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Chapter notes: Disclaimer: No owning. But if anyone could tell me where to buy a Kaoru, please give me a call, ne?
AN: There weren't supposed to be more then one part from the beginning. Now there will be three parts.
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Haruhi
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”So, which one of us do you like better?”
There is such little hesitation in his voice, that for a moment she isn’t sure which one of them it is that is talking. The voice belongs to Kaoru, but the words are Hikaru’s.
As if he is pretending.
There is a pang of realization, and she stares at him, searching, somehow wanting to find that she mistook one of them for the other, just this once.
Because that would be easier.
Because that is still what they want.
But it is still Kaoru that looks at her, it is still Kaoru’s eyes and Kaoru’s mouth, and Kaoru’s cheekbones. Hikaru’s smirk.
And the disappointment is annoyingly strong.
She smiles to hide it. From him. From herself.
As usual.
“That doesn’t really matter, does it?” she says, and she knows that it is wrong, wrong, because it does matter. “Because neither of you wants me to like you in any other way than I like the other… right?”
And that, that is true. His eyes tell her so.
Even if they aren’t Hikaru’s.
She turns away, smile still on her face, feeling a little stronger than usual, a little taller. She knows that Kaoru is looking at her, that he’s confused, that her words haven’t been enough. They’re still too complicated for him to understand.
Even if he isn’t Hikaru.
“But you know…” she turns around, and she knows that he will have to listen, because this is too easy to not understand.
Even if he had been Hikaru.
“If I were to chose, I’d say I like Hikaru a little better.”
His eyes change, and she doesn’t like it. Kaoru’s eyes are distant, sometimes, scheming, sometimes, but never cold. Never cold like this.
What was that?
It is frightening, and she has to explain herself, somehow, so she adds;
“At least Hikaru doesn’t try to set me up with his brother behind my, and his, back.”
She blinks at him, reaches up to him, the finger that wants to trace his cheekbone stops at his nose. She has to go away, away from him for a while, hurry, because he can see, right now he would be able to see, see that what she doesn’t even look at herself. Not yet.
They are not ready yet.
They catch up to her just inside the doors to the music-room. Tamaki-senpai scolds Hikaru and Kaoru for being late. Hikaru responds by pointing out her delayed arrival, too.
Kaoru stays silent a little while longer then Hikaru.
He’s angry?
Kaoru steps up to her, and she can only just feel the slightest of hesitations before his arm settles around her, and she almost freezes from the surprise running through her; he’s not angry, before he agrees with his brother, “Yeah, why won’t you yell at her too, for a change?”
It is strangely comforting, to feel his hand on her hip, the teasing tone in both of their voices, trying their best to copy the exact same attitude as the other one, and managing to do so. Things are back in order, Tamaki-senpai’s long gone into one of his usual acts, Hikaru steps up on her other side, resting his head against hers, their smiles are mocking, teasing, she is once more degraded to being their toy.
Their toy.
Their support.
Where are we going? Do any of you know?
Kyouya is the one who saves her from her thoughts, as usual, as he directs Tamaki’s attention towards this day’s opening of the Host Club. His eyes linger at Haruhi for a moment, as is he’s waiting for her to follow his demand.
What demand? What does he want from me?
And Kyouya and Tamaki is complicated, and hard to understand, and they are head-aches and sleepless night full of confusion, and Hikaru and Kaoru are easy, they are hers, just like they want her to be theirs, and for some reason, she can’t find the strength to step away from the two bodies leaning towards her. Not yet.
And then, Hikaru withdraws, and Kaoru follows. A little slower.
Haruhi glances up at him, and she wonders if he knows that it was a mistake, that he should never have asked, never had tried to be Hikaru, because now there’s something there that is her fault, something she has to fix.
He meets her gaze, but not for long. There’s something in his eyes, a scared animal, and she knows that he’s not ready.
They’re not ready.
And somehow, she’s glad that she knows that, before somewhere, deep inside, she’s not sure that she’s ready either.
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Part two - Owari
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