Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Curse of the 'Flu ❯ Cucumber Sandwich ( Chapter 15 )

CHAPTER XV: “Cucumber Sandwich”

 

But he didn't, really. After being dunked in a bath full of ice-cubes and made to run around the dojo, he wanted nothing more than to lie down in a nice, warm bed and perhaps go to…

Tamaki shook him; Hunny repeated a question.

He yawned and verified that he was probably high on caffeine, not drunk or insane, as originally supposed - though he may have been a little insane, having had no sleep for almost forty-eight hours…

He looked at Tamaki, who crouched behind Hunny.

As for his seeming obsession with Kaoru… that, he could not easily explain; not without reference to the night of January the-

`HA HA HA!' laughed Tamaki, pushing Kyouya aside and out of the dojo. `Hunny, we have troubled you enough! I think we must be going! Thank you for your support in this strange and trying time!'

Hunny waved in the distance, `Bye-bye Tamaki! Bye-bye Kyouya! I'll tell Mori you both said “hi”!'

Tamaki waved back. He waved. He was waving. He wasn't waving anymore. `Kyouya,' he said, severely. `No caffeine EVER for you.'

`Very well,' said Kyouya, adjusting his glasses.

`And NEVER mention the night of January the-' Tamaki shuddered. `No! It's too horrible!' He flailed at the image. `Oh,' he said, `and why are you obsessed with Kaoru?'

`I'm not obsessed with Kaoru.'

`He was all you could focus on…'

`He was the last person I saw-'

`But you saw me!'

`-when I was sane.'

Tamaki stopped and took his phone out. As he texted for a chauffeur, he mumbled, `I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen.'

`Thanks,' said Kyouya. `I'm sorry, too.'

`What for?'

`For the two of us: unable to realise our feelings and confess them to the right person.'

Tamaki blinked. `I'm flattered,' he coughed, `but I just think of you as a friend…'

`I meant Haruhi.'

`You love Haruhi?'

`No, I-' Kyouya paused. `Tamaki,' he said.

`Yes, Kyouya?'

 

 

Haruhi sneezed.

`Not getting the 'flu, are you?' asked Ranka, who was lying on the floor of the living room as Haruhi read at the table.

`No, Dad,' she said. `Someone's just talking about me.'

`Ah…! One of those handsome boys from the Host Club, I bet, wishing they could date my sweet and lovely daughter…!'

`…I doubt that very much.'

`Oh you're so cute, Haru-chan!'

`Dad, stop that! I'm trying to read!'

Ranka tried to read too, but he had cucumbers on his eyes and was dripping mud-mask on Haruhi's textbook. `You know,' he said, `it wouldn't surprise me if one of them had an interest in you, because according to my very good source-'

`Kyouya?'

`Hahaha! No!' Ranka lifted a cucumber; Haruhi glared. `Well, maybe, but-'

`I'm trying to study.'

Ranka watched Haruhi turn a page. And then he lay back down. `You really aren't interested, are you?' he said. `You spend all that time with them and not a single one seems to have captured your interest… Hmm, I wonder why that is?'

Haruhi turned a page.

`Is it because of me? Is it because of my job?' he murmured. `They say, don't they, that sons like to marry girls just like their mothers, so could it be the same thing with daughters…?'

Haruhi turned another page.

`And if their fathers have a job like mine, dressing up as a woman instead of a man… could it be that your image of the ideal man is ruined by the androgynous conduct of your-' Ranka covered his mouth and sat bolt upright. `Oh Haruhi, Haruhi…!' he wailed, clutching her by the hands and staining them with mud. `I have failed you! I have failed you as a - as a - I don't even deserve to be called that! Can you ever forgive me for what I haven't done?'

Twirling and dancing.

`You haven't failed me, Dad,' said Haruhi, smiling tenderly at the mess. `And what should I forgive you for? You haven't done anything wrong-'

`HAVEN'T I?' demanded Ranka, his face a melting mud swamp. `You don't even like boys and you tell me that isn't failure!?'

Haruhi handed him a tissue, trembling. `Just because I don't like them right now,' she said, `does not mean that I never will.'

`Maybe you're attending the wrong school,' Ranka muttered, lost in a spiral, lost to the world. `Maybe you're better off at Lobelia… I'll call for a transfer… I'm sure they'll understand…'

`Dad.'

He looked at his daughter; she was staring at her textbook. `What is it?' he asked, putting down the phone.

`Why do people want this?'

`Want what?'

`Want me to end up with someone.'

Ranka rubbed his cheek, thoughtful. `Well…' he said, examining his muddy fingers.

`What's wrong with just studying hard to get my diploma so I can enter a good university?'

`Nothing…'

`Isn't that what parents want their children to do?'

`Yes,' sighed Ranka, and pressed a thumb to Haruhi's forehead. Hmm. Nice fingerprint. `But there is more to life than the knowledge of a book - isn't there, Haru-chan?'

Dancing carrots.

`Not really.'

`Hmm…'

`So who has a crush on me?'

`Ha-ha! Not telling! Not telling!'

`You'll tell me sooner or later - you always do.'

`Oh no, not this time,' winked Ranka. `Only the boy can do that.'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3