowning like a dolphin
Trapped in a net meant for tuna
Or... drowning in my heart
A heart meant for that "just friends" love
That warm, syrupy, false kind of love
I try to keep a lid on this sense of romance
That seems to be dribbling over
The side of the kettle
Whenever you look at me,
It's impossible to deny
But it's more impossible to love you
And have things end up well
I'm not a cynic, I'm not a realist
But in the pit of my crazy
Silly and optimistic heart
I can sense it's wrong
Despite all this, your hand falls into mine
And suddenly it's not so impossible anymore

So tell me, which characters is this poem about? 8D
I want to hear your thoughts.

Ouran: Leap of Faith

Thu, 14 May 2009 21:26:07 GMT

This was written for ouran_contest's "Faith" theme. It's TamaHaru again, but this time it's Haruhi-centric.

Leap of Faith

It was a long, long jump.

Haruhi closed her eyes tightly for a moment, and when she opened them again, the other host club members were still there, as was the large gap before her. She knew they were there to catch here, but the leap was still daunting, and she could feel her legs growing heavy and her body trembling. What if she were to slip?

“Haruhi?”

Suddenly, reality consumed her, and the metaphorical jump she had been expected to perform faded into oblivion at the sight of the limousine’s interior around her, of the other former hosts sitting on the white leather seats and staring at her with concern. It was Tamaki who had spoken, and by now he was wringing his hands at her failure to answer.

“Eh?” Haruhi, remembering where she was, snapped out if it and put on a normal expression. For now, the uncertainty of the future could wait. With her first year of college lying ahead of her, she couldn’t help but feel that everything as she had always known it was crumbling under her feet, but this was not the time for thinking of such things. Today was the day that Kanako Kasugazaki would become Kanako Suzushima after years of betrothal to Tohru, and she had asked the seven of them to come. It was a touching honor and a special day for Kanako, and Haruhi was not going to let anything spoil it. Not even the fear of that leap into the future…

“You’ve been staring off into space for the better part of fifteen minutes, Haruhi, and you haven’t even had a drop of the champagne!” Tamaki said, distress evident in his smooth features. He had grown even taller and stronger during his first year of university, but when he was worried he looked as though no time had passed.

“I never drink in the car, Tamaki,” she reminded him. “I don’t want it all over me,” with a slight sigh she pushed a lock of hair out of her face. Now that it was shoulder-length, it was too long to be contained behind her ears, and it had a nasty habit of obscuring her vision.

“Oh, but there’s so much more to it!” Tamaki said, wringing his hands again and taking hers carefully in them. The warmth of his fingers comforted her briefly, and she was instantly grateful for her relationship with the man, however infuriating he was at times. “What’s wrong? For a moment there, you looked so… far away.”

“He’s right, you know,” Mori said from across the seat, and Haruhi raised her eyes to look at him. Tamaki was always going on about something, but when Mori noticed it too, that was when she knew it was obvious.

“If there’s something wrong, you can tell us,” no matter how many times she heard it, the new deep, manly quality to Hikaru’s (or was it Kaoru’s? She wasn’t looking) voice was surprising. Now that there were three of them on board with the discussion, she knew she had no hope of dismissing the question.

“I guess I’m just a little worried about going to college next month,” she admitted. It was pointless trying to get around telling them. It would be strange not having the twins in her classes, strange not living at home, and strange not knowing exactly where she was going every morning. She didn’t like to admit it, but Ouran had become such a rooting part of her life that going to another school was an experience akin to getting stepparent.

“We’ll still be there for you, Haru-chan,” Hunny reminded her. His earnest brown eyes stared at her for a moment, and it was hard to believe that he was nearly six feet tall and getting close to his college graduation. The other five nodded at Hunny’s words, and for a moment it was hard for Haruhi not to smile.

“Thanks, guys. I was being silly, I guess,” she said, doing her best to reassure them. She still felt that pang of uneasiness in her stomach, but for their sake, she could ignore it. She felt Tamaki squeeze her hands slightly and gave him her attention; she hadn’t even been aware that he was still holding them.

“Haruhi, I want you to know that… you can always tell me everything, alright?” his voice was low and intimate, and Haruhi would have kissed him right them if not for the presence of the others. “No matter what it is, I promise I’ll listen. I meant it when I said that you’d never have to be alone!”

Haruhi gave him a slight smile and adjusted her dress. “Thank you, Tamaki,” she whispered. She realized fully at times like this how little she really deserved someone as wonderful as he was. She was constantly afraid of losing him but lacked the courage to make sure that they would never be separated, and for this she wanted to kick herself. This was what made that leap into the future so daunting; the fear that she would somehow leave him behind. He had been much more fidgety than usual today, more apprehensive, and for a moment she wondered what in the world went on behind those eyes. Before she could ask, he just grinned and pointed out the scenery.

The wedding took place on the grounds of the Suzushima estate, and in the early spring air, the roses were blooming with reckless abandon. Rows of elegant white benches were set up in the grass, matching the white of the altar and the roses in the bouquets on the tables further back. As the seven of them found their places and more guests arrived, Haruhi tried to keep her mind on the decorations and the festive feeling in the air. She felt, for lack of a better sentiment, as though she had somehow lost her anchor, whatever it may have been. With this new, sudden future looming before her, she felt tethered to nothing. It was a helpless feeling that she was quite unfamiliar with.

“Thank you for coming,” Tohru Suzushima told them with a nervous smile. He looked dashing in his dark suit, and his face was slightly flushed with anticipation.

“A lovely day for a wedding,” Kyouya said in reply, and the two began to exchange small talk as the remainder of the guests arrived. For reasons she could not explain, Haruhi felt as nervous as Tohru looked. As he took his place at the pulpit and the wedding procession began, she was conscious of her hands sweating. Kanako looked like a princess in her glittering white dress, and she gave Haruhi and excited, slightly nervous smile as she passed. Haruhi returned it, and as she watched the two lovers being joined, she could not stop the feeling of happiness she felt for her two friends, who she knew had wanted to be together since they were small. The vows were ones that Kanako and Tohru had written themselves, and they were beautiful in all their simplicity.

“Your love will be my anchor,” Tohru recited, blushing slightly and smiling at his bride. “So I’ll always have something to hold onto.”

“Your love will be my candle,” Kanako giggled slightly at his bashfulness. “So I’ll always have light no matter how intense the darkness.”

As Haruhi watched the intimacy between the two and the rapt way they stared into each other’s eyes as though they were the only two in the world, she realized that this truly was permanence. What she herself was missing was not an anchor, but the ability to trust unfailingly and hold onto that anchor. Tamaki was her anchor, and her fear to step forward into the future was meshed with her fear of letting herself lose him.

The ceremony gradually drew to a close with Kanako and Tohru bound happily into matrimony, and after hugging them both and muttering a quick ’congratulations’, Haruhi wandered away from the crowd. The grounds were oddly reminiscent of those at Ouran, she mused as she wandered farther from the party, finding her way into a small, white archway and leaned heavily against its wooden frame. The sounds of conversation and laughter filtered in from the distance and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore that sharp pang of uncertainty that reared its ugly head once more.

“Haruhi!”

She opened her eyes to see Tamaki approaching her, his white coattails flapping in the wind. He loved wearing white suits, and his today contrasted drastically with the explosive red dress he had talked her into wearing.

“Oh… Tamaki,” unsure of exactly what to say at this moment, she settled for merely uttering his name as he reached her.

“Why are you running off?” he asked her, laughing slightly. His cheeks were pink from the sun. “You’re going to miss the reception. They have fatty tuna.” Haruhi’s stomach growled as he spoke these words. “Want to head back?”

“You go ahead. I’ll… be there in a minute,” Haruhi squeezed her eyes shut and was aware of him coming closer, slipping an arm around her waist. She opened them to see him leaning against the arbor beside her, head tilted back and eyes closed peacefully.

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” Tamaki said conversationally, eyes still closed. He looked angelic with the sunlight streaming through his hair and setting it alight in a fiery riot of buttery gold. For a moment, Haruhi swore time froze.

“It really was,” she agreed. Tamaki giggled, and she stared at him until he explained himself. Sure that he could feel the daggers of her vision prodding him, Haruhi was glad that it took only moments.

“I’m just so happy,” he confessed, looking bother very at peace and very handsome and he turned his face toward hers and looked at her gaily for a moment, his face a riot of joy. “To see the two of them finally married like this just makes me feel happier than anything else. It’s a real leap of faith, marriage.”

“Leap?” Haruhi’s heart shuddered.

“Well, of course. There’s no telling if it’s going to turn out, but you just have to close your eyes and jump right in, because of love.”

For a moment, there was silence and stillness. Haruhi swore the birds nearby had stopped chirping, that the party was frozen in motion, and that the earth had ceased to spin. Haruhi stood on her tiptoes in the golden sunlight and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He smiled in reply and closed his eyes for a moment.

“I love you,” he said softly, and Haruhi kissed him again, hoping to draw out that phrase again.

“I love you too,” Haruhi was aware of her heart skipping beats left and right, and she swore it was a miracle that she didn’t go unconscious. Instead, she kissed him a third time, this time more insistent and firm, and concentrated on breathing deeply. “Tamaki… will you take that leap with me?”

“What?” Tamaki’s eyes snapped open, and he did nothing but stare in silence. Then the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, and he brushed the back of his hand gently down the side of her face. “Did you just propose to me, Haruhi?” he looked on the verge of bursting, almost like his old teenage self, the uncontrollable bundle of excitement he had been when she’d first met him.

“Yes,” Haruhi replied firmly, unwilling to back down and unwilling to let go of this moment.

“This is a little backward,” Tamaki said with a grin, his large hands clasping hers. “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t be so old-fashioned,” she scolded. “I just… I needed to ask, because I’ve finally figured out what I need. I… need you, Tamaki. I’ve been acting so strange today because in a way, I was starting to be afraid I would lose you. And I don’t ever want that to happen.”

“Haruhi,” Tamaki was crying slightly, and for a moment she found it surprising before she remembered who exactly this was. Tamaki was inclined to cry at the drop of a hat, but this was different. “You thought you were going to lose me? No,” he clasped her against his chest, and as her head filled with his familiar scent she was taken back to a time when it was a blue uniform jacket that she would be pressed against. “No, no, never. You’ll never, ever lose me, Haruhi. I promise. I’ll always be right here.”

Haruhi hadn’t realized she was crying as well until he drew back and brushed away a tear. “Tamaki…”

“Is what you asked… what you really want, Haruhi?” pressed this tightly against him, Haruhi could feel his heart beating rather heavily, and she pressed the moment into her mind; a memory.

“Yes,” her nod was certain, and she locked her eyes tightly with his. “It’s what I want.”

“Then yes!” Tamaki’s joy erupted, and he went off like a firework, clutching at her and kissing her until she swore the lack of oxygen was going to her head. “Yes, yes, of course I will marry you, Haruhi Fujioka!”

Smiling, Haruhi buried her face in his white jacket and breathed a sigh of relief. And slowly, the world pieced itself together. Haruhi had always been independent and almost bordered on unwilling to allow herself to rely on anyone else. But at this moment, she did need someone else, more deeply than she could have imagined. It was a warm, almost comforting feeling, to love and be loved this way.

It was a long, long jump.

Haruhi closed her eyes tightly for a moment, and when she opened them again, the other host club members were still there, as was the large gap before her. She knew they were there to catch here, but the leap was still daunting, and she could feel her legs growing heavy and her body trembling. What if she were to slip?

“It’s alright Haruhi!” she heard Tamaki say from across that wide, wide gap. She breathed deeply for a moment. Suddenly, though the gap was no smaller and her fear was no less pressing, she closed her eyes and she leaped, keeping her eyes focused on Tamaki‘s face.

And he caught her.

Ouran: Dredging Up the Past

Thu, 23 Apr 2009 17:04:03 GMT

Written for ouran_contest's "Try" theme.
This one's another about Yuzuru and Anne-Sophie, because they are fun to write about.

The least he can do is try, he reminds himself. They have spoken on the phone dozens of times since the time he first came back to Japan, but they have not come into contact since that day, have not touched, and he has not seen the trusting circles of her eyes, lovely when not ringed in makeup, as they glitter at the sight of him. So of course, understandably he is nervous. His hands shake, his breath comes shallow, and he wonders when in the world a woman could make him feel this way. In the Tonnerre household, he opens the door to the servants’ quarters, and the instant he sees her, the years melt away.

“Yuzuru…” she sits by the window, and as he enters, she stands quickly. “You… you should have called first!” he can tell that she is as surprised by his visit as he himself is, and he smiles, amused by how flustered she seems.

“But that just would have spoiled the fun, right?” he winks, and is unsurprised when she doesn’t melt. She has always been different from other girls, and he had had no delusions that this would change over the years. In fact, it was this fact that made him feel irresistibly forced to come to France after so much time. He was counting on it.

“You just like startling me like this, don’t you?” she asks, but she is moving over to him already, and he smiles, taking her hands. “Why did you come all this way without calling me?”

“Miss Grantaine,” he began in a jokingly dignified manner. “I’ve made it clear to my mother that I’m not going to give up on this. So, if it wouldn’t be terribly too much trouble… I would like us to give it one more try.”

Ouran: What's Your Sign?

Wed, 01 Apr 2009 19:50:01 GMT

Written for ouran_contest's "Horoscope" theme.It was so exhausting to write, for some reason.

So, this one's Haruhi x EVERYONE and focuses on all of the club members. So, not much major character development here X3 And for the first time in a while, it's 100% anime-based (I'm tiring of the manga's drama).

EDIT: I fixed some grammar mistakes and typos. Let me know if you see any more? ^^

Where is it? Aries, Aries, Aries!?

In the sunny silence of the lazy Saturday morning, Tamaki’s fingers moved like quicksilvers across the newsprint as he searched madly for that magic word. “Where are you!?” he shouted in frustration. Several of the maids jumped at his shout, and from behind where the blonde sat scanning the paper with reckless abandon, Kyouya pushed his glasses up onto his nose and sighed.

“Tamaki, you know as well as I do that we are going to be late for school. What in the world are you looking for?” the dark-haired teenager was on the edge of a temper flare, and onlookers less dense than Tamaki would have recognized the telltale vein pulsing in his temple, or perhaps the irritated flare to his nostrils. Tamaki, however, was both oblivious and steadfast, and he searched frantically on for the cluster of words that so cruelly eluded him.

“My horoscope!” the blonde gasped, raised blue-purple eyes up to meet his friend’s face. Kyouya was beginning to suspect Tamaki of being crazy (well, far from beginning, actually), and this was the icing on the cake. “I can’t find it!”

With careful deliberation, Kyouya moved over to the fretting Prince and bent over his shoulder to get a better look at the newspaper. It was with a heavy sigh that he lowered his hand, one finger touching a spot on the page. “There. There it is. At the top, Tamaki. The very first one.” The word Aries was almost blindingly bold, and for a moment Kyouya wondered how in the world Tamaki had missed it at all.

“Oh… silly me,” Tamaki seemed to be pushing away a small wave of embarrassment, and Kyouya straightened his tie compulsively.

“Come on now. You’ve found it. Now let’s get going so we can at least make it to school before the last bell…” Kyouya was beginning to wish he had not let Tamaki talk him into having his driver swing by and pick the blonde up so they could ride to school together. In fact, for a moment he wished Tamaki had never transferred to Ouran in the first place…

“We’re not going to be late, Kyouya! We’re still way ahead of schedule, in fact. Perhaps your watch is wrong? And besides, I still have to read it!” Tamaki exclaimed with a dramatic flourish, and held the paper up in front of him grandly. Kyouya’s watch was never wrong, but he knew it would be pointless to tell him this. Instead, Kyouya yawned lightly and glanced with little interest at the Scorpio horoscope.

You will find yourself in dire need of relaxation today, but a friend will make it worth your while. Scorpio women should beware of a stranger who is not what he appears, but Scorpio men should not be afraid to take that first plunge into new love, as the rewards will outweigh the setbacks.

Kyouya shrugged and glanced again at his watch. It was 7:20, and classes would not start until 8:00. Tamaki had been right, but nothing could possibly be gained by telling him this. It would only make the other boy more cocky, and Kyouya certainly wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of that. His nerves were already worn thin and the day had barely even started. Perhaps his horoscope was correct in saying that he was in dire need of relaxation. “I can only hope it’s not Tamaki who tries to make it worth my while…” he thought dryly, irritably smoothing invisible wrinkles from his blazer.

Suddenly a small, strangled squeal erupted from the human volcano that was the aforementioned blonde, and it took all of Kyouya’s self-control, gained over years and years acting as the potential future heir to the Ootori family, not to jump a foot in the air. Slowly, he chanced a glance at Tamaki, who now had the newspaper clutched against his chest, a look of glazed bliss in his eyes. Kyouya was briefly reminded of a filled doughnut.

“Kyouya! Oh, Kyouya, listen to this!” Tamaki gushed, pulling the newspaper away from his chest and clearing his throat grandly as he began to read. “Today your happiness will be greatly affected by the actions of an Aquarius!” he glanced up at Kyouya, presumably to see if the dark-haired teenager shared his excitement.

“And?” Kyouya was unimpressed, and he could see Tamaki falter slightly.

“So Haruhi is an Aquarius, Kyouya!” Tamaki threw one hand happily into the air. “And listen to the rest! It says ‘Aries men should note that this is the perfect time to divulge all of those long-hidden feelings to ensure that the heart is unburdened for the spring’! Don’t you see, Kyouya?” when Kyouya gave him a blank look in return, Tamaki continued. “My horoscope is telling me that today is the day to reveal my feelings to Haruhi and learn how she feels in return!”

“Today is also the day that my driver has been waiting outside for the past twenty minutes…” Kyouya replied impatiently, reaching out and grabbing overly-superstitious blonde’s wrist. He could not explain the slight burning sensation that took over his stomach as Tamaki mentioned divulging his feeling toward Haruhi.

“You don’t need to use force on me, Kyouya!” Tamaki said, obviously appalled. He pulled his wrist from the other boy’s grip and massaged it with a flourish. Kyouya gritted his teeth and allowed a sigh to escape. “You could simply say ‘let’s go’, and I would jump at your request!”

“I’d be more inclined to believe that it I hadn’t been asking all along,” Kyouya muttered, too quietly for Tamaki to hear. He headed for the front doors and Tamaki was quickly on his heels, babbling excitedly as they stepped into the fresh morning sunshine. Kyouya still could not shake the strange feeling, and it gnawed at him unpleasantly all the way to the school, drowning out Tamaki’s excited chatter.

Could this be jealousy?

XXX

“Oi Kaoru, look at this,” Hikaru, sprawled over the back seat of the limo, waved the newspaper clipping at his brother. “That newspaper article we’re supposed to bring in for Current Events has the horoscope section on the back. You think those are funny, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” surprised his brother had remembered this insignificant detail he had mentioned the week before, Kaoru slid across the seat to him and peered down at the paper. Muted sunlight slanted across it through the tinted window, making it an effortless read. “Should we see what ours says?”

“Might as well… it might help with how boring this ride has been so far.” Hikaru yawned, stretching leisurely and unconsciously hooking an arm around his brother’s shoulders. He flipped the article concerning the recent reinstating of Yuzuru Suoh as the superintendent over, revealing the astrology section. “Let’s see…” Kaoru’s eyes scanned the paper for the word Gemini, and the two of them seemed to find it at the same time, their simultaneous shout of ’aha!’ echoing through the confines of the limousine’s seating area.

“While a chance encounter with a Scorpio or Taurus may greatly impact your mood today, it will be an Aquarius who holds most power over your feelings. You should heed any advice spoken by a Pisces very closely,” Kaoru read aloud, shrugging slightly. “I don’t know, does that make any sense?”

“Not really. Oh, and you forgot this part… ‘Gemini men should be careful not to be stingy with their affections if they wish to retain control of their situation’. What is that supposed to mean?”

“Beats me…” Kaoru let a loud sigh escape, leaning back on his seat. “But those get more far-out every time we read them.” Dropping the thought, he sat back and let the scenery fly by the window, lulling him into an early-morning haze. However, the thought in his mind was exactly the same as that in his brother’s; maybe there was something to this prediction after all?

XXX

“Haaaaaaaru-chan! Good morning!” the loud shout set Haruhi off balance, and she was forced to grab hold of the nearest firm surface to keep from toppling over at Hunny’s overwhelming greeting. The surface, it turned out, was Mori’s arm, and he lifted her up and set her back on her feet, this time in a steadier position. It took Haruhi a moment to regain her bearings.

“Thanks, Mori-sempai,” she managed to say, compulsively brushing dust from her uniform from the near-fall. The tall male nodded in acknowledgement, and she could see the ghost of a fond smile cross his lips. “And good morning, Hunny-sempai.”

“You’re just in time, Haru-chan!” Hunny exclaimed, waving his small arms from his place at his favorite table. There was a small plate of cake set out before him, but in his lap was a colorful magazine opened up to a glossy spread of assorted pictures and text boxes. “The new issue of the Host Club’s magazine is out!”

“We have a magazine?” Haruhi asked weakly, dropping her bag beside the table. She was beginning to think coming to the music room before class had been a bad idea. There was nearly a half hour before class, but she could have easily killed the time wandering through the halls. It wasn’t too late to escape now…

“It has all the club members’ horoscopes for today and the next few weeks in it, Haru-chan! It’s so neat! Nyaaaa!” Hunny wiggled around a bit and took a large bite of cake. “For today, they’re the same ones as in the newspaper! Mine says that I’m going to need to make sure to give any advice I have today and not be afraid to say what I mean, and Takashi’s said something about comforting people in their time of need today! Want to know yours?”

“Not really…” Haruhi told him, offering the tiny blonde a small smile. “I don’t really… um…” seeing his face fall, she tripped on her words, struggling desperately for something consoling to say. “I didn’t want you to have to read it out loud, that’s all!”

“Oh,” Hunny shrugged. “Haru-chan, I don’t mind reading it at all!”

“Er… alright,” Haruhi replied awkwardly, unsure of what to say. “Then go ahead, Hunny-sempai.”

“Okay!” Hunny cleared his throat in a dramatic way that reminded her disturbingly of Tamaki and held the magazine up in front of him. The lurid hot pink volume looked oversized in his tiny hands. “Ooh, Haru-chan is an Aquarius! Okay, let’s see! Ready, Haru-chan? It says ‘Use caution when dealing with the feelings of others, because they are move fragile than they appear!”

“Um… alright. Thanks, Hunny-sempai,” Haruhi gave the boy a small smile, and he clapped his hands. “Where’s everybody else?”

Haruhi was soon to regret that question, because it was answered by the sound of those pastel pink double doors flying open, and by the sight of Tamaki’s bright figure bursting into the room, clutching a crumpled newspaper in his hand. Kyouya followed behind him, silent and irritated.

“Haru-hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” the blonde shouted as he entered the music room, and Haruhi jumped. There was a look of almost mad excitement in his eyes as he came toward her, and she managed to remember to put her hands up before her as a kind of shield.

“Good morning, Tamaki-sempai…” she muttered, backing up as he advanced on her.

“Oh, and it is a good morning! A glorious morning!” Tamaki took her hands (much to her dismay, as they had been her only means of protection from a sudden attack of affection) carefully in his own. “Oh, Haruhi, the day has finally come!”

“What?” Haruhi blinked slightly a took a step back, but Tamaki moved with her. He was considerably more overwhelming this morning than usual, and she was slightly afraid of what might happen. “Is it picture day?”

“Tamaki, you should really think through this…” Kyouya began, but Tamaki was in too charged of a state to listen to him.

“No Haruhi, it’s not picture day! It’s the day that I finally tell you that I lo--”

“Hold it right there, tono!” the doors burst open a second time, and this time the twins came into the room with a kind of warlike determination etched onto their faces. Tamaki looked alarmed for a moment as they moved over to him, and it was at this moment that Haruhi became truly, genuinely at a loss for what was happening. “We’re not letting Haruhi go without a fight!”

Tamaki looked blank for a moment, and then horrified. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“You know what we’re talking about!” Hikaru said. He looked smug, and Tamaki flushed red in the face with a mixture of horror and embarrassment, but stood his ground. “We’re talking about what you were just about to confess to Haruhi!”

“That’s none of your business!” Tamaki’s indigo eyes were wide, close to bulging out of his head.

“Yes it is, because you know just as well as we do that Hikaru and I feel the same way!” Kaoru moved forward to stand beside his brother. “We’ve come to an agreement that we won’t have a problem sharing her with each other, but we do have a problem with sharing her with you!”

“Wait, wait! I have some advice!” Hunny promptly leaped down from the table he was sitting on and scampered over to the group. “Hika-chan and Kao-chan, Haru-chan probably doesn’t want to be shared!” the small blonde pointed out, grabbing hold of Haruhi’s arm. “She needs one special person to make her happy!” he beamed brightly at the others. “And Usa-chan and I are very good at making girls happy!”

“Are you trying to say that you think you would be a better choice for Haruhi?” Hikaru asked, taking Haruhi’s hand out of Tamaki’s grip.

“Well of course, Hika-chan!” Hunny said, both innocent and confident in his words. “Because I wouldn’t be fighting with Tama-chan about it all the time!”

“Mitsukuni…” Mori’s voice held a warning note to it, and Hunny looked up at him warily. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“But I love her too, Takashi!” Hunny argued in a slightly squeaky voice, grabbing the front of the taller boy’s shirt. “And I know you feel the same way! You could hug Haru-chan all you wanted if I was the one who got to be her boyfriend!” he could tell Mori wavered at this.

“The only reason I’d be fighting with Tamaki about is he’s too thick-skulled to get the fact that he’s lost! He’d just keep trying!”

“I haven’t lost, Hikaru…” Tamaki sounded slightly dangerous as he spoke the words, and for a moment and he the elder twin shared a rather combative look.

“Perhaps you should consider that maybe Haruhi would prefer someone who isn’t an idiot?” Kyouya spoke for the second time that morning from his place at the edge of the little group, and all eyes turned on him.

“Idiot!?” Tamaki’s voice was full of despair, and he looked at Kyouya with a kind of anguish in his trembling eyes. “You really… think that?” Kyouya didn’t answer. His only response was those delicate fingers pushing his glasses back up into place as he watched Tamaki rather curiously. “I’m not an idiot, Kyouya! And I’m deeply wounded that you think such a thing!”

“Maybe it’s because it’s true!” Hikaru, whose expression betrayed his frustration, seemed to be speaking more out of annoyance than spite, but Tamaki gasped anyway. For another long, tense moment, he and Hikaru locked eyes, and the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Um… Hikaru? Tamaki?” Kaoru asked finally.

“What?”

“Haruhi’s gone…”

“WHAT?” the word was spoken simultaneously, and almost immediately all heads turned to see Haruhi disappearing through the double doors. Instantly, panic set in.

“Haruhi, I’m so sorry!” Tamaki wailed, running after her.

“Oh no you don’t, tono!” Hikaru shouted, following the blonde.

“Hikaru, wait!” Kaoru shook his head in irritation and followed his brother.

“Haru-chan, I’ll share my cake with you!” Hunny promised loudly, rushing after the group. Mori made a small sound of resignation and followed his cousin, and Kyouya sighed softly, readjusting his glasses.

In the hallway, Umehito Nekozawa pressed himself flat against the wall to avoid being trampled by Haruhi, who rushed by at a breakneck speed, dropping her books in a trail behind her down the hallway.

“Sorry, Nekozawa-sempai!” the shouted as she passed, and Nekozawa looked up to see Tamaki, Hikaru, Kaoru, Hunny, and Mori all chasing after her with Kyouya following them at a leisurely pace. Nekozawa sighed and made his way toward the Black Magic Club room, shaking his head slightly. All in all, he couldn’t really bring himself to be surprised at the events he had just witnessed.

After all, it was little more than a normal day in the life of the Host Club.

Ouran: Catch Me On the Edge

Wed, 11 Mar 2009 17:50:10 GMT

Written for ouran_contest's "Unbelievable" challenge. I think I stayed under the 300-word limit...

More TamaHaru this time, because I'm addicted. BUT, it's Haruhi-centric this time. Yay me for finally straying away from the constant Tama-ness.

WARNING: manga spoilers everywhere!

Unbelievable!

Truly, completely, honestly unbelievable!

It’s been so long since that day that I used those magazines as a way to fully understand my feelings for you. I talked to Mei about it, I thought about it for so long by myself, and it’s taken a while, I admit, to realize exactly what these warm, soft feelings are inside of me. I can readily say now that I think they are something like love, different from the love that I feel for the other members of the Host Club. It’s somehow more buoyant, more influential. It affects me so much!

But what is so unbelievable to me that you, usually so ready to come out and say things, to stumble on your words but release everything, have remained so silent! I just want to know now… what are your feelings, Tamaki-sempai? Why do you just stand there, silent and smiling in that silly way at me, when all this time you’ve been lying about everything. If you were afraid of losing us or of losing me, why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you reach out as you have so many times in the past, and grab my hand to catch me? While I guess my feelings for you may have been obvious, I can’t help but wonder if you noticed. Why didn’t you catch me when you saw me teetering on the edge and then falling for you?

As I head down the hallway to get my things, I pass you. You are on the phone. I hear you say “Hello, Hikaru. Can you find some time later? There’s something I want to talk about…” I see you look up at me as you flip the phone closed, and for a moment there is nothing but us. Finally, I take a deep breath. I’m tired of being the one to hide.

“Tamaki-sempai!” I say, almost in a shout, and you seem startled. For a moment there is silence, and then I speak as slowly and carefully as I can. “I know it seems rash but… I need to tell you how I feel…”

Ouran: One Last Time

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 20:46:52 GMT

This is my entry for ouran_contest's "Last" theme. It's weird that all but one of my entries have been about Tamaki so far. I guess he's just the character I relate to the best XD This story is very sentimental to me, because I had a big group of family-like friends in high school that I drifted away from after we entered the "real world".

One Last Time

All my time is froze in motion
Can't I stay an hour or two or more?
Don't let me let you go
Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well

Here's to the nights we felt alive
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
Here's to goodbye
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon

Tamaki can’t help but ponder, as he stands twisting his hands and wondering what he is going to say, that he was always last. It is an inescapable fact that pulls at the edges of his mind, although he knows there are far more important matters at hand that he should be thinking about. He stands in his place (last in line) and looks forward toward the front. Sweat is beginning to bead on his forehead with the effort of thinking of something to say, and he knows he is running out of time. Kaoru has already gone, and now Hikaru is at the front. This leaves only Kyouya in front of him. Time is scarce. As hard as he tries to keep his one-track mind set on the task at hand, his thoughts keep straying to old times, to random thoughts and memories.

He was the last one to figure out that Haruhi was a girl, although there was that instant attraction there that he had never experienced toward a male, and there was the slight feminine hints to her appearance. It had completely eluded him for the longest time, however, and now he feels stupid remembering it. Tamaki has never been good at noticing details, and this was only one prime example. When he realized her true gender, he was more than a bit relieved. Now these feelings made sense, and he could breathe a sigh of relief that they weren’t directed toward a boy. He did his best to ignore them, but they were there all the same, and at lonely moments he was grateful for them.

Tamaki had been the last one to dance with her. He had wanted so badly to be the one to teach her the waltz, but Kanako had beaten him to it (“And you’re a boy,” she had argued). He had sat and watched as she was taught, and then watched again in dismay as the twins danced with Haruhi at the ball… until she hurt her foot. He hadn’t gotten a chance, and it made him want to scream in frustration. Even at the ball during the festival, it wasn’t until the others had all gotten their turn that he finally managed to ask her to dance, and then it was only for a short moment, a single breath of their worlds feeling like they were one. After almost leaving the school, only to be brought back by Haruhi herself, it felt like a first in many ways.

Much to his own dismay, Tamaki had even been the last member of the Host Club to kiss her. Hunny kissed her nose in a brotherly fashion many, many times. Mori had a habit of kissing her on the top of the head when she was staring off into space. Hikaru and Kaoru favored flying in, one on either side, and kissing her cheeks when she wasn’t expecting it. And of course, even Kyouya had kissed her on the temple a time or two. They all adored their Haruhi, and showing her affection was much easier than showing it to other people. Tamaki sensed this as well, and tried to make it known. But when he had kissed her forehead in what he had hoped was a paternal gesture, its effect had been strange. Haruhi had been strangely distant for days, and to this day he still had no idea what her reaction had meant. Soon afterward he had become so preoccupied with the situation with Megumi that he had completely forgotten to ask her why she was behaving that way.

Tamaki watches Kyouya step forward, and he utters a soft sigh. Despite being the king of the Host Club back in high school and one of the most popular boys at Hino University, he still seems to be last at everything. Even now, he is going to be the last one to tell his dear Haruhi goodbye. It makes his heart quiver slightly to think that his own dear Haruhi is going away for college. To America, no less. The thought of allowing her to go so far away from him is a staggering, painful one, and he can barely stand to keep it in his vision.

Surprised to find himself blinking back tears, Tamaki tries his hardest to think of the things he will say to her when he steps up to say those last goodbyes. He knows they will see each other again, but he also knows from experience that college and distance and growing up change you in ways you aren’t prepared for. When they meet again, things will not be the same. This is their last time as the old Tamaki and Haruhi, the last time he can pretend they are still back at Ouran and the seven of them are like one big family. These are the last fleeting moments of their old lives together, like fragile petals being carried away from him in the breeze. Though he tries desperately to cling to them, they elude his fingertips and scamper away and out of sight.

The changes that will become magnified soon are already evident; Hunny and Mori went away to Osaka for university two years ago, and their goodbyes to Haruhi had been over the phone. Tamaki shivered slightly. He is still at the reigns, driving their carriage, but one by one his passengers are getting off at their own separate stops; the twins at Obata University, Kyouya at the prestigious Tsuda University, Hunny and Mori enrolled in Osaka at Takaya University, himself at Hino, and Haruhi going all the way to America to pursue a degree first from a law school in New York, then Harvard. Soon he will be left driving an empty carriage, but at what stop will he be getting off? At what point will he abandon the idealistic world he has created with the Host Club and stride forth alone into the real world? He feels for a moment that all the others have completely forgotten what they had, and that he is left alone clinging to what is left. He is, yet again, the last.

“Tamaki-sempai?” only Haruhi’s voice shakes him out of his deep thought, and he can’t help but smile at that fact they she still referres to him as her sempai. Kyouya gives him a swift nod as Tamaki moves over to the young girl who will soon disappear into the horizon on a plane, shattering the last remnants of the past. He has avoided looking at her before now, afraid he would break down in a whirlwind of sentiment in the airport, but as he raises his eyes to her now, he is surprised by what he sees. She is wearing the soft magenta skirt that the twins’ mother made her long ago, along with a ruffled yellow shirt that Tamaki remembers purchasing for her at a bazaar. This isn’t what surprises him, however… it is the fact that over the shirt, she is wearing a powder-blue blazer adorned with the Ouran High School crest. Haruhi seems to notice him looking at it, and avoids his eyes.

“You’re… wearing your high school jacket?” Tamaki asks, cocking his head.

“I know it seems a little silly and sentimental…” Haruhi pauses for a moment, and seems to be choosing her words carefully. “But I’m really going to miss being with everyone, and I feel like maybe if I wear it, I’ll feel like I’m not so far away from back when we all first met.”

Tamaki is very aware of the tears that prickle the corners of his eyes as he lunges forward, pulling her into a rib-crushing hug. He isn’t the last to abandon the past after all; Haruhi still clings to it as well, perhaps with even more ferocity than he does. She never ceases to surprise him. He hangs onto Haruhi just as tightly as he does the past, and he swears he can see every moment of the past three years flying past his vision, from the day they met to the times in between and back to the present. He is left with a drained, shaking feeling as he keeps her close to his chest. A slight smile crosses his lips as he realizes that yet again he is last… last to realize that change isn’t enough to break the ties that bind them together.

“Tamaki?” Haruhi asks, and it is then that he realizes he is squeezing her far too tight. Loosening his grip, he smiles at her. She jumps slightly when he places a light kiss on her cheek, catching a strand of her hair under his lips and feeling her skin heat up beneath the delicate brush of his mouth.

“I may have been the last one of us to do a lot of things with you Haruhi,” he tells her, giving her a very serious look and receiving a baffled one in return. “But… I’m not going to be the last to say that I love you,” his voice trembles slightly, but he refuses to let it fall. “And I do. I love you, Haruhi.”

The girl in his arms freezes for a moment, and when her initial surprise fades away, she slowly smiles. “I love you too, Tamaki,” she tells him, and he isn’t sure whether to blush, to smile, or to fly into theatrics in a way he hasn’t done in months. He chooses to kiss her again instead, pressing his lips to her forehead briefly and tucking a flyaway lock of hair behind her ear. There is no way to be sure how she meant those three words, but Tamaki smiles widely and is filled with sunshine anyway. He is growing up, and he supposes part of this is not agonizing over every tiny detail.

“Don’t forget about us, Haruhi,” he tells her with a slightly teasing smile. “When you’re a famous lawyer and you make a guest appearance on Law and Order and everyone wants your autograph.”

Despite his joking tone, Haruhi’s reaction is serious. She lunges into his arms then, something he certainly does’t expect, and buries her face into the fabric of his shirt. “I could never forget about you,” she assures him, and for a moment he swears he hears tears in her voice. The loud, blaring voice in the loudspeakers announces that the flight Haruhi is taking will leave in five minutes. Slowly, she pulls back, and though her eyes are unexpectedly wet, she is smiling. The twins move forward and hug Haruhi in unison, and Haruhi grabs Tamaki’s sleeve, pulling him into the embrace. He shoots Kyouya a pleading glance, and with a heavy sigh the professional-looking boy moves over and joins them, squeezing into their tight circle. It is only a moment before suddenly something small worms its way into their group hug, waving a pink bunny around and clinging to their waists. A large figure joins in as well from behind, and Tamaki smiles contentedly, struck with the feeling that nothing in the world is missing.

“You didn’t really think we’d miss a chance to say goodbye to Haru-chan, did you!?” Hunny asks. His voice has deepened in the last two years, but there is little else different about him. Mori has grown even taller, and he looms over the group, but the effect is comforting rather than disturbing. “Takashi and I decided we couldn’t miss getting to be together like this one last time!”

One last time… this sounds bittersweet in Tamaki’s ears, and he hugs those around him tightly, relishing these last moments of the old days before they vanish into thin air. There is a silence in which they all hold each other tightly, and Tamaki realizes that none of them want to let go of the warm, comfortable past. And so, he smiles happily and savors being close to his Host Club one last time.

It’s Haruhi who pulls away first, glancing frantically over her shoulder at the people entering the terminal. She is going to miss her plane if she doesn’t hurry, and they all know it. She bites her lip and picks up her carry-on suitcase, turning toward the terminal. As she hurries toward her plane, she stops for a moment, and faces them. Tamaki swears her eyes lock with his as she waves and mouths “goodbye”. Then she turns away again and disappears inside the plane, leaving Tamaki standing there surrounded by the others. Though Haruhi is gone, and though things are going to change, he smiles.

For the moment, he feels completely at peace with the world, and he is determined, if nothing else, to make this feeling last.

Dedicated to the friend whose photo I still keep on my desk. I love you, and though I've only seen you a handful of times since graduation, I promise I'll always care just much as I always did. You're still my sunshine.

Ouran: Thicker Than Water

Wed, 28 Jan 2009 19:02:55 GMT

This is my entry for ouran_contest's "blood" theme. It's much darker and squickier than most of my Ouran fics. I love writing angst!Tamaki, and I think I may have gotten a little carried away ^^;

Caught in the deep
Waiting for a sign
I couldn't keep the flowers on my pillow alive
(From Ben Lee's "No Room to Bleed")

Tamaki remembers the way it looked on that first day, not long after his thirteenth birthday, when he saw the blood for the first time. Anne-Sophie did her best to hide it from him, but he caught sight of the crumpled handkerchief and the dark splotches that stained its pale pink surface, looking out of place amid all the lace. For a time, he tried to pretend it was a fluke, that there was nothing seriously wrong.

When his mother’s coughs became more frequent, Tamaki would sit at her beside and ignore his own worry, reading her story after story until his voice grew hoarse, nothing like the satin smooth one that usually passed his lips. He could read even after she fell asleep and his voice was little more than a harsh croak, almost because he wanted to bleed as well. It wasn’t fair that she, a kind woman who had done nothing wrong and had done everything for her son, should grow ill while he remained healthy. And so the lamp would remain lit beside him as he read to her, sometimes for hours after she fell asleep. Now and then she would cough hoarsely in her sleep, and blood would dribble past her lips. It was when this began happening that Tamaki knew he could run from the truth no longer; his mother’s illness was serious.

Depression set in, and with it a whirlwind of painful things he had never wanted to experience. As a pampered child, pain had rarely been shoved into his face, but here it was. It was raw and painful and red, the color of that blood on his mother’s many handkerchiefs. He carried his sore, sensitive throat like a torch, silently telling his mother “you aren’t alone”. There was nothing he could do for her, and though doctors came and went night and day and slowly dried up the Grantaine family’s wealth until they were living off of money they didn’t have and sliding into dept, they seemed at a loss of what to do as well. Somewhere between when the money began to run out and when the doctors announced they had no diagnosis, Tamaki began bleeding too. It was a beautiful thing, on some level, to watch his own blood skim down his arm and pool in the crook of his elbow. “You don’t have to bleed alone, mother…”

Every time he found blood on one of her handkerchiefs, he would add another tiny wound with the sharp edge of the pin his father had sent him from Japan. It was crafted in the shape of the logo of the school Yuzuru Suoh was superintendent of, and more than once Tamaki had cried at the sight of the golden “OR” flashing in the light of his bedroom as the pin’s point slid across his skin, bringing he and his mother closer in their despair.

When Tamaki learned he was being sent to Japan, he was relieved for more reasons than he wanted to admit. Of course, he would be helping his mother, but there was a more selfish reason beneath all his fake optimism; he would no longer have to sit in the dimness of that house filled with disease and bleed.

Ouran: Save a Dance for Me

Fri, 09 Jan 2009 21:58:58 GMT

This is written for ouran_contest's prompt "dance". It's Yuzuru Suoh x Anne Sophie Grantaine (Tamaki's mother).

Save a Dance for Me

Surrounded by the glittering splendor of the ballroom, they dance. They spin and twirl, unconscious of all around them and unconscious of what may lie beyond this first dance. Her skirt twirls and glitters like frosted sugarplums, and in his dark suit he looks every bit as regal as a foreign businessman should. She keeps close to him, wondering if all this is wise, throwing caution to the wind. It is a bittersweet and fabulous dance, and he twirls her around like a windup doll, caught up in a whirlwind of enchantment.

“You look just like a princess,” he tells her, smiling at her with his mouth and with his soft brown eyes. They seem to see straight through her, and it makes her wary. She doesn’t feel like a princess, what with the strict bun her mother talked her into wearing her hair up in, though the sparkling dress seems to cancel it out. Such idle compliments fall on her ears and leave her wondering if this enigmatic young foreigner can be trusted.

“I’m sure you say that to all the ladies, Monsieur Suoh,” she tells him slightly dryly, and he laughs, a deep and warm sound. In a circle he twirls her, round and round until she can’t help but feel dizzy, and without warning he draws her up to his chest and gives her a long, cryptic look.

“Only to you, my dear. And please, call me Yuzuru,” his eyes glitter again, and she tries her best not to be drawn in by those impossibly bright eyes. He reaches behind her head, and with one quick flick of his nimble wrist, he frees her blonde hair from the bun. It slides down her back in waves, and for a moment she feels like a girl from a fairytale, swept up in the glamorous world of forbidden trysts.

“Some would say you’re far too forward… Yuzuru,” she tries out the name and finds that it slides from her tongue all too easily as though she has spoken it a million times before. A spicy, exotic name that gets her excited all over again.

“And some would say I’m just forward enough,” he replies, leaning in far too close. Her blue violet eyes widen, and she knows she should pull away and move back into the world of sanity.

“I… should really get back to the other guests,” she says clumsily, suddenly aware of just how close he is to her at the moment. She can feel his warm breath skittering across her lips. “There are many gentlemen my mother still expects me to dance with…”

“Then please, make sure to save a dance for me,” Yuzuru said with an almost princely smile. And when he kisses her, she knows there is no running from him now. She sinks into the world of intrigue he has presented her with, and she couldn’t escape if she wanted to.

XXX

Over the next few weeks, she learns more and more about Yuzuru Suoh. He comes from one of Japan’s most prominent wealthy families, and he has just taken over the Suoh empire following the passing of his father. He is also married, she learns to her dismay, to a woman chosen for him by his mother.

“She thinks it unsuitable for a bachelor to run the family,” he says with a glitter of amusement in his eyes. “But she refuses to admit that I’m quite unsuitable for other reasons as well.”

“What possible reasons could there be?” she asks him, enchanted just listening to him speak. Though his French is impeccable, there is a magical foreign lilt to his words that she finds intoxicating. She sits with her chin propped up on her hands, staring across the small table in the Grantaine estate’s rose garden at him. He is still dressed as remarkably as ever, as though he is attending a cocktail party rather than playing escort to a lovestruck French girl.

“Well, I’m not conventional, for one,” he says, and she takes that he means having flings with other women when he goes away on business. “I know eventually I’ll grow up and become the kind of man she sees fit for succeeding my father. But for now, she is rarely pleased with me.”

“I can’t imagine you ever being the kind of man any mother would see fit,” she tells him, and he gives that deep, amiable laugh once more. She gets stuck in the world of his glittering brown eyes, and barely notices when he pulls her across the table to kiss her passionately, drawing her to him. It’s a kind of passion she has never experienced from the awkward suitors that have courted her in the past, the kind of passion she supposes comes from an affair between two bored rich people looking for something new. They are both young and oh-so frivolous, and when he begins to undo her blouse, somehow she doesn’t care. His warm hand slides across her flesh and leaves a tingle behind, and she is powerless to resist the things his touch kindles in her.

XXX

Weeks pass, scattering like the petals of the roses he so often gives her when he comes to call in the evenings. They make love almost more than they go out now, it seems, because there is a fire between them that neither can possibly extinguish. They meet in secret, most often in the gazebo in the rose garden, and they intertwine with a passion that is almost terrifying. He knows exactly how to please her, and she has never felt so unbelievably happy around anyone before

She begins to realize, as the weeks unravel into months, that things cannot always be this way. This is a simple fling, not a real relationship. She has to tell herself this constantly, when he looks deeply into her eyes and she feels that connection that she cannot sever, when he catches fireflies for her or brings her roses. He is full of surprises and so much more playfulness than the other men she knows. Falling for him is unwise, and she knows it, but she cannot help it. A love begins to grow deep within her, burning with a kind of steadfast hope within her heart. Maybe things really can stay this way?

“Anne?” he asks her in the silence of a warm, rose-scented afternoon as they lie in each other’s arms among the blossoms, clothing still carelessly pushed aside from their lovemaking. She lifts her eyes to his and finds them watching her intently. She blushes for a moment, and is furious with herself for this reaction, as she has been nearly every time she has allowed it.

“Yes, Yuzuru?” she replies, and is aware of the warmth that radiates from his gaze.

“I do believe I’ve gone and fallen in love with you,” he says in a voice so very sincere that for a moment she nearly cries. Instead, she falls gratefully into his embrace and relishes the feeling of his heart beating against hers, of his tender lips on her forehead.

“I love you too.”

XXX

She has known that the fairy tale cannot last, but when it falls apart she is stunned, almost to the point where she feels as if she is floating. His eyes are devoid of their usual glitter and he holds her at arm’s length, a kind of sadness etched into his youthful features.

“I have to go back to Japan tomorrow,“ he says in an unusually solemn tone. “I’ve been asked to act as superintendent to a private school that my family helped finance. It’s a rather prestigious school, and it really isn’t an offer I can refuse.”

“I see,” her heart is shattered to pieces, and she knows that she is losing him. She cannot come along, because there is no place for a silly French mistress in the normal life of a wealthy man of status like Yuzuru. The affair screeches to a halt just as the leaves begin to turn brilliant reds and yellows, and her heart falls with them. “I suppose this is… goodbye then.”

“For now,” his smile is a sad one, and he holds her close for a moment before backing away. She desperately wants to hold onto the luminous world they have created, but she feels it slipping from her grasp. She wants to scream like a madwoman and cling to it, but it is hopeless. “But my heart will always be here with you.”

She allows the tears to come, allows all of her weakness to escape as she clings to him, as she holds onto this goodbye with everything she has left in her power.

“I know you’ll be busy with balls and high society life,” he says, and a familiar glitter comes back into his eyes. “But remember… save a dance for me.”

XXX

A few weeks after he leaves, she learns that she is pregnant. A bit of the hopelessness drifts away, and rather than obsessing over Yuzuru she focuses on caring for her unborn child. Nine months fly by quickly, and though she feels the disapproving stares of the other high society ladies on her, she is happy. There is a piece of him left, after all.

The child is born healthy and surprisingly energetic. She names him Rene Richard Grantaine, but then adds in “Tamaki Suoh” in respect for his Japanese heritage. Rene Tamaki Richard Grantaine Suoh. The name has a magical kind of sound to it. She takes to calling him Tamaki, because the name is beautiful and wonderfully exotic, and it’s not long before, to the disapproval of her mother, he is answering solely to the name. She forgets her loneliness completely now, as Tamaki is her little angel who loves her as dearly as she loves him. He is a bright, excitable child with her blonde hair and indigo eyes, but his father’s nature. He gains the adoration of everyone he comes into contact with, and he is the height of excitement in the Grantaine estate.

She spends her days with Tamaki, though he does need time with his tutors and finishing lessons. They lie mostly in the garden and talk to each other, and he often surprises her with roses that make her squeal with delight. They are entirely wrapped up in each other, and she finds once more the contented happiness she had with Yuzuru. Life takes on a colorful joy, and once more she lives a fairy tale.

When Tamaki is seven, her health begins to fail. He spends every moment with her and reads her books, giving up his much-needed playtime in favor of keeping her happy. She feels guilt for taking so much from him, but he will have none of her suggestions that he arrange playdates with other children.

“I will stay with you as long as you need me,” he assures her, and it brings tears to her eyes.

When Tamaki is fourteen, the family has spent so much on her medical bills that they begin to go in debt. Yuzuru’s mother contacts her unexpectedly, and makes her an offer that if she sends Tamaki to Japan to be “properly educated”, the Suoh family will assure that her medical expenses will always be taken care of, and they will find her a position that will keep her financially secure. She would rather die than give Tamaki up, but he has his own ideas.

“I’ll go, mother,” he tells her with resolution in his eyes. He is a playful and sensitive teenager, but wise beyond the expectations of those around him. Somehow, he knows about the offer, and he has contacted the Suohs and accepted without telling her. She holds him close, and weeps for the first time in fourteen years as she watches her son leave for Japan, to become Tamaki Suoh and take up the life that has been chosen for him.

XXX

The years pass, and she hears from Yuzuru often, though Tamaki is forbidden from contacting her. However, Yuzuru tells her every tiny detail in their son’s life. He is popular in school, he is excelling in his lessons, and he has many friends. He has even started what Yuzuru calls a host club, much to her amusement, and it fills her with joy to hear of her son’s life. Yuzuru sends her pictures, and she spends much of her time thinking about him between her duties.

“Tamaki is doing well,” Yuzuru constantly tells her on the phone. He tells her of his plans to see Tamaki wed to a member of his ’host club’, and she listens with some amusement. Yuzuru is too afraid to go against his mother’s wishes, but Anne Sophie wants nothing more than to see him and her son. She makes a wish as she closes her eyes every night that this thing will come to pass, but every day is devoid of them. She begins to lose hope

The spring season begins, and she is busy helping the Tonerre family prepare for the spring ball. It all excites her so much, and when the night of the ball finally appears, she dresses in the gown she wore the night she met Yuzuru on an afterthought. There is something nostalgic about it, and though her mother has long since passed away, she twists her hair into a bun and turns down dance after dance from attractive suitors who obviously do not know she is merely a servant.

She is more annoyed than she wants to admit when she feels someone tug her hair from behind as her hair slips down past her shoulders and tickles her back. Trying to move away, she is suddenly frozen as a hand, warm and strong, grips her arm. And then a soft voice speaks into her ear with all the tenderness her life has so long been devoid of.

“Make sure to save a dance for me.”

EDIT: huge thanks to pekori for pointing out the mistakes and telling me Tamaki's mother's real name ^^
Another Edit: OMG, thanks so much for voting for me, guys! ^^ It makes me feel so honored to have won, and I really appreciate it! <3 <3 <3

Ouran: In Full Bloom

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 17:11:46 GMT

This is my entry for ouran_contest's 500 word drabble challenge "Free". TamaHaru this time, because I haven't written it in a while.

Title: In Full Bloom
Rating: G
Pairings or Characters: Tamaki x Haruhi, Tamaki-centric
Summary: A rose is confined to the soil, and Haruhi is the only one who has ever made Tamaki feel free.
Author Notes: This is the Ouran fic I have always wanted to write, in a way. I love doing things like this, and this challenge was just what I needed.

In Full Bloom

Her hair smells like the roses he so adores, and with one long, steady breath he takes it in. Freedom and safety, a haven from the complicated web that makes up his daily life. These are the things he finds in the soft, lingering moments when he holds her close. There is a fine line between freedom and carelessness, and he knows it. But he also knows that there is nothing else in the world that makes him feel this way.

In the golden haze of summer, the days pass like dragonflies, fluttering beats of happiness and worry. What will become of them after this brief time they have together? What will happen when autumn comes and Tamaki must depart for college in France, while Haruhi stays in Japan to complete her final year at Ouran? It is this sense of uncertainty that grips him when he least expects it, such as times like this as he embraces her in the Suoh mansion’s courtyard, surrounded by a thousand roses in full bloom. Around her, he blooms just as they do, and it makes him smile to realize that she must feel it too, this deep connection they have forged over the years they have known each other.

“I’m going to miss you, Tamaki-sempai…” she says softly, and he can’t help but smile, doing his best to swallow the worry that lumps up in his throat. She is the first person who has ever given him the courage to stand up to his grandmother. She was dead against his studying abroad, and the fact that he is going anyway signifies that something very big has happened, a shift in his reality. It’s all thanks to Haruhi that he was able to free himself from his grandmother’s stifling influence. He owes her everything, and he feels gratitude well up inside of him when he realizes that she has done all she can to help him go, though she does not want him to leave her. She is independent, but she can not hide this truth.

“I’ll miss you too, Haruhi,” he takes her hands in his as he has so many times in the past, and feels that electric charge at touching her. His eyes twinkle as he speaks. “But I have a surprise for you…” she looks at him, questioning, and he almost giggles with sheer delight. He has brought the gift for her out into the courtyard, knowing that neither of them will want to go inside on a day like this. He holds it up and for a moment she says nothing, but then takes it from him with a kind of reverence.

“Thank you,” she says softly, looking down at the potted red rose in her hands. She smiles up at him. “This is so you’ll always be with me, isn’t it?” she asks, and he knows she knows him far too well. “Because you’re just like a rose.”

“Yes, that’s why. But no, I’m not… a rose is confined to the soil, Haruhi, but because of you I’m free to fly.”

Eclair x Haruhi (and Renge) drabbles

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 00:07:06 GMT

Well, these are two drabbles I wrote for Awinchan and Kiki at SHINE.

Title: Three-Sided Shape
Pairing: Haruhi x Renge x Éclair
Rating: G
Summary: Haruhi often wonders why the two don't just designate her as their host at different times.

Title: To Flame
Pairing: Éclair x Haruhi
Rating: PG
Summary: Éclair is determined to have what she so sorely desires, even if it has the potential to tear her ex-fiancé's heart to bits.

Both of them are here: http://moonchild10.livejournal.com/23255.html

Enjoy ^^

Ouran: Darkness and Light

Wed, 15 Oct 2008 17:48:01 GMT

Woo hoo! This is my entry for ouran_contest's 20th prompt challenge, "cautious desire"! Yay! I felt it was only natural to title it in Russian, since it's mostly about Neko-chan ^^ But don't worry, the drabble's in English.

Title: Темнота и свет (Darkness and Light)
Pairing: Nekozawa x Tamaki (one-sided)
Rating: G
Word Count: 486
Summary: Nekozawa admires Tamaki, but due to their personal circumstances it can only be from afar...

He was a whirlwind of color and energy, reflecting the light he so easily existed in. By the scent of flower petals his arrival was announced, and by the scent of shadowed dust he was desired in secret, behind the shroud of mystery and shadow. For there were far more important things than difference; desire, for once. Desire was what broke down the differences between them. And cloaked in his world of absolute secrecy, Umehito allowed that decadent desire to grow.

He had to be cautious, of course. The slightest mistake could be completely disastrous in the delicate balance of his world, so carefully merged with Tamaki’s in moments when his desire got the best of him. For if this desire crossed the line into something more dangerous, there would be very little hope left for Umehito. If this dangerous something became something like, say, love, he knew he would jump into the center of it. For though he was not always brave, he was at heart a romantic. Behind the veil of darkness and mystery, behind those dark eyes so sensitive to the light that Tamaki luxuriated in, there was a desire to be loved just as everyone else, and the hiding shadows and dark mysteries that made up his world did little to change this.

If he were to come to love the Prince of Light, he knew that he would jump at the chance to feel connected, finally, no longer isolated from the world by the dark breadth of the shadow that encased him like a damnable blanket. For a chance at love, he knew that he would be willing to throw off the shackles of his need for darkness and venture into his beloved’s world of light. He knew this could be fatal, but he also knew that it could not be helped. If he should fall in love, though he knew Tamaki would most likely never return any feelings he might have, he would most certainly die.

And so, he watched the blonde from under the safety of cloak and shadow, blinding him with his light and softening his heart with his loud but melodramatic brand of kindness. He lived and laughed with absolute vivacity, something that was strangely appealing. But Umehito stayed in the darkness to worship it, because he knew that in reality there was no such thing as fairy tales. In reality, he would remain in the darkness and Tamaki would remain in the light, and forever they would be separated by the barrier of Umehito’s weakness. But now and then he would venture into the third music room and as he watched Tamaki silently, their eyes would meet.

“Why can’t you see me?” Umehito’s eyes would scream, desperate and lonely but still always oh so cautious.

And Tamaki would look back and smile, but Umehito knew the secret truth; love between light and shadow simply cannot exist.

TamaNeko is officially my Ouran OTP ^.^

Ouran: TamaHaru 31 prompts challenge

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 18:51:22 GMT

Sooooo, this is my answer to Lit's Halloween challenge on SHINE. We were given 31 word prompts, and we have to write a fic/drabble for each one. My pairing of choice to write them on is TamaHaru. Enjoooooy! ^^

1: Pumpkin

“Haruhi!” Tamaki bit his lip, puzzling over the bright orange surface of the vegetable in front of him. “I don’t know how to do this!” he declared dramatically, holding the knife in one hand and gesturing with it like it was a wand. Haruhi winced, sure he was going to end up cutting himself. He was never as cautious as he should be, and it irked her.

“Stop waving that knife around,” she instructed. “You’re going to put your eye out,” she didn’t care that she sounded like an old man… the important thing was that he didn’t get hurt, especially not because of something this stupid.

“Oh…” this didn’t seem to have occurred to him before now, and yet again she was amazed by his dense nature. She sighed as she watched him frown at the vegetable again. “So, I carve the face into it myself? And what do I do with all this?” he asked, picking up a handful of the goo inside the pumpkin and looking distressed. “Am I supposed to eat it?” he sounded horrified by this prospect.

“No,” she told him, just wishing that he would calm down and listen. “You take out all that goo and put it on the newspaper, and yes, you carve the face yourself. Be careful with the knife when you’re cutting it; it’s sharp.”

“I’ve never done this before,” Tamaki sounded enchanted as he stuck his knife into the surface of the pumpkin and began to carve delicately but inexpertly, cutting out what looked like an eye. He looked up at her. “This is fun. You’re going to help, aren’t you? I wouldn‘t want to keep it all to myself.”

“Okay,” Haruhi decided to appease him, picking up a knife for herself and moving into place beside him. By the end of the evening they were covered in pumpkin juice and Tamaki had cut his finger, but Haruhi couldn’t help but think that this was the most fun she had had in such a long time.

2: Black

“Sempai, are you wearing makeup?”

She had good reason to ask, of course. Tamaki’s lashes were a deep, charcoal black. They fanned out and looked surprisingly long in all their sudden, much too feminine splendor. He looked frighteningly good with the new feminine quality

“What?” he looked utterly confused for a moment, and then the realization dawned on him. He brushed a fingertip lightly across his lashes and chuckled softly. “I was trying on some costumes for the Halloween ball, and one of them involved makeup. I guess I must have forgotten to wash it off!” his voice was jovial, and unlike anyone else if they had been in the situation, he showed not a hint of embarrassment. The black lashes fluttered a he blinked. Such a rich, appealing black.

“Um… Tamaki-sempai?” Haruhi couldn’t stop herself from asking, though she knew it was foolish.

“Yes?”

“Um… what costume was that makeup for?”

“Oh, this?” he asked her casually, gesturing to the sultry black lashes. “A French maid!”

Haruhi nearly fainted.

3: Spellcraft

There was something magical about this time of year, and it never failed to thrill Tamaki. He moved happily around the edge of the stage toward where Nekozawa was standing, looking out of place in the festive room with his black cloak and wig.

“Nekozawa-sempai, I just wanted to say thank you again for agreeing to do this demonstration!” he said as he approached him, and Nekozawa jumped at the unexpected voice.

“It’s no problem,” he assured him with even a hint of excitement coloring his voice, and Tamaki smiled happily, clapping his hands together.

“Brilliant! It’s going to be wonderful for our customers to experience a bit of magic this close to Halloween… it will get everyone in the spirit!” he leaned in a bit closer after he said this, his voice lowering a bit. “And I was wondering if I could maybe give you a special request?”

“Fine,” Nekozawa answered with a nod. “This is all your plan, anyway. I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Spelendid!” Tamaki clapped his hands together once more. “I was hoping maybe you could do some sort of…” he blushed slightly. “Temporary love spell, or something to that effect?”

“Love spell?” Haruhi asked from somewhere barely a foot away from them. Tamaki shrieked in surprise, not having noticed her there before. “What’s that all about?”

“Nothing, nothing! Never mind!” Tamaki said, laughing sheepishly as he ushered a flailing Nekozawa away. “Nothing at all!”

4: Blood

There was fake blood everywhere.

As hard as Tamaki tried to get in the spirit and find it festive, he couldn’t see it as anything but ghoulish. She shivered slightly at the sight of it drizzled over the white tablecloth of the buffet table and on the walls amid the colorfully decorated ghosts and spiders. As unmanly as it was, Tamaki absolutely abhorred blood. It made him feel faint. He leaned against the table for support, only to find that his hand rested in fake blood.

“Urk!” he did his bets to wipe it off on a napkin.

“Are you okay, Tamaki-sempai?” Haruhi asked him with genuine concern in her voice. He looked up to find her standing beside him, wearing a headband with a pair of bobbling pumpkins attached that the twins had no doubt forced onto her head. “You look a little queasy.”

“Fine, fine,” he told her brightly, straightening up and shivering slightly before giving his ‘daughter’ an amiable grin. “You don’t need to worry about daddy!” he wiped a bit of sweat from his brow and continued to beam at her, though he swayed a bit.

“Hey, milord,” said a sudden voice from behind him, and Hikaru (or Kaoru) popped up and waved a tissue-paper ghost in his face. Tamaki jumped slightly.

“Lovely party, isn’t it?” Kaoru (or Hikaru) asked, giving him a slightly evil smirk.

“Yes, it is!” Tamaki did his best to hide his current state. “It’s going just splendidly,” he stared at the two, trying in vain to tell them apart as they exchanged a knowing glance.

“Well, it would be,” said Hikaru (Kaoru?) forlornly, hanging his head. “Except for the fact that--” he lifted his shirt to reveal a grisly fake wound, complete with fake intestines and goopy, oozing blood. “I’m dying!”

“Augh…” Tamaki swayed and fell backward, falling on top of Haruhi. With a slight squeak, the two toppled to the ground. Sitting up, Tamaki quickly offered Haruhi his hand to help her up. “I’m sorry!” he wailed apologetically. “I didn’t mean to do that, really!”

“I know,” Haruhi took his hand, though she didn’t put much weight on it as she climbed to her feet. “Don’t worry about it,” she gave him a gentle smile. “Everyone’s afraid of something.”

5: Candy

“Haaaaaaaru-chan!” Hunny shouted brightly, bounding over to her as she took a seat in one of the chairs. Work had not yet started, and as usual in the few minutes before customers started filing in, Haruhi was being bombarded. “Want some candy?”

Hunny was carrying a large, orange bowl shaped like a pumpkin with the top cut off. Inside was a wide variety of Halloween candies in brightly-colored wrappers, a riot of color that almost made her head spin.

“No thanks, Hunny-sempai,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t really feel like having any candy right now…”

Hunny looked surprised, and Mori placed a hand on his shoulder as if to say ‘That’s enough’ before he got carried away. Hunny didn’t seem to take the hint. “Haru-chan doesn’t want candy!? But… candy is good for your soul!”

“My…soul?” Haruhi asked, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes! And it’s always good for making your day happy! Especially around Halloween! It’s the best thing for you in the morning!”

“I thought that was breakfast,” Mori interjected thoughtfully. Haruhi was tempted to laugh, and she smiled at Hunny as he held the bowl of candy out to her hopefully, giving her a big, sugar-induced grin.

“No thanks, I really don’t want any,” she assured him, waving her hands a bit to emphasize this.

“Well, if you don’t want any candy…” Tamaki interposed from the chair beside hers, where he had been surprisingly quiet until now. “Maybe you’d like something else that’s sweet?” he was in one of his rare serious moments, and as he took her hand and kissed it tenderly he gave her a rather sultry smile.

Haruhi wrenched her hand away, her cheeks burning. “No thanks,” she said forcefully, but her heart was pounding.

6: Magic

There was something magic about the air in the third music room that evening. Preparations were being made for the start of the Host Club Special Halloween Week Spectacular, and the excitement was evident. As various club members were being fitted for their costumes and Hunny sat eating candied apples one after another, Tamaki was flitting around the room overseeing everything like a good King should.

“Haruhi, are you having fun?” he asked the female host as he approached her. She was seated on one of the sofas, helping Renge cut out paper ghosts (“it has to be festive!” Renge had declared, “Or there’s no point in doing it!”).

“Sure,” she told him, giving him a slight smile. It made him giddy to see her in a good mood, and he swooped in on her, grabbing her in his arms in a tight hug.

“Oh, daddy is so glad his little girl is having a good time!” he gushed, squeezing her tightly against his chest. She was warm in his arms, and he could feel a light tug on his heart, something that made it difficult to breathe.

He fully expected her to get irritated, to push him away, or to have some sort of unpleasant reaction to his hug. But to his surprise she allowed herself to be embraced, not moving from the warm circle of his arms. And then, before he could even comprehend what was happening, she was gingerly hugging him back. He sighed happily, a smile that was too big to contain slipping across his lips.

It really was magic after all

7: Witch

“Oh you look so cute, Haruhi!”

Contrary to her sempai’s words, Haruhi felt like she looked ridiculous. Associates of the twins’ mother were helping out by designing costumes for the club, and currently Haruhi stood on a stool in the middle of the music room as several bony-fingered women made the final adjustments to her costume. She was the last to have hers done, having put it off for as long as possible, and now she had the rest of the club as an audience to her torture. She now knew that waiting so long had been a fatal mistake.

“Take the skirt in a little bit,” Kyouya said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “It’s going to drag.”

Haruhi sighed. Her costume consisted of a ridiculously fluffy black and orange dress that was supposed to be a witch costume. There was, of course, the customary matching pointed hat, but she felt more like a frilly princess than a witch. She guessed this was all Tamaki’s doing, and cast him a reproachful look. His chin was rested in his hand as he looked at her with absolute concentration.

“I think it might need a bit more lace…”

“More lace?” Haruhi asked, slightly distressed as the others milled around her, shouting suggestions and waving their arms. But through all the chaos, she couldn’t help but notice that Tamaki’s eyes never left her, and when he saw her looking at him a slight blush crept over his cheeks. It was unlike him to be so coy, and Haruhi was more than a bit confused. Tamaki seemed to read her bewilderment, and he offered her a small, uncharacteristically shy smile.

“You look so beautiful,” he said just loud enough for her to hear and looking into her yes from where he stood beside the stool she was standing on. There was so much complete sincerity in those words that Haruhi found herself blushing too. But miraculously, neither of them looked away.

8: Trick

The large, plastic cauldron sat in the middle of the third music room when she entered, looking rather out of place. So of course, being curious by nature, Haruhi decided to investigate. The cauldron was black, so deep that in the confines of the usually bright music room it looked odd and contrasting, especially with the bright orange crepe paper Tamaki had insisted on hanging around the room. Such a strange sight was worth investigating, and she approached it with care.

It was hollow, that much was obvious. She could vaguely see the huge opening in the top, and when she rapped on the side it “bong”ed against her knuckles. She stood up on her tiptoes to peer over the edge, and that was when--

“Boo!” Hunny popped out of the cauldron, waving his arms in the air, Usa-chan in one hand. Haruhi, an unsuspecting victim of the boy’s trick, actually shouted, despite all her usual calm. She staggered backward, waving her arms madly, only to come to rest against something warm. Tamaki instinctively wrapped his arms around her from behind to keep her from falling.

“Haruhi!” he said happily, and she looked up to find him beaming down at her. “Good morning!” his embrace tightened slightly, and she could feel her cheeks heat up.

“Good morning, sempai,” she croaked, jerking herself carefully away from him and heading toward one of the sofas, successfully hiding her blush.

8: Trick
The large, plastic cauldron sat in the middle of the third music room when she entered, looking rather out of place. So of course, being curious by nature, Haruhi decided to investigate. The cauldron was black, so deep that in the confines of the usually bright music room it looked odd and contrasting, especially with the bright orange crepe paper Tamaki had insisted on hanging around the room. Such a strange sight was worth investigating, and she approached it with care.

It was hollow, that much was obvious. She could vaguely see the huge opening in the top, and when she rapped on the side it “bong”ed against her knuckles. She stood up on her tiptoes to peer over the edge, and that was when--

“Boo!” Hunny popped out of the cauldron, waving his arms in the air, Usa-chan in one hand. Haruhi, an unsuspecting victim of the boy’s trick, actually shouted, despite all her usual calm. She staggered backward, waving her arms madly, only to come to rest against something warm. Tamaki instinctively wrapped his arms around her from behind to keep her from falling.

“Haruhi!” he said happily, and she looked up to find him beaming down at her. “Good morning!” his embrace tightened slightly, and she could feel her cheeks heat up.

“Good morning, sempai,” she croaked, jerking herself carefully away from him and heading toward one of the sofas, successfully hiding her blush.

9: Devil

As far as Haruhi was concerned, Kyouya was the devil. There could certainly not be any other explanation for why things had turned out the way they had. Of course, it had been Tamaki’s idea to visit the Halloween maze in the first place (“It’ll be so festive!” he’d declared) But the fact that they had decided to go in pairs had been all Kyouya’s idea. It was only natural that Mori and Hunny went together, and of course Hikaru and Kaoru were a team. Kyouya tagged along with the twins (“To quell their need to cause mayhem, Haruhi. Why else?”). This left Haruhi and Tamaki together, which would have been fine. But it turned out that Haruhi was paired up with the only member of the host club without a sense of direction, and she didn’t have much of one herself.

“Do you think it’s this way?” Tamaki asked her, pointing off to the left.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, rubbing her temples and sighing. “But I do think we’re lost. Could you call one of the others and ask them to help us?” she was starting to get a bit antsy, having been trapped in the heart of the maze for nearly half an hour.

“Of course!” Tamaki declared, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. But when he came up empty-handed, they exchanged a worried glance. “Oh, the cruelty of fate!” Tamaki wailed, collapsing onto his knees. “We’re going to die out here, and our memory will fade from the face of the earth!”

“Sempai… we’re just in the school’s rose garden maze. The only difference is the decorations. I really don’t think we’re going to die…” she walked over to him, sidestepping a wooden ghost that stuck up from the ground on a stick. Placing her hand gingerly on his shoulder, she watched him look up at her and smile. He climbed to his feet, brushing the bits of grass from his pants.

“You’re right, Haruhi. We’ll find our way out of here!” triumphantly, he raised a fist to the sky. “Let’s go!” he reached over and gently took her hand in his. She blushed slightly, but ignored it, and the two of them wandered off in a random direction. They weren’t any less lost, but she was comforted by the simple feeling of his hand in hers.

10: Cat

Tamaki moved like a cat at times, graceful and elegant. The small headband with cat ears attached didn’t help matters, either, and she found herself lost in the way he moved as he swirled around the music room in a whirlwind of splendor. Haruhi could do little bit stand helplessly and watch with fascination as he oversaw the process of decorating the room for the upcoming week (which would be dedicated solely to Halloween).

“Haruhi!” he gushed, catching sight of her. He moved over to her and began rambling happily about some inane thing, all the while looking happily into her eyes with his flashing indigo ones. She couldn’t really focus on the words coming from his mouth, just on his motions and the wonder at the fact that she had never really noticed how alluring they were before. “Haruhi, are you alright? You look a bit… preoccupied.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, biting her lip. “Hey, maybe you should go and make sure Kyouya’s ordering the right color of napkins…”

“Of course!” Tamaki beamed at her. “You bring up a wise point. Farewell, Haruhi, I shall return soon!” and he moved across the room as Haruhi watched his feline grace and wondered if she didn’t see a swishing tail, too.

11: Haunted

“This place gives me the creeps,” Kaoru muttered, rubbing listlessly at his bare arms. The atmosphere of the haunted house was indeed far creepier than Tamaki would have anticipated, and he shivered slightly, nodding in agreement.

“They… certainly have done a good job this year,” he muttered, wondering why exactly the house was out in the middle of nowhere rather than near the school this year, and why it wasn’t built for the event as it usually was. This year a house that had been standing at the far edge of a field near Ouran was the chosen site. It made little sense to him.

“I wonder why it doesn’t have any decorations,” Haruhi said thoughtfully, glancing around at the cobweb-covered walls. “It seems a little weird.”

“Ooooooh, Haruhi, the decorations are missing because a ghost stole them…” Hikaru said, wiggling his fingers, and he and Kaoru burst into a fit of giggles. Haruhi sighed and looked unamused. This posed an entirely new thought for Tamaki, however, and he glanced warily around. He didn’t like ghosts, to be honest. He didn’t even like the concept of ghosts. And right now the thought that they were in a so-called haunted house made matters even worse.

“Ghosts?” he asked, his body giving a slight tremor. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged a devilish glance.

“That’s right, ghosts,” Hikaru said, narrowing his eyes.

“Didn’t you hear? The reason they picked this location this year is because this house really is haunted. Someone got shot here last summer, and ever since people say that shadows flicker on the windows…” his voice was low and spooky, and Tamaki’s eyes widened. He hated to show fear over something so obviously fake and stupid, but he couldn’t stop himself from trembling slightly at the thought of vengeful ghosts from the past closing in around them. He looked in vain for some way to escape the sudden terror. And then, as though a light had broken the infinite darkness, he felt a hand on his arm.

Looking to his left, he saw Haruhi looking up at him, her fingers splayed delicately out over his jacket. She gave his arm a squeeze, and for a moment he swore she really understood, knew the things that lurked behind his front. To his surprise, he felt her hand leave his arm and her arm slip shyly around his waist. Instantly, his fear melted away.

12: Laughter

He loved the sound of her laughter, ringing like delicate silver bells in the room, filling any area with sunshine. He absolutely adored it, to the point where he would do close to anything to make her laugh. To hear her laughing, see that smile on her lips, and to know she was happy. That was his secret goal in life, from the moment he met her. He loved to see his ‘daughter’ happy, and though he was still not sure if more lay beyond that charade of family. But nevertheless, he strived for nothing else.

She was laughing now, at the fairy princess costume that the twins had bullied Kyouya into putting on (they had used a significant amount of force, she was sure). Her eyes were alight with mirth and her face was red with so much laughter. Kyouya looked more than a bit miffed by all this, but whenever he tried to get away, the twins would swoop in and block his exit.

“You look lovely in that gown, Mother!” Tamaki said, giggling a bit himself and earning a poisonous glare from the dark-haired male. But it didn’t matter, because Haruhi, who was swaying a bit she was laughing so hard, inadvertently leaned against him. All other things promptly disappeared from his reality.

Ouran: Little White Lie

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 21:43:53 GMT

Yay! This is my entry for ouran_contest's "little white lie" prompt! ^^

Title: Little White Lie
Rating: G
Pairing: Tamaki x Haruhi, Tamaki x Kyouya
Summary: Tamaki learns the hard way that being melodramatic about small things often leads to disaster.
Warnings: rather silly, written in melodramatic prose as Tamaki would have wanted it XD

It was just a little white lie!

He could never have imagined it would go this far. It had only been to protect her feelings, to keep her safe, as everything else he did was. He hated to imagine even a trace of sadness on her face, and his every action was directed toward keeping a smile there instead. So, he lied. But now, after so much time had passed, it was stifling. It kept piling up and piling up, like so many bricks weighing down on his soul. It was crushing him, and he found it difficult to move under the stress of such an enormous weight.

Tamaki had always been an honest person. He could recall his mother telling him when he was small, “Always tell the truth, and eventually things will work themselves out.” Unwilling to disregard any precious advice from her, Tamaki had done his best to always tell the truth. He had made sure to pick out genuinely good qualities in his customers when he flattered them, he had made sure to admit when he was wrong about things (though sometimes after a bit of time had passed… he still had his pride), and of course when Haruhi had come to him that rainy afternoon and confessed her feelings to him, awkward and barely able to look him in the eye, he had truthfully told her how he felt in return.

Because of all this, in a way, Tamaki had believed his entire relationship with Haruhi was built on honesty. He had liked to think of it as a pure white rose; innocent and flawless and held delicately together, only surviving because of tender care and the constant affection that went into it. And then, of course, the lie had come. He knew he was definitely blowing it out of proportion, but the thing was that that was just the way Tamaki was, filled with far too much energy that he poured into everything, even into agonizing over lying to his girlfriend.

“Tamaki-sempai--” she had begun on a warm but rainy afternoon after school, while they were sitting lazily in the game room of the Suoh household, not really paying much attention to the television that they had settled down to watch.

“Just Tamaki, remember?” he had told her gently for the thousandth time, giving her the kind of smile that rarely failed to make her cheeks grow pink. It simply delighted him when he received that reaction, and he had to resist the impulse to drop his tea and leap on her to give her a tight squeeze.

Haruhi sighed. “Tamaki?”

“Yes?” he had asked her, regarding her warmly over the rim of his teacup. It was one of those perfect afternoons that filled him with warmth despite the weather. Here he was, sitting with Haruhi-- his Haruhi-- and drinking tea lazily, and they were completely at ease with each other. There was nothing in the world he enjoyed more than these perfect moments.

“Well… umm…” Haruhi seemed to be struggling with her words, and Tamaki lowered his cup, slightly intrigued. She seemed nervous, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. “The thing is, Tamaki… lately I’ve been noticing some things.”

“Things?” Tamaki cocked his head slightly.

“Yeah, things… and I‘m curious,” Haruhi took a deep breath. “And I was just wondering… Tamaki, do you have feelings for Kyouya?”

That was the moment when Tamaki’s world froze. He could barely breathe, barely speak, and all he could do was stare at the girl whom he cared for so deeply without words, and hope for a moment that this situation was not real. And all the could think, the only thing that he could hear clearly in his head, was “how did she know?” His mind reeled uncontrollably, his hands sweated, and his eyes trembled.

Of course he had feelings for Kyouya. Those feelings had been dormant in his heart for years, since the very first time he met the shadow king. But they were different from his feelings for Haruhi; his Haruhi feelings were pure and light, ones that made him smile and caused his heart to dance with delicious excitement whenever he dwelled on them. They were like sunshine, therapeutic and uplifting for the soul. They were feelings that allowed him to soar, to shine, and to pour out all his affections openly and not fear her reaction. To him, his feelings for Haruhi were safe. They were feelings that she returned, and made him feel sure and strong.

His Kyouya feelings, however, were darker. They were more selfish, shadowed, unfamiliar. There was a desire to own him completely, a ghost of lust that floated across his consciousness when he closed his eyes. The feelings scared him, made him feel pleasantly weak and decadent as he stared unfazed into those dark, knowing eyes of Kyouya’s. Whenever he thought of them a scream of self-indulgence flew through his mind at the things he could do to the other boy. They were so different from his feelings for Haruhi that sometimes he wondered how love could be colored in so many different ways… how one single emotion could give him two separate sets of feeling.

And so, Tamaki knew he had feelings for Kyouya. But he knew instinctively not to tell her. Feelings for another person are not something you reveal when you’re in love, he reminded himself. He could not bear to see the look on her face when he told the truth. And so he looked his lover straight in the eye and lied. He locked his vision with hers and uttered the “No,” that would soon become the bane of his existence. And afterward he had actually allowed himself to hold her, as though he deserved it.

And so now, a week later, he could feel himself drifting in and out of reality as he sat in the third music room, entertaining a group of girls. Deep in his mind he was drawn deeply into the war of his emotions, the world of love that existed in the dark sensuality of his feelings for Kyouya and the light sweetness of his feelings for Haruhi. It was enough to drive a man mad. Oh, the agony, of the dilemma! Oh, the deliciously sweet insanity of the fact that he could love them both and not even deserve either. Fate was so cruel. Tamaki was more fickle and man than he had ever realized, and the tiny lie and completely altered his perception. He swooned inwardly, floating on wispy clouds of his own regret. And now he sat in his agony, a time-bomb ready to burst at any moment from the sheer pressure of all the emotion building up behind his calm face.

“Tamaki, are you okay?” Haruhi asked him. She was watching him. Oh, she knew. He nearly died inside, on the verge of bursting. Where was the kindness of the fates that he so desperately needed? Life was not in any way fair.

“Of course!” he answered. Another lie! Oh sweet, sweet bitterness! Was he to forever be tangled in a web of his own dishonesty? When would the coils of his lies wrap his so tightly that he would trip and be discovered? How long could be survive? He was sure the expression on his face made him appear constipated. Things had gone too far! The previous week of his life had been utter hell, and he could no longer suffer through the torture. “Haruhi, I lied!” he wailed, not bothering to take her somewhere more private to speak to her, so desperate was his need for emotional release.

“What?” Haruhi looked more than a bit confused… slightly frightened, actually, as he shouted those words and then clung to her in shame.

“I lied to you last week! Oh, I lied!” he wailed. “Oh the dark, horrible shame!”

“What? What did you lie to me about?” Haruhi blinked, and Tamaki wondered why she didn’t look furious or horrified at such a horrible revelation.

“You asked me if I had feelings for Kyouya!” Tamaki wailed. “And I said no! But I do! Oh, Haruhi, I’m so sorry! And I’m so sorry I lied! I’m so sorry for everything! Please forgive me! Please don’t be angry! I swear I will make it up to you in any conceivable way I can! Just say the word and I’ll do it! Anything you ask!”

“Umm…” Haruhi just blinked again, and it was then that Tamaki realized how many people had undoubtedly heard this little confession. Kyouya was one of them, and at the moment he was staring at him with a mixture of surprise and horror. Tamaki felt like he was going to be sick.

“Er…” he immediately blushed a rich scarlet and looked back at Haruhi. “I…”

“Tamaki, you’re making a scene…” Haruhi informed him too late. “And anyway, you don’t need to do all this. Last week, you said no, but then you nodded. You didn’t lie to me at all, and I knew anyway. I was just curious, that’s all…”

“I didn’t lie after all!” Tamaki whispered, his joy returning when he realized that he was not the cold, horrible beast he had believed. He nearly leaped on Haruhi and thanked her, but then he became conscious of another fact… namely that the other hosts and various customers were still staring at him in surprise, while the twins were giving him an amused look that said quite plainly ‘we’re never going to forget this, you know.’ “Oh… he said softly, blushing an even deeper shade of crimson. “I guess I’ll just be going now,” he walked quickly to the door and exited the room, escaping the stares of the amused crowd.

“Well, I guess Tamaki learned a valuable lesson today,” Kyouya said thoughtfully, looking only slightly fazed.

“Ooh! Was it that it’s bad to lie?” Hunny asked, waving an arm around from where he sat perched on Mori’s shoulders.

“No, that he should shut up more often,” Kyouya answered cheerfully, straightening the papers he was holding. “Now, who wants some tea?”

“So there really wasn’t a lesson here,” Haruhi said with a sigh.

“Nope!” Hunny answered her happily.

“Rich bastards…” deciding it was about time to hunt Tamaki down and get him out of his fetal position. She shook her head as she exited and made her way down the hallway. She found him hunched in an alcove, behind a bust of a past headmaster. “Tamaki, are you alright?” she asked him gently, touching his shoulder. The blonde who crouched facing the corner nodded slightly. Coming out of his tight ball, he turned around.

“Yes, and I learned a valuable lesson, Haruhi!” he said, embracing her tightly.

“Oh really? What was it?”

“That instead of lying, I should just tell everyone around me every single solitary thing I feel!” he declared, pointing one hand dramatically skyward. Haruhi sighed heavily, allowing herself to be pulled into another rib-crushing embrace. He really was hopeless, but she supposed she wouldn’t really want him any other way.

Ouran: Gravity

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 15:54:51 GMT

Well, this is my entry for ouran_contest's new challenge ("impending doom"). It had 500 word limit, which I actually managed to stay under for once!

Title: Gravity
Pairing: Hikaru x Kaoru
Rating: G
Summary: Kaoru is tired of being the mature one...

"Brotherly love is the gravity that pulls them together, despite the odds" -???

Kaoru could sense it. He could almost smell it, feel it on the horizon as he went through his early morning routine. He knew his brother better than anyone in the world, and so he could sense the subtle change this morning as distinctly as if Hikaru had turned and shouted in his face, “hey, something is off with me today!”. Every motion, every sentence, every meeting of their eyes was different. And so of course he was not surprised when Hikaru said it, sometime between them brushing their teeth and combing their hair:

“You think I should ask Haruhi to be my girlfriend?”

And of course, knowing Hikaru, Kaoru had known that those words were going to be uttered. But what he was not prepared for was his own intense reaction to them. His eyes widened, his knees threatened to give out, and he had to grip the edge of the bathroom countertop for support. “E-eh?” he asked, peering up at his brother from where he stood, slightly slumped.

“You heard me,” Hikaru gave him his customary, devilish grin, and Kaoru pulled himself to his feet, running a hand over his hair. Of course, the selfless, Kaoru-like thing to do would be to say ‘sure, if you really think she’d want you’ and make some sort of joke, and end up setting them up himself when Hikaru lost his nerve. But today, he didn’t feel like doing this, much to his own surprise. Today, he was tired of being the mature one.

He was getting tired of having to try in every situation to make things come out the way they should, even when it was Hikaru’s responsibility. He had told himself on the day that Hikaru and Haruhi went on that first date-- that he himself had instigated, no less-- that the time had come to break free from their world of being completely wrapped up in each other. And he had vowed that when the time came, he would let him go. But he forgot all of this momentarily and stared at the floor, unable for once to think of what to say to his brother. He just stood, silent and awkward, until he looked up to be met with his Hikaru’s sumptuous golden eyes, only inches from his own.

“Hikaru…” he whimpered softly, and his twin drew him into his arms. Kaoru rested his cheek against the warm chest and sighed. He could feel a gentle hand on his hair, but this time, he needed to say his feelings aloud. “I don’t want you to be with Haruhi!” he whispered against the fabric of Hikaru’s shirt. “I want you to stay mine, even though I know she matters more to you than anyone--”

His words were cut off by Hikaru’s fingertip pressing against his lips, and then by Hikaru’s mouth replacing it. He sighed internally, knowing that, yet again, the pull of gravity had brought them back together. Or maybe it was love…

Ouran: Kisses From a Rose (part 2 of 2)

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 17:18:13 GMT

Title: Kisses From a Rose (working title, you can suggest a better one if you want!)
Rating G to PG
Pairing: Tamaki x Haruhi
Warnings: None
Summary: There is something eerie in the way she can't bring herself to look away from his strangely beautiful eyes, but she dismisses it as a moment of weakness. Every girl has them, she tells herself.
Author's Notes: a collection of short TamaHaru moments, all based on word prompts.
You can also read it on FFN here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4518987/1/Kisses_From_a_Rose

Reach

Tamaki has a girlfriend.

Just that fact in itself makes her feel ill. The fact that it could have been her makes her feel even worse. Because she knows how close she was. She knows if she had only spoken, broken that thick silence that lie between them at that moment, that things would have turned out differently. Now, though he is still her dear friend, there is a tiny, invisible distance between them. Now, to touch him, she has to reach. To feel worthy of his attention, she has to make excuses to herself for why she was silent. To hold him, she has to make some sorry attempt to pretend she is giving him nothing more than a friendly squeeze. And deep down beneath it all, she is miserable. She watches Tamaki with that girl and reminds herself that he should be allowed to have fun. He is a third year; his carefree high school life will be over soon. But it still makes her feel slightly dead inside.

The fact that she is still a host despite that fact that she is now a second year and her gender is known is nothing short of remarkable to her. But her work takes her mind off of the fact that he eluded her grasp. Though she is not foolishly sentimental in the way that Tamaki is, she knows instinctively that there is something terribly wrong with the two of them not being together. But she doesn't know how to remedy it now.

Tamaki's eyes are desperate when he looks at her now and then, as though silently saying "Why didn't you say it?" she knows that he could have spoken first, but he would never put his own happiness before hers, would never force a confession on her unless he knew she wanted to hear it. "Why?" those eyes ask her, "Why didn't you say it?"

But she has no answers.

Tumble

Tamaki has been dumped.

It hurts Haruhi to see him this way, with that subtle sadness in the corners of his smile as he talks to her. It hurts her to see his eyes so devoid of their usual glitter when he talks to customers. But little by little, the sunshine in his smile comes back and her pain subsides. Soon he is once again flitting around like a bird in the third music room, his eyes and smile radiating a glow in the air. He is radiant and she feels muddy and low beside him, so unable to recover from the smallest of disappointments when he can take all the pain in the world and still keep shining. He has taken a tumble and come back brighter than ever, when she is still a coward afraid to show him her feelings.

"Oh, Haruhi!" he gushes, an arm thrown in a fatherly way around her shoulders. "Tomorrow we're doing a jungle theme, and the twins' mother designed you the most wonderful leaf dress!"

"Okay," she replies, giving him a slight smile that he returns with ten times the joy.

She fears she doesn't deserve to hold the place in his heart that she does.

Freedom

Tamaki hates to admit it, but he is honestly happy to be free from his relationship. It feels, in a way, that an enormous weight has been lifted. He had not expected it, but being with someone who is not Haruhi is far more unpleasant than it sounds for him. Being free now, his initial heartbreak at being left yet again by someone he cares for melts away, and he is left with the carefree weightlessness of a songbird. It has taken that one setback to show him how important these feelings for Haruhi are, and now he is no longer afraid to uncage them. His need to restrain his emotions is finally gone, and he makes the most of it whenever possible.

"You look beautiful today," he tells her, kissing her hand tenderly. He swears he actually sees her blush, and this pleases him.

"I'm just in my uniform," she reminds him awkwardly. "I look the same as I do every day."

"And you look beautiful every day," Tamaki declares, looking as deeply into her eyes as she will let him before she turns away and the moment between them is broken. But he smiles anyway, because the warmth of this deep affection for the girl makes him happy regardless of the situation. He carries this sunshine with him wherever he goes.

Unconditional

Tamaki can't help but beam at her as they walk down the hallway together. For a summerhouse, the one the Ootori family owns is enormous even by his own standards, and he has convinced Haruhi to allow him to walk her to her room so she doesn't get lost.

"Thanks, Tamaki," she flashes him a small smile as she says it. "For walking me."

"It's my pleasure," the blonde assures her with a wink. "I wouldn't want you getting lost!"

They are largely silent for most of the walk, and when they reach Haruhi's room Tamaki makes sure to open the door for her. The sound of the rain hitting the windows is nearly deafening, and Haruhi looks down at her feet, unwilling to ask for his company. He chuckles inwardly at her stubbornness.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asks her, as if he doesn't notice her discomfort, as if it is his idea alone. This is the best way to avoid any embarrassment on her part. "In case the thunder starts up?"

"Thank you," is all she says, looking slightly surprised at the offer as he closes the door behind them. And as the storm begins to rage and Tamaki sits on the edge of the bed and cradles her against his chest, he can't keep the smile off his face. This moment is completely perfect. He strokes Haruhi's hair gently with his fingertips, perfectly certain that she can hear his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn't care. He smiles, he rocks her, he breathes her in. And he realizes at this moment that no matter what happens, he will always care for her this much. No matter how many times they fight, no matter where their separate lives go, he adores her unconditionally, and he would gladly give her his soul.

Safe

Haruhi keeps her face buried against his shirt. She is almost deaf to the crashes and flashes of the storm at this moment, with his arms locked around her and his hands caressing her hair. She can barely breathe beneath the crushing wave of emotion that enfolds them. She is so close to him she can hear his heartbeat, and it is hammering as much as her own. His breath is soft against her hair, and she nuzzles closer. She feels like a child for believing that nothing in the world can harm her when he holds her in his arms, but it is impossible to imagine unpleasantness when they are so close together.

Say it
"I promise I'll keep you safe," he whispers. One hand strokes her face, and her breath catches in her throat. His lips press lightly against her hair, and she is rendered completely helpless. One of her hands clutches gently at his shirt and he whispers lightly against her hair. She has never felt so secure in her life.

Gamble
He asks to see her privately after school, and she almost says no, almost fears that she will remain silent this time as well. It comes as a shock to her that he has asked, especially when she knows that the implications of this are too big for her to grasp. She wants to run away. But his smile is too warm when he asks her, his eyes too hopeful, and she can't crush the hope she sees in them. He is the most sensitive person she has ever known, and the kindest. She will not be responsible for causing him more disappointment.
They meet in the rose garden after the day's final period. The sun is warm, the roses are in full bloom, and Haruhi can't bring herself to stop shaking. Tamaki sits beside her at the small table. Here in the gazebo that the two discovered on that day the club played games outside, he is at ease. He doesn't seem to share her fear.
"Haruhi..." he said softly to break the silence, and she looks up at him slowly. What if she ruins this chance too? What if their lives become an endless cycle of coming so close to each other and then slipping apart? What if she is doomed to never have the courage to have the one thing she wants more than anything? She is not accustomed to being so uncertain. It is a symptom of falling for someone like Tamaki, she knows.
"Yes?" she answers him quietly. Their eyes meet, and for a moment breathing is impossible. It isn't normal for her to be so caught up in emotion, and she tries to shake off this feeling, but she is helpless. When she first met him, she had vowed to be one of the few girls who would not fall under his spell, and yet she has. She has fallen hard. And so she waits for him to speak, knowing that this moment, and these feelings, are important.
Tamaki watches her for a moment, smiling silently. But at first, he doesn't speak. Instead, he leans forward and looks her straight in the eye, barely an inch away from her. "Haruhi..." he whispers, his eyes catching hers once more. "Do you want this?"
"What?" she is more than a bit surprised by the strange question.
"You know what I mean," he is serious for a moment, an intensity overtaking his features that is rarely seen in such a place. He seems intent on waiting for an answer, but then changes his mind completely and moves forward in one fluid motion, bringing their lips together gently. Haruhi is so surprised, she swears she is going to go unconscious. Of all the things he could have done, this is the most unexpected. But she falls deep into the kiss, letting go of her fears far more easily than she would normally allow. His mouth is soft and warm, and it covers hers with the unspoken promise that everything will be alright. She clings to him tightly and feels one of his hands in her hair, the other pulling her against him. His scent mixes with that of the roses that surround them, his hair tickles her forehead, and she feels like laughing out loud. This moment is beautiful, and for a beat she wishes she could remain in it forever. But eventually he does pull away, giving her a look that is something between sheepishness and delight.
"I'm sorry," he says, but his eyes are dancing.
"That's alright," she whispers, trying to find herself where she got lost in the moment.
"Haruhi..." he seems on the verge of bursting as he takes her hand delicately, holding her fingers gently as he places a gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand. "I'm tired of all this foolishness we've been putting ourselves through," he swallows, "I love you!"
Slightly taken aback by the enormity of this confession, Haruhi blinks into the sunlight over his shoulder, trying to gain her bearings. When she looks back at him, he is smiling nervously and expectantly at her, a fragile hope shimmering in his eyes. "Tamaki..." she begins clumsily, not exactly sure where to start. "I have... feelings for you too. I'm not sure if they're love, but I do know that they're something more than friendship."
Tamaki looks about ready to smother her with joy, but for once he uses self-control, and Haruhi is grateful. "Does this mean you'll..." she has never seen him so timid, and it is odd to her that he is acting this way. "Be mine, Haruhi?" his eyes tremble as he speaks those words, and the way he is looking at her suggests that he might just up and die if he is forced to take them back.
"Yes," the words come out almost without her consent, but for once she doesn't mind because Tamaki is smiling at her in a way that makes her worry he's going to explode before he pounces on her in a very undignified manner, virtually trembling with excitement. He nuzzles against her, and she gives him a tight squeeze, unable to stop herself from smiling.
"Oh, thank you, Haruhi!" Tamaki gushes happily, pulling back and taking her hands in his. "I promise I won't make you regret it!" he squeezes her fingers lightly and gives her the happiest smile she has ever seen.
"I know," she tells him truthfully with a small smile. "I trust you."
Tamaki seems delighted at this, and he leans over to slide an arm around her waist. "Do you want me to walk you home?" he asks, and it sounds so cliché and Haruhi almost laughs.
"That's okay, I think I'd rather stay here for a while longer," she doesn't want this time to end, not just yet.
"Me too," Tamaki smiles and pulls her gently against him. She smiles, and as she sits and tips her head back, feeling the warm breeze on her cheeks, she can't help but think that maybe there really is a way to find a happy ending.
... her brain whispers to her, and she does her best to follow its orders. All that comes out is a sort of squeaking noise, and Tamaki rocks her slightly, misinterpreting it as a sound of fear.

I might add one or two more chapters if you guys are interested! Let me know if you'd like to see more <3

Ouran: Kisses From a Rose (part 1 of 2)

Thu, 04 Sep 2008 21:31:57 GMT

The first time she meets Suoh Tamaki, it is a complete mess. She wanders into the music room searching for solitude, and finds them instead, which is more than a bit unsettling for her. Why does she always get more than she bargains for? Those indigo eyes flash and sparkle excitedly in her direction as he speaks to her, his soft blonde hair falling unceremoniously into his eyes as he moves energetically around the room.

Haruhi knows it's mostly his fault that she happens to stumble backward, that she happens to hit that pedestal that stands so unwisely in the center of the room. And as the vase falls, it falls in slow motion. She watches it, tries to catch it, because she knows unconsciously that if it does hit the floor these people will become intertwined in her life somehow. She grasps desperately at it, trying to remedy the situation.

But nevertheless, the vase shatters into a thousand glittering pieces. And with it shatters the remainder of her normal life. From the moment she sees the determined look in those eyes of his, she knows that she will be paying for her indiscretions for years to come in more ways than one. Because in those eyes she sees a person who will not give up easily.

Eyes

As a Host, Haruhi must admit she enjoys herself far more than she did as the club's dog. She actually enjoys getting acquainted with the ladies; it is a good way to interact with people while still keeping a bit of distance. It is an odd feeling, being made into something for girls to fangirl over when she is secretly a girl herself. But this is not something to worry about; she must concentrate on doing her job. Of course, it's more than a little difficult trying to do so when Tamaki is watching her so intently.

She can feel his eyes in the back of her head when she turns away from him, can feel him keeping his overprotective watch on her from his place on the next sofa. He is the only person she has ever met who is shameless enough not to at least pretend he wasn't staring when she looks at him. He just keeps those smiling eyes focused on her and locks them with hers when she glances at him. It's nearly impossible to look away from those eyes, as many a girl will contest if she asks them, and she finds that working is harder than it should be when she is faced with them. They are neither blue nor purple, but somewhere in between, a harmony of colors that calls to mind the end of a sunset, just before darkness creeps in. There is something eerie in the way she can't bring herself to look at anything else. But she dismisses it as a moment of weakness. Every girl has them, she tells herself.

Host

As far as hosts go, Tamaki is by far one of the best. Haruhi has little to go by, but as far as she can tell he certainly must be good. The ladies giggle and swoon and he plays his part flawlessly, fawning over them and always knowing exactly what to say. But the strange part is, Haruhi can see sincerity in his eyes with every word, as though he isn't just making it up... as though he really does think every girl he speaks to is as beautiful and special as he says. It is of course a charming thought, but Haruhi isn't ready to buy it just yet. She watches the blonde smile and give out roses, pour tea and kiss hands, and eventually she starts to believe that maybe he really isn't just full of it. Maybe all that sincerity she senses coming from him really is genuine.

"Haruhi-kun? Are you alright?" asks a light feminine voice, which makes her realize she has been ignoring her own clients.

As far as hosts go, Haruhi is not at all bad. Tamaki has plenty to go by, and as far as he can tell she is certainly skilled. She listens intently to what the girls have to say and when she compliments them, she is always sincere. She does not waste time on idle flattery or charm and spends her time making them feel like they are really spending quality time together, like they are really getting to know each other. And he can't help but think, does she treat them the way she wants to be treated? Is Haruhi the kind of girl who dislikes being fawned over as much as she acts like she does? He once wondered if it was just a modest front, but now he isn't so sure. He watches her smile and make conversation, laugh and pour tea. And he starts to think maybe he would like her to be his host for a while.

"Tamaki-kun? Are you okay?" asks a concerned female voice, which makes me realize he has been ignoring his own clients.

Family

Tamaki has declared them a "family". He has named himself the father, and Kyouya the mother. And of course, Haruhi is their daughter. They are a mismatched, dysfunctional little family. Tamaki has found a way to transfer his strange urge to protect her onto a canvas of this theoretical family, and it is a relief not to wonder if perhaps what he feels is something a bit more. And now it is just fine to voice his opinions on how cute Haruhi is. Because she is his daughter! What proud, loving father wouldn't find her cute? It is no longer perverted to long to see her in a frilly dress or feminine skirt. That is what fathers want, isn't it!? Tamaki keeps himself content with this thought.

It is nice, having a family so closely knit. Since he last saw his mother he has not felt such a close bond of kinship. Kyouya has always been like family to him, but now that they have a "daughter" between them he can feel free to gush and shout and embrace his new family as much as he pleases. Because though the other hosts see it as just Tamaki being Tamaki and letting it all be in fun, Tamaki honestly needs this. There is a loneliness and a vulnerability he hates to show the world that hides somewhere behind his usual consciousness. But now with this new chapter of reality begun, the one with Haruhi always there and always within his reach, his smiles are always genuine, never forced.

Could there be something more than family here, he wonders occasionally as he feels a tug of warmth in his chest when Haruhi smiles. Could this be something else? But he must dismiss it, because at this moment such things are far too complicated to grasp, and he is afraid of them.

Storm

For reasons Tamaki has never understood, he adores thunderstorms. The bright, exciting light and the tremendous noise of the thunder have always exhilarated him. Apparently, however, Haruhi does not share his sentiments, judging by the way she leaped into a wardrobe the instant the first crash of thunder sounded. And so, it was this odd order of things that led to him holding her tightly in his arms, her head buried safely under his chin. With every boom of the thunder, she would squeak or tremble, and it made him ache to see her afraid.

"It's okay," he said softly into the soft hair beneath his lips. "It's going to be alright." as she stands nestled against him, that warmth in his chest rises yet again, and though he does his best to push it back down it stays right where it is. A tug of affection, nothing more, and suddenly he finds himself holding her far too tight.

"Sempai..." she croaks, "You're crushing me."

He loosens his grip. "Sorry, Haruhi," he tells her quietly, lowering the both of them to the floor, where they sit in silence save for Haruhi's small fear sounds that she does her best to stifle. There is something undeniably wonderful in the fact that he is standing here holding her, that she is holding him back, and that he can almost feel their hearts beating in synch. She smells warm a sweet and every bit as wonderful as he could have imagined. But why has he ever imagined that? It is a question that won't stop running through his head.

Smile

Haruhi can't help but notice as time goes by that Tamaki has a wonderful smile. When he is happy, it breaks across his face like a sunrise running across the horizon. His entire face lights up, his eyes sparkle, and the room is brightened significantly by that smile. His smiles are never faked or forced, however. She can see genuine happiness in his face, hear it in his voice as he moves extravagantly around the room. He waves his arms in excitement as he speaks, rambling on about any number of things. Sometimes she listens and sometimes she doesn't, but whatever the case she likes to watch him sparkle.

Haruhi has the most adorable smile Tamaki has ever seen. It only took one smile for him to realize it, and since then he has been hooked. Her smile is like a flower blooming; small at first, almost hesitant, but then it grows and widens, lighting up any space and making him smile himself. When she smiles and laughs, it makes him feel giddy and glad all over with a feeling of complete contentment. There has never been anything quite so wonderful in his life as the sight of that smile. Sometimes he will speak to her to see if he can make that smile grow, other times he won't, but whatever the case he loves to watch her shine.

Gratitude

When Haruhi gets out of the bath on Sunday morning, the doorbell rings. She has to hurry to get into her clothes before whoever is standing at the door decides to take their leave. When she finally does make it to the door, her hair still dripping wet, a certain blonde host stands before her, wearing a blue sweater and a smile.

"Haruhi!" he chirps happily, his eyes glittering in pure pleasure. She finds herself happy to see him too, and she steps back to let him in. Rays of sunlight from outside come in with him.

"Tamaki-sempai, what are you doing here?" she asked, though not harshly. Not rudely. She even smiles a bit, honestly happy to see him standing there when she knows there are a million much better places he could be right now.

"I came to say thank you..." he sounds almost shy, which is a rare occurrence. Standing there in the living room, he looks oddly small, and he lifts his eyes to hers with more restraint than usual. "For bringing me back... for making me see that I was needed."

"You already thanked me, sempai," she reminds him, touching his arm lightly. "You don't need to do it again. It was nothing, really..." Did you really think I would let you leave me?

"But it wasn't nothing," suddenly, he is moving, and in a display that only he would dare attempt, he has grabbed her and pulled her fiercely against his chest. Haruhi is surprised beyond action, but the blonde doesn't seem to care. He has bent slightly and nestled his face into the crook of her neck. "I thought I needed to go to be happy... I thought if I went with Éclair and was able to see Mother, things would fall into place," his lips are warm as they move, brushing lightly against her skin. "But you showed me how wrong I was. Because when you were in danger I realized that... I could never stand to be so far away from you, to not be able to be there when you needed me."

"Sempai..." Haruhi says softly, slightly stunned. She has always known there was more to him than the others gave him credit for, but she is still surprised by the candor of his words. He smells fresh and light, just as always, and she tentatively buries her face against his chest and keeps it there. I couldn't stand be to away from you, either, she wants to say. But the words get lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth. So she says nothing.

Tamaki pulls away slightly and gives her the warmest smile she has ever seen. They simply stare at each other for a moment, and Haruhi knows they are both waiting for the other to speak, to say what so desperately needs to be said. She hates herself for remaining silent and being a coward, but the moment slips away.

TO BE CONTINUED. >8D

ZOMG Twincest

Sat, 30 Aug 2008 01:07:11 GMT

WOOOO!
So... I finally poted chapter 3 of my twincest story XD And just realized that I totally stole Noriko and Akira's last name from Kyouya (I started it before Ouran was a big fandom of mine)...
And anyway, feedback? --> http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2520845/1/Boku_no_Heart

I went for a bike ride with my family today, and we got so tired that none of us can move now XD

Ouran: Dans sa Rêverie

Wed, 27 Aug 2008 21:11:58 GMT

Woo! My submission for

ouran_contest's 17 theme, "vacation"!

Title: Dans sa Rêverie
Rating: R
Characters: Tamaki Suoh
Pairing: implied Tamaki x Haruhi
Warnings: non-explicit masturbation
Notes: The poem at the beginning and ending are by me. Though I don't see why anyone would... don't rip them off XD The one at the end is the same one as at the beginning, just in English

EDIT: I just want to say thank you so much to everyone for their amazing feedback! I'venever written for Ouran before, and I really appreciate all the kindness! You've all brightened my day and I hope I can do the same to yours!

Les mèches fragiles du charme modeste
Tombent aisément de vos lèvres
Si je suis le premier pour prendre cette main molle
Alors je me baignerai dans la splendeur de
Goutte de rosée d'un lever de soleil sans fin
Pour quelle meilleure manière est là que pour
Maintenir la mémoire vivante
Avec la promesse simple qu'on
Oublie jamais vraiment l'amour

In his own home, far away from the pressures of being perpetually perfect, the tight coils of stress and tension that he keeps hidden so carefully behind that well-maintained face slip away. He is left only with a sense of relief as he locks the door of his private bathroom behind him, shutting out the sound of the large, empty house. Inside that large, pastel-themed room, there is only Tamaki and the sound of his own thoughts, more deafening than any other noise he has heard all day, but he doesn’t mind. His personal silence is welcome, and it’s a privilege that does not often come with living such a public life.

The sound of the water splashing into the tub is almost therapeutic, and he perches himself on the porcelain edge, twirling his fingers through the hot water that cascades past, so quick and so impossible to grasp. Tilting back his head, he finds himself comparing it to unconsciously to the fleeting feather of a dove in the breeze, to the elusive hand of love. He chances a sigh and finds it deafening in the silence, his only companion the soft thundering of that endless stream of water. The calm silence is a much-needed vacation from the rather hectic schedule that being king of the Host Club entails.

As he sits amid the swirling steam and the cheerful sound of the running water, he finds himself musing, wondering, as he does unconsciously many times in a day when they are apart, what Haruhi is doing. And of course, thinking of Haruhi sets in motion a chain of thoughts with leads to his tension rising a bit as he wonders for the millionth time, “Does she like me?”

Of course, though Tamaki is the first one to admit that he is an optimist, even he knows that her having any feelings for him at all is unlikely. “She would show it, wouldn’t she?” he wonders aloud. “If you have feelings for someone, shouldn’t there be some indication?” and yet again he is left with that feeling of uncertainty deep in the pit of his stomach that shouldn’t be there. He should be confident, sure of himself. But he hates to admit that his sunny demeanor is occasionally forced under the pressure of living up to his father’s expectations. A thousand thoughts swirl in his head, and he can’t help but find these thoughts unfitting as part of his mini vacation.

Letting his turbulent thoughts go, he strokes at the petals of one of the roses that sits in a vase on the small table beside the tub. Slender fingers draw the single rose from the face and delicate hands clasp it gently. He brings it to his nose and smells its sweetness. And slowly, he plucks off a petal, indulging in a childish whim. “She loves me,” he mutters, dropping the crimson petal into the rising bathwater. He plucks another and lets it fall, “She loves me not.”

The petals float gracefully on top of the water, and the last petal falls on the words “She loves me”. It is enough to bring a smile to his face, and with his cheerfulness renewed, he turns off the tap and slowly begins to strip, discarding his powder-blue blazer in a heap on the floor; today is about indulgence, not being neat. Slowly, his nimble fingers open the buttons of his undershirt, and he shudders as his own cool fingertips brush the sensitive skin of his chest. And he wonders, in his moment, how it would feel to have someone else remove his clothes, slow and sultry. He wonders how it would feel to have someone else touch him his way, as his fingertips caress his chest once more. He indulges himself in the thought of what it would be like to have Haruhi touch him this way.

Even just the thought of it makes him blush, and yet he does not refrain from letting his thoughts travel where they shouldn’t. He allows himself to imagine that these are her small fingers grazing his chest, his stomach. He dares to pretend it’s her stroking his smooth nipple that springs to life at the attention, pinching it finally and make him squeak softly. There is nothing wrong with fantasy, he reminds himself as the hands slowly slide his trousers and boxers to the floor and he steps out of them. Even though he usually likes to reserve himself from thinking this way, this moment is different. This is a break from daily life. This is a moment where dreams and reality have no real line between them.

As he lowers himself into the warm water, his body relaxes, the last coils of stress melting away. He lies back in the water, intent on finishing what he has started. His hands travel slowly down his chest and stomach, delicately sliding over his hipbones. He stays locked in his fantasy, and the familiar sensation of his hands gliding over his own skin feelings different, magnified by the what ifs; what if these were her hands? What if she was touching him this way? What if it was Haruhi who was stroking his thighs, his hips, making him grow aroused without so much as touching that place that is increasingly begging to be touched as his hands move over hot, wet skin? He cannot recall ever being turned by simply this before, and marvels at the strength of his feelings for the dark-haired girl.

The warm water laps at his skin as his hands move, and cold cannot be the cause of his trembling. His hands slide slowly, delicately over the wet ridges of his hipbones and his fingernails sink slightly into the flesh, prompting a moan. His hands stroke his inner thighs and gasps, imagining her light fingertips caressing him. He feels weak, vulnerable, because though they are his own hands that touch him, it is the influence of Haruhi behind them that makes it feel this way. Breathing is nearly impossible at this moment. These thoughts should not be enough to make him feel this way, and the thought that they are makes him feel almost afraid. No one should be this helpless in the face of such emotions, his thinks as he squirms desperately beneath his own touch, all while caught up in his daydream. .

At long last he slides wet, slick hands exactly where he needs to be touched and moans softly. He whispers her name into the soft silence of the blue-themed bathroom as his entire body grows warmer, belittling the heat of the water that encases his body. Wet, desperate hands work toward the goal that so desperately needs to be reached now. Because now, in all the desperation of the moment his mind is so hazy with need that he can almost make himself believe that this is Haruhi touching him. These are her hands, and her voice echoes softly in his ears, soothing him as he pushed against the obstacle before him, working toward release.

Steam curls up from the water, tiny tendrils of soft mist that sheath him in a world of his own. The sunlight that slants in through the window catches the mist and fills the room with gold dust as glittery as the trails of fairies. As he moves, thrashing slightly, the rose petals that float around him rock like tiny boats in a turbulent sea. He is whimpering now, off in a world of his own in the large, steamy bathroom, the very air around him becoming soft and poetic in the face of his fantasies. His soft moans mingle with the sound of the splashing as he moves frantically, closer and closer with each passing second as he nears completion, all the while imagining short dark hair and brown eyes.

“Haruhi!” his hoarse cry cuts through the quiet when he can no longer stand holding back, and he throws his head back, sweat sliding down his forehead as he splashes a bit of water over the tub’s sides in that final, fantastic moment. For that moment he is suspended in between reality and fantasy, writhing for a moment until his fantasy is gone and he is left to collapse back into the now tepid water, the fever of the last few moments fading quickly. Sunlight swirls around him, unassuming and innocent as though it did not witness the intimate scene of only seconds ago, as though it lies forgotten.

The rose petals are wilting now in the cooling water, and the flush is draining away from his feverish body as he slowly comes down from his high and lets go of the painfully intense emotions that keep their stranglehold on his insides. Deciding he is too exhausted now to bother washing his hair, he climbs cautiously out of the tub and wraps himself in a fluffy blue towel and pulling the plug. He listens to the sound of the water draining. He plucks each petal from the water and throws them away. The wall is cool against his back as he leans against it, gaining his composure. His heart beats quickly at the thought, the delicious exhilaration, that maybe his feelings alone are enough, as though they have the intensity to change her feelings about him. He feels almost giddy, smiling softly to himself in the powder blue warmth of his own secret world.

“Master Tamaki?” he hears a voice from outside the door. “You were shouting. Is everything alright?”

“Of course!” he calls cheerfully to the maid, the remnants of his fantasy world fading as he pulls on his bathrobe and opens the door. “I just slipped, that’s all!” And as he leaves the warm confines of the bathroom, he steps back into his life, slightly uneven but held together by the thought that things can only get better with time. He gives one last glance back at his private place and then heads onward, pushing to the back of his mind his strong hope that sometime soon he will once more be lost in a reverie.

Fragile wisps of modest glamour readily fall from your lips
If I should be the first to take that soft hand
Then I will bathe in the dewdrop splendor of an endless sunrise
For what better way is there than to keep memory alive
With the simple promise that one never truly forgets love
An imprint on a fragile heart that breaks as it is still beating
It will carry on a glittering tribute

Writer's Block: Your Threads

Mon, 25 Aug 2008 01:13:21 GMT

What does your favorite "you" outfit consist of?

View 500 Answers

XD This is fun! Hmm... let's see. It'd have to be my pink patchwork dress with my pink strawberry shirt over it and a sparkly headband. And pink go-go boots :3

Sat, 23 Aug 2008 06:07:29 GMT

Well, first entry! I'm going to start posting random things sooner or later. But if you'd like to friend me, go ahead. Whoever you are, I'd love to get to know you! ^^ Y

Go ahead and send any randomness you'd like my way!