39At six in the morning Haruhi's phone rang clearly throughout the room. She froze, hairbrush halfway through her hair. Her mind rushed towards the last time it had rung at such an odd time.
Mr. Ootori—
She hurriedly reached for her phone, fumbling slightly before she managed to get it out of her pocket. Her eyes frantically tried to scan the caller I.D., but in her haste the hairbrush—still stuck in her knotty hair—swung around and hit her temple.
"Ow!" she exclaimed, reaching up to grab her forehead. Swallowing a curse, she forced her eyes to the screen. Immediately her body relaxed, only to tense a second later in irritation.
"What do you want Tamaki?" Haruhi sighed, flipping the phone open. His shift didn't start for another two hours.
"The inspector's coming!" Tamaki screamed, and Haruhi yanked the phone away from her ear. His loud voice could still be heard easily. "I need a place to keep Antoinette because she's not allowed to be here but I've had her forever and I can't give her up and I need help and the twin's mom is allergic, Mori isn't picking up, Hani is teaching a self-defense class, Kyoya is distracting the inspector to give me time to get her away and HELP ME!"
Haruhi blinked, her mind struggling to translate the long run-on sentence into something she could understand. Tamaki was still panicking, and surprisingly Haruhi had never heard him talk so quickly. He sounded close to tears.
"Wait, wait, wait," Haruhi finally managed to call out. "Who are you talking about?" Tamaki didn't seem like the type, but the way he was phrasing it made her question what exactly he was roping Haruhi into . . .
"My dog!" he exclaimed. "We're not allowed to have them at the orphanage and I wouldn't usually ask you but no one else is picking up. I promise I'll watch her and you won't even have to see her, I promise, just please let her stay the day at your house. Please, please, please, please, I can't imagine what would happen if I lost her, she's always been with me."
"Tamaki," Haruhi groaned, massaging her head. There was already a steady thrum pounding behind her eyes.
"I'm sorry!" he blurted out. "I know this is last minute and probably really frustrating and I'm sorry, but I really can't think of anyone else and you kind of owe me for not mentioning your mom anyway. Please!"
There was a definite note of panic in his voice now, and Haruhi could just imagine the tears welling up in his eyes. It was just like him to get so emotional over a simple pet.
"I would've told you about my mom if you had asked," Haruhi began, irritated. "But that's not the point. Look, just get out of the building if you can. I'm going to call someone else and then call right back. Don't do anything stupid."
"Okay . . ." Tamaki said, sounding fearful and dejected. Haruhi's stomach twinged in pity.
"Look, it'll be alright, okay? Your dog will be fine one way or another."
There was silence on the other line, until Tamaki's voice came back on, oddly quiet.
"Thank you Haruhi," he said seriously. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
"It's fine. I'll call you back in a minute."
Quickly, Haruhi hung up and dialed another number.
"Hello? Mrs. Kurakano, I know you don't usually come in today, but I was wondering if . . ."
. . . o0o . . .
Tamaki tackled Haruhi as soon as he saw her, spewing out countless thank yous, and for once Haruhi allowed it. But when a large, golden dog leaped at her as well, she decided that social niceties only went so far and tossed them both off.
"That's enough!" she exclaimed. The two shared twin looks of dismay. It was that moment that Tamaki noticed Mrs. Kurakano.
"Oh! Hello, miss. I'm terribly sorry for being so rude and ignoring you, but I was so overwhelmed with joy at not losing my dog I was blind in my happiness."
Kurakano laughed, pushing at Tamaki's shoulder. She was an old women with greying hair and a hunch, but she could run faster than most of the kids Haruhi knew. Her brown eyes could look as warm as honey or cold as steel if the occasion called for it. Few people made the mistake of underestimating her; something in the way she stood—as if she knew exactly where she was supposed to be and was already there—made you want to respect her. Even Ranka referred to her as Mrs. Kurakano instead of just Kurakano.
"Don't worry about it dear, it's always a delight to meet someone who doesn't call me old before they know my name." The women said it with simple happiness, but Tamaki gasped so loudly it sounded fake. He grasped her hands dramatically, and Haruhi sighed.
"Of course not! How could anyone judge such a wonderful maiden on her age? Age is but a number, and surely you must be stout of character if you work for Haruhi and aren't insulted! An amazing feat: even I, myself, have yet to achieve it!"
"Hey!" Haruhi shouted, but Kurakano laughed and Tamaki didn't seem to realize the insult. "Look, this is my gardener, Mrs. Kurakano. She's going to be looking after your dog today."
"Eh? But I thought I was going to . . ."
"Don't be stupid," Haruhi said, putting a bit more bite into the words than necessary. "If you do that, how are you supposed to pay back your debt? Besides, it's more convenient this way. Mrs. Kurakano usually comes twice a week anyway."
"Oh, alright then," Tamaki said cheerfully, before his face once again relapsed into confusion. "But wait, you said she was a gardener."
"She is."
"But . . . it's January."
"And?" asked Haruhi, confused.
"I'll handle this one, hun," Kurakano spoke up, patting Haruhi's hand. "The Fujiokas have a greenhouse, but don't exactly have a green thumb to go with it, if you catch my drift. I come over in the winter to take care of it."
"Wasn't that obvious?" Haruhi asked rhetorically, but Tamaki shook his head anyway.
"Ah," Tamaki said to Kurakano, "well in that case I must thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to care for Antoinette—" Antoinette jerked up at the mention of her name, and tackled Tamaki before the rest of the words left his mouth. Kurakano laughed, and Haruhi decided that she could handle them for the moment. Probably.
Either way, she should probably change out of the silken nightgown she was wearing.
. . . o0o . . .
"So if I get a pet, I get bring it here?" Hikaru asked later, after the host club had all arrived.
"No," Haruhi said bluntly. "Antoinette is only staying for today, and only because there was no other choice. What exactly happened, by the way? Tamaki was too emotional for me to bother trying to get a straight answer out of." Currently he was playing with Antoinette, as Haruhi had given up trying to get him to actually work.
"Of course he was," Hikaru snorted, but a fond smile played on his lips. Kyoya spoke up to explain.
"As we live in an orphanage, the government occasionally sends people to make sure that everything is going smoothly. Normally Mrs. Takada—the head caretaker—will warn Tamaki in advance so he can take Antoinette away, but today was a surprise visit. I had to distract them while Tamaki sneaked away with Antoinette." Kyoya scowled as he said this, annoyed.
"Eh?" Huni asked. "But didn't she end up offering to write a recommendation letter if you ever needed one for college?"
"That may be true," admitted Kyoya, though the frown didn't leave his face, "however due to Tamaki's rashness I ended up being more resilient than I would have liked."
"But you still got it," Mori pointed out, and Kyoya acquiesced with a nod.
"Ne," Huni suddenly piped up, turning to Haruhi. "What did your dad want yesterday?"
"Hmm? Oh, he just wanted to remind me about the party we throw every year."
"Party?" Kaoru asked jokingly. "Are we invited?"
Haruhi frowned thoughtfully. "You may be there as servants, but I haven't decided yet. I never really hired too many people to give out food, so it would be suspicious if six people are suddenly there."
"Suspicious," Haruhi saw Kaoru mouth to himself curiously, but she forgot it as her phone rang. Quickly, she excused herself and left the room—the host club could, and would, listen in and interrupt her conversations. She still had to send chocolates to Kasumi.
"Hello?" she asked, once the host club was far enough away.
"Haruhi?" her father asked. Haruhi blinked. Ranka usually slept during the day, so it was odd for him to call her so early in the morning. Even more than that, Ranka had called her work phone, which he rarely did. The last time she could remember it happening was for her mother's death.
"Yes? Did something happen?"
"Absolutely! Guess what it is!"
"No." The worry in her stomach floated away. Obviously it wasn't too important if her dad was joking like this.
"Aww," Ranka whined, and Haruhi could hear the pout on his lips. "Come on, just one guess!"
"I said no, just tell me."
"Fiiiine," her dad complained, but his tone was faintly pleased. Obviously, he had wanted to share the news himself.
"You've been moved up in school!" he exclaimed.
"Wha—really?"
"Yes! The school has finally realized your amazing intelligence and decided to move you up to Class B. You should be in Class A," his tone turned annoyed, but it was quickly washed away, "but that's nothing new. I can't believe it! My precious daughter has finally been recognized for her outstanding amazingness. Oh, I could sing—"
"Please don't," Haruhi cut in. Her mind was swirling. Unlike most schools, Ouran Academy's classes were based both on grades and political standing. It was the worst kept secret in the school, but everyone pretended to not know about it. Ranka wasn't lying when he said she should be in Class A.
Currently—or rather, yesterday—Haruhi had been at the top of Class C. She could have been at the bottom of Class B, if she had been willing to dumb herself down, but her pride bristled at such an idea. Her I.Q. hadn't changed, but neither had the Fujioka Law Firm had any sudden increase of popularity. So why . . .?
Kyoya! Haruhi's mind suddenly thought with a flash. But no, that didn't make sense. Chairman Suoh wouldn't have any idea of Kyoya's parentage—even if Haruhi was right with her guess. The Suoh and Ootori families did not have prominent connections, so it didn't make sense for Yuzuru to know. Perhaps Yoshio had called in a favor? Yet that seemed like such a juvenile move for the man to make. It was like screaming to the world that he had an interest in Haruhi.
"—so wonderful and—Hey! Are you even listening to me?" Ranka's twittering voice suddenly broke through her thoughts. He must have started talking again at some point.
"Sorry dad, I'm just surprised."
"Well, I'm not," Ranka said firmly. "Even an idiot can tell how intelligent you are. You work harder than almost anyone else in that school; you deserve this. Don't overthink it Haruhi."
"Alright," she agreed easily. Arguing with him only lead to frustration for all parties involved. But he had a point. There was no reason for her mind to go in circles trying to find answers she didn't have. "Is that all?"
"Yeah, but remember that I love you! And stay away from that tick, I really need to get an exterminator to check out our mansion."
"Bye dad," Haruhi said with a roll of her eyes. The day he uttered Tamaki's name would be a cold day in hell.
. . . o0o . . .
"He didn't tell you, did he?" Kyoya asked later, when the host club was busy with their individual chores and Haruhi was checking over her winter break homework. She looked up curiously, following Kyoya's gaze and seeing Tamaki chasing Antoinette.
"Tell me what?"
"Antoinette was a present from his parents."
"Huh?" Haruhi exclaimed, eyes widening. "But I thought—"
"Both of us are orphans, but when Tamaki was five he was sent that dog as a gift. He's convinced it was from his parents."
"Oh," Haruhi mouthed quietly. Tamaki's reaction seemed much less exurbent now.
Geez, and I treated it as if it was just another one of his fits . . .
"Why didn't he tell me that?"
"Tamaki, for all his foolishness, doesn't like worrying others. He most likely didn't want to guilt you into taking in Antionette."
"That's stupid!" Haruhi exclaimed. "No one can make a decision if they don't have all the facts. Tamaki shouldn't have to hide something like that."
Kyoya gave her a searching look, and she looked defiantly up at him.
"Yes, I rather agree with you there. But it's in Tamaki's very nature to protect others." Haruhi opened her mouth again, disliking how Kyoya made it seem like they had no chance in the matter, but didn't get a chance. "We, as his friends, must return the favor."
And just like that, the anger seeped out of Haruhi. Her eyes were automatically drawn to the hyperactive blonde. He was being chased by Antoinette, looking so happy and care-free you would never guess he had called Haruhi earlier that day in tears.
"You're not nearly as cold as you pretend to be," Haruhi told Kyoya, but her gaze never left the blond through the window.
. . . o0o . . .
Haruhi had walked to the green house in the hopes of talking to Tamaki—possibly asking why he hadn't told her anything—but Mrs. Kurakano intercepted her on the way. Evidentially she had wrestled Antoinette away from Tamaki, as the dog was laying in her lap.
"How are you, by the way?" she asked genially. "Not too stressed? I know this time of year can get a bit hectic for you."
"I'm fine," Haruhi said with a smile. "Thank you for your concern. I never thought that having six more employers would make everything harder though."
Mrs. Kurakano laughed, jostling Antoinette.
"Eh, don't be too hard on them. They try their best. Tamaki kept insisting on staying with his dog until the tall one and small one—can't remember their names—came to get him. Even then they had to practically pull him away."
"That's Mori and Huni—er, well, I suppose you would call them Takashi and Mitsukuni."
"They seemed nice," the gardener mentioned. "Pretty sure Tamaki will be back before the end of the day though. Don't really see the need for me to be here with the ruckus he's putting up to stay with his dog."
Haruhi was half tempted to roll her eyes at that, but the conversation she had with Kyoya kept her thoughts at bay. It was odd to think of Tamaki's eccentricities actually having some sort of depth to them.
Antoinette perked her head up, as if smelling something odd, but a few pats from Kurakano calmed him down.
"He really is a sweet little thing," the gardener mentioned in her wizened old voice. "And the dog is too! Hahaha."
"Yeah," Haruhi agreed, going to rub his ears when she noticed something. Blinking, she flipped over the dog's ear.
There was an odd shape there. At first it appeared to just be a black smudge, but if you looked closer you saw it was a birthmark. It appeared to be a four legged animal, but an anvil laid over it, giving it the grotesque image of an animal being stabbed. It was oddly elaborate, but before Haruhi could study it closer Antoinette shrugged her hand off and ran off. Mrs. Kurakano laughed again.
"That dog has more energy than I have years left! Welp, better go after her before something bad happens. It was nice talking to ya, Haru." Here she paused, clearly questioning whether to keep going or not. Eventually, she continued. "Ya know, the older you get the more you remind me of your mother."
Haruhi smiled sweetly, partly to mask the fact that she didn't know how to respond. It wasn't the first time someone had compared her to her mother, but Haruhi never knew how to respond. Thanking them was uniform, but always seemed so bland and inauthentic. Luckily, Kurakano took the choice away from her as she started to chase after Antoinette.
Alone now, Haruhi dropped her smile. It wasn't exactly a lie when she had told Kurakano that she was fine, but it was far from the truest thing she had ever said. The host club's antics constantly pulled her away from the planning, and she always had to rush at the end of the day to catch up with what she had set out to do. True, she threw the party every year, but that didn't make it less stressful. Nothing could afford to be imperfect.
"Mrs. Fujioka?" a guard asked, and Haruhi lifted her head. She had forgotten how close to the greenhouse she had been.
"Yes?"
". . . If the six are really making things that hard for you—"
"Hmm? Oh, it's not them. The party planning is just a bit much. It should pass soon, it's just I'm still adjusting to it. I'll be fine within the week."
"You sure?"
"Of course," Haruhi said with a sugar sweet smile. "This happens every year. I'll be fine soon."
"Alright," the guard said unsurely, stepping back into his post by the greenhouse door.
Making sure to seem untroubled, Haruhi started walking back towards her mansion. The guards were a constant in her life: they went wherever she went. The only place they didn't follow her was Ouran Academy, which provided its own security. It was easy for them to fade into the background and disappear from memory. Usually that wasn't a problem.
Except Haruhi—for all her apparent bluntness and rashness—had raised herself to present herself as people expected, while retaining enough of herself that no one realized. Forgetting someone could be dangerous.
In some ways, it already had been.
xXxXxXxXx
A/N 11/27/15: Hello my wonderful readers! I think this is the fastest I've ever updated.
There are two things I want to address. One, I'm still looking for a beta reader. Two, I've noticed something about reviews. Less and less people are reviewing, and there was only one review last chapter. I'm going to keep writing either way, but only getting one review is a bit discouraging. Thank you to Winter Coma for reviewing so much. All of your guys reviews can really encourage me, even if it's just something small saying you like it.
That aside, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!