FicWad

Dressed
Part Three


From behind the closed door came the distinct thump of a body hitting the carpet. Kyouya winced.
"Haruhi? Is something wrong?" Not a very bright question, but then he hadn't expected her to drop from shock at his offer.
At first there was no answer, and he knocked. "Haruhi?"

"I'm. I'm alright. It's okay," she replied faintly. Kyouya rested his forehead against the wall, felt his shoulders relax a notch. He was unsure what he would have done if she hadn't answered. Perhaps it was best not to think about it.

Moments later, the door swung open and Haruhi came sleepwalking out, more or less dressed in her tuxedo. He experienced a swell of relief coupled with minor confusion. Relief since, assuming she'd dressed consciously, the tuxedo meant she accepted at least the first part of his terms, and would join the party as final payment against her debt. Confusion because, well, had she dressed with her eyes closed?

Her shirt was tucked in crooked, the sleeves bunched up around her jacket elbows. The collar was twisted, and what on earth had she done with that bowtie? He approached carefully, seeing her glassy look, the eyes of someone gone a million miles off in their thoughts. He hadn't anticipated his offer having quite this effect, otherwise he most certainly would have presented it after the party. As it was, they weren't going anywhere soon.

"Haruhi?" he asked, waving his hand in front of her eyes.
"Hmmm?" she blinked, not really seeing him.

He sighed. "Here, your tie needs fixing." People seeing her like this would draw every wrong conclusion. The guests. The Host Club. /Tamaki/. Best he get her sorted now.

At first he was uncomfortably conscious of his fingers knotting her bowtie, centimeters from touching her bare throat; a little too close for his comfort. But she didn't react to his proximity. She hardly even knew he was there, and he found confidence; fixing the crease at the back of her collar, ignoring her hair tickling his fingers. He rucked up the sleeve of her jacket, to tug the shirt cuffs down over her tiny wrists, and held her hands to readjust the cufflinks. The trick was to remain detached, concentrating on making her presentable and forgetting that he knew more than yesterday, about what she looked like under these clothes.

Such knowledge did him no good. At this juncture, it did no one any good. Never mind that she was fascinating, contradictory, with her quick mind and stubborn will, wrapped in this vulnerable girlish frame. Never mind the discovery of her calloused palms; that he'd never touched a girl whose hands were roughened by housework. Never mind that it would be so easy to grow attached to her. So very, very easy.

He worked at her cuffs until they lay neatly under the jacket sleeve, tugged at the lapels until they were even, and was thoughtlessly on the verge of buttoning her jacket, when he chanced to look up and meet her eyes. It was almost his undoing.

She had come to and discovered him, seeming less surprised than /expectant/, somehow. Her eyes were warm and aware, lips parted on the edge of a soft question, and if there was ever a moment for a boy to bend down close and kiss a girl, surely this was it. Nothing would need saying; he could lean in and touch his lips to hers, show her his heart, and belong to her for good. He felt the moment rushing up to meet him, heady and sweet, as he looked at her.

Then she whispered. "I'm free." And something in his chest cracked wide open. A terrible clarity flooded his thoughts, cold as ice water.

This isn't the time.

He pulled back and breathed deeply, feeling like lightning had struck and missed him by inches. One moment of weakness, and he had almost upended both their lives. He had obligations to three dozen people downstairs, not the least of whom was his best friend. He was responsible for them, and for the future of the Host Club. He'd taken responsibility for Haruhi's future too, offering her another year with the Host Club and the chance to earn money she would very likely need for college. Would he really have gambled all that, to satisfy one selfish desire?

"Senpai?" Haruhi asked. "Is something wrong?"
Kyouya looked away, collected himself as best he could. "We should go down, if you're ready. People might start to worry soon."

"And then my debt really is paid. That's what this certificate means, isn't it?"
He nodded.
She sighed heavily, looking grave in her thoughts. Melancholy, even.

"Senpai, have you ever." There was a pause, and she tried again. ""Have you ever gotten something you wanted very much, and then found when you had it, it wasn't what you thought it would be?"

Had she become a mind-reader now? Kyouya didn't know whether to laugh, or tear his hair. "I have."
"If you hadn't come in, I would have left. I would have gone home, and skipped the party, and missed this," holding up the documents. "I was angry, and tired of being pushed around by everyone. But I'm not angry anymore. I'm just." She gestured helplessly. "Nothing will be the same, after this. It feels like end of things, tonight."

He knew what she meant. Hunny and Mori were leaving. She might be leaving, for all that he knew. And as absurd as Tamaki's notion of the Host Club as a family was, there must be something to it. Why else would Haruhi's words feel so much like homesickness to him?

"I don't disagree," he told her. "But everything moves on, Haruhi. Perhaps we don't all move apart, but we do continue moving on. That's how it works. Although it doesn't all have to end tonight." Indicating the papers she held. "Not if you agree to join us next year."

She tilted her head up, taking his measure. "And what's the catch, Senpai?"
"Aside from another year of the Host Club imposing on your free time?" He shrugged. "There isn't one."

"You knew I'd be stupid to turn down thirty million Yen."
Kyouya pushed his glasses up. "I should probably tell you that's a conservative estimate. You could do better, if you work hard."

She chuckled halfheartedly, gave him a wry smile. "You really want me to sign that contract, don't you."
He took refuge in cool pragmatism. "It's good for the Host Club to keep the assets it can. In practical terms, everyone benefits from you staying with us."

"I'd like to think about it," she told him. "Can I do that, and give you my decision later?"

It seemed reasonable enough. After all, she hadn't had a choice about joining the first time. And honestly, Kyouya had lost any desire to coerce her into things. She was right about everything changing. More right than she realized at present.

"I can give you time," he said, "on the condition that this is kept between us for now. You could see for yourself the inconvenience, if others realize you're free to leave the Club, and might in fact do so."

"They might fall all over themselves to make me stay." She looked mildly horrified. "God, it could be like that time with the Zuka Club all over again."
"Precisely," he nodded.
"I won't tell anyone."

Glancing at his watch, he saw he'd been away from the party for a quarter of an hour. He was amazed Tamaki hadn't sent up a search team yet.
"So. Are you ready to go now?" he asked.
"Sure."

They crossed to the door together, passing the coat rack where Kyouya had hung the green dress for the twins to retrieve. He paused for a last look, still unable to imagine what had possessed them to try and put her in such a thing. It was a dress fit for a fairytale princess; an exquisite confection of satin, lace, and flounces. Certainly beautiful, and he couldn't fault the twins' tastes; this was a dress to rouse the covetous envy of nearly every girl in the school.

It had only one serious flaw: however you looked at it, Fujioka Haruhi was not that kind of princess.

"Are you coming, Senpai?" She stood waiting at the door, ready now to help host this last party, ready to go forward and meet whatever the future would bring.

He couldn't see why anyone would want to make her into someone else. There were too many things about her that shouldn't ever change.


******


"Ah, Fujioka," beamed Chairman Suoh. "What a pleasure to see you here."
"That's very kind, Mr. Chairman." Haruhi bowed. "Thank you for coming to our party."

The evening was in full swing, and every guest was having a delightful time. A jazz ensemble had replaced the string quartet, playing lively dance music, and the hanging lanterns overhead cast festive warmth all around. Though some partygoers waxed nostalgic, it was impossible to dwell on sadness at such a gathering. If any girl looked somber, it wasn't for long; she quickly found a Host by her side, bringing her cheer.


*

"Where were you Haru-kun?" asked Hunny. "Takashi and I were afraid you might not come."
"Mmm," Mori agreed.

"I'm sorry I was late," she answered. "I didn't want to miss your party. I just had trouble getting ready."
Hunny peered closely at her. "You weren't sad about anything, were you?"

Haruhi's cheeks reddened. "Maybe a little. I'll miss you both very much. But I'm glad I came anyway."
"Oh, Haruhi!" Hunny's eyes glistened, and he tugged her into a tight embrace. Mori bent to lay his hand on her shoulder.

Every girl in the vicinity sighed, clutched at her heart, and dabbed her eyes.
"Such a touching scene!" they said. "What beautiful devotion among boys!"

*

Having endured a stern talking-to from Tamaki, and a terrifying one from Kyouya off in the shadow of a quiet hedge, Hikaru gingerly made his way through the party, toward the main table. It was time he faced Haruhi now.

"Hey," called his brother, waving from where Hunny, Mori, Tamaki, and Haruhi all sat in a happy group. "Come join us, Hikaru."

Kaoru was perched on the arm of Haruhi's chair, and Hikaru approached from the opposite side.
"I just talked to Kyouya," he murmured. "He says you and I have to stay and clean all this up afterward."

Kaoru shrugged philosophically. "I figured something like that would happen. Tried to tell you."
Hikaru shot a brief glance at Haruhi, laughing with Hunny and Tamaki. "Would you tell her I'm sorry?" he said quietly.
His brother snorted, and elbowed him affectionately. "Idiot. I already apologized. Tell her yourself." He slipped from the chair arm, and neatly shoved Hikaru over to take his place.


*


A photographer worked among the guests, capturing memories of the party for the "Special Host Club Year-End Photobook", an edition available exclusively to that year's graduates. On his way through the crowd, Kyouya steered the photographer away from the table where Chairman Suoh enjoyed himself, and toward the main table, where the Host Club had congregated.

"Excuse me, Kyouya-kun?" said a girl at his elbow.
"Yes, Mitsuko-senpai," he smiled. "What can I do for you?"
"I was just wondering, are there any group photographs being taken? I mean, of all the Host Club together?"
"Now that you mention it, I don't believe there have been." He nodded toward the photographer, who took the cue. "But it's an outstanding idea for the Photobook."

She blushed and smiled. "Thank you, Kyouya-kun."

*

Hikaru sat next to Haruhi, looking awkward and contrite.
"Kyouya said you almost quit the Host Club because of what I did," he confessed.

Angling a bit away from the others, she replied in an undertone. "I was angry, Hikaru. You can't just bully people when they don't do what you want."
"So it's true then?" he blinked at her, stunned. "You really would've quit?"
"You didn't believe Kyouya-senpai?"
Hikaru shrugged. "I thought the dress would be fun. Like at the festival party."

"Did you stop to think maybe that wasn't much fun for me? Anyway, nobody would've fallen for that Lady Natsumi story a second time."

"I'm sorry I hid your clothes. Are you still mad at me?"
Gazing around the party, she said, "I decided I'd rather enjoy this time with my friends, than be mad. Does that make sense?"
"I guess."

"Pull in closer, everyone!" Tamaki cried, off to their left. "We're getting a Host Club group photo! Here let's have the twins down in front, and Hunny-senpai, you move closer to Haruhi, yes, don't forget Usa-chan...." He directed them all into place, until Kyouya came and dragged him over to stand behind Haruhi's chair, next to Mori. Kyouya himself took the place at Haruhi's other side.

"All right everyone, on the count of three!" said Tamaki.

Haruhi chanced a peek up at Kyouya.
"One!"
"It's a good party, Senpai," she said. "I'm glad I came."

"Two!" The guests voices rose to join in the count.
"It wouldn't have been the same without you," he replied.

"THREE!" the group shouted.
Facing the camera, Haruhi grinned broadly and said, "We'll have to think of an even better party next year."

"Smile, everyone!"

The camera flashed, fixing them all forever, together on one bright frame of film:

Mori's rare enormous smile; Hunny with his plush rabbit in his lap and one arm over Haruhi's shoulder.
Kaoru and Hikaru seated in front, flashing symmetrical peace signs and identical grins.
Tamaki with a hand on Mori's arm, beside himself with joy, and Haruhi and Kyouya both laughing, laughing, laughing.

*

The guests applauded wildly, and the band struck up another song.



END