The Deceptions We Practice
Theme: #32 Deception
For some reason, I love to write them right before Kyouya goes after Haruhi with a vengence. I suppose I have ample themes left to deal with their courtship stage, as well as the proposal and inevitable wedding scenes.
When Kyouya first met Fujioka Haruhi, she had a ring on her finger.
Five minutes later, she was being introduced as his best friend and rival’s fiancé.
Surely, he thought later that night, surely five minutes are not that distracting.
She was stupid, if only for accepting Tamaki’s proposal, he concluded, knowing the other man very well.
Did she want his money? He wondered, examining her polite, if not bored, expression.
Tamaki, on the other hand, was beaming, more excited than ever.
Fujioka-san watched him for a moment and then sighed, turning away to the heir of the Haninozuka family to chat.
Kyouya’s gaze sharpened - she looked much happier talking to the sugar addicted munchkin. He decided that joining Tamaki’s circle might prove interesting this time.
There wasn't even an effort being made to hide how different their feelings were, he thought, and didn't know what conclusions to draw from that.
Two hours later, Kyouya had a pounding headache from trying to pry information out of the blond. Tamaki would only sing her praises, never revealing exactly who she was, if she had family, or why such an unknown seemed un-thrilled to be marrying into one of the most powerful and rich families in Japan.
He considered giving up and going home, but that would mean Tamaki had won by concealing information from him.
Kyouya had, of course, considered using his various methods to look up her information, but felt instinctively that little would come of it.
“Tamaki,” came a low voice by his side, and he started slightly.
“I’m heading home,” she told him, touching his arm lightly before turning away; Tamaki, however, dropped the conversation he had been holding and flew after her. Kyouya watched with disgusted horror as the young woman made strangling noises.
“I’ll walk you home!” he said gallantly, and Kyouya watched with the same curiosity that had plagued him all evening as she skillfully peeled the blond heir off, and gave a tired glare.
“I’m getting a taxi. You know it’s too far to walk. And I have a case in the morning, so you don’t need to keep me company,” she said, defeating him on all counts before he could protest, and made it out the door in better time than Kyouya had ever seen anyone make.
He was aware of the twins’ speculative glances nearby.
Perhaps another half-hour of interrogation wouldn’t hurt…
-
When he stumbled across her three weeks later, he almost didn’t recognize her.
A brown, no-nonsense suit fit her slender build, and her hair was drawn tightly back with bobby pins that blended into the dark strands.
Until their eyes met, she had looked almost grim, dark eyes serious.
She blinked a bit at seeing him, the small smile of recognition making him realize that even as starched as she appeared, she was still amazingly attractive.
He scoffed at his own thoughts; Tamaki would never pick a dud.
The smile seemed to welcome him to join her in the busy floor of the business building, so he did.
He was still curious, after all.
“How are you?” he asked politely; Kyouya only dropped his ingrained manners when in the middle of a corporate fight.
“Fine,” she replied, her deeper voice catching him off guard yet again. If she wasn’t so pretty, he would mistake her for a man in this guise.
Why could he never remember correctly what her voice sounded like?
“It seems Tamaki hasn’t broken his habit of being late to everything, even after all these years,” she said, catching his attention.
“Oh?” he murmured casually. “You’ve known him long?”
She nodded, the faintest of smiles on her lips as though remembering something.
“My mother used to be friends with his.”
Stomping footsteps indicated the blond’s rushed arrival.
“Sorry, Haruhi!” he apologized, looking ready to cry over his sins.
“It’s fine. My next meeting got pushed back an hour,” she said, digging through the heavy briefcase at her side.
“Here you go. And make sure you don’t lose it; your father would murder you,” she warned him, dropping a small diamond ring into his palm.
A ring Kyouya couldn’t help but recognize.
“Haruhi,” the other man whined. “Couldn’t you just keep it?”
She scowled at him, hands going reflexively to her hips. “You promised it was only for one night, remember? We are not getting married. Remember?”
The pitched wail was ignored, unnoticed, as Kyouya’s brain went into overdrive.
This, he thoguht, was quite interesting.