Oddballs - 2 chapters
Fic Update!
Some would undoubtedly regard Haruhi and Tamaki’s plunge into the river that pivotal day as a reason for him to feel jealous or insecure, in the face of Haruhi’s devotion to their President.
Instead, he is quietly reassured.
Not just by Tamaki’s decision to stay with them, but also by the fact that Haruhi has chosen to face how precious the Host Club (and by definition all its members) are to her.
After all, if he is to ever have a chance to change her thinking, he will first have to know her scorn for the Host Club members has disappeared.
The extremes she has gone to today give him hope.
He mentally marks it as a turning point, but doesn’t feel the need to share this with anyone.
-
Kyouya’s never wasted pretty manners on Haruhi, not even after she had earned his respect.
This is because it is not necessary; it is because she could care less about the details of how upper class citizens should behave, and because she has already seen through the act.
He also knows that should he use friendly manners with her, Haruhi would only grow suspicious of some scheme.
Back when they had first met, Kyouya had intentionally revealed his own personal mask, though his initial reason was far different than the one motivating him now.
So he will not make the effort, because he’s looking farther down the line.
If Haruhi might ever be persuaded to choose him, after all, she will need to know exactly what she is taking on.
-
For now though, she is happy to be with them - all of them. And as she drips dry, her laughter is confirmation of that.
As the sun sets beyond the bridge, Kyouya makes another silent, personal note.
For the first time he’s willing. Willing, and quite possibly eager, to let someone else see it all, ready to take a chance on being chosen, or not
She wanders to the end of the porch as the sun is setting, watching the sky turn magnificent colors as night gently extends its reign.
Only when deep violet is left on the horizon does her companion emerge from the depths of the house.
He is older, and so cannot bear the sun’s late rays like she can.
This time, though, she thinks that his lateness springs from a different reason - he has been absorbed with a search for the past few days on his computer. He drifts to her side (she still has trouble, sometimes, with finding descriptors for how he moves, how she now moves), and gazes over the fields beyond them with unfocused eyes.
“Have you succeeded?” she asks, a little bored by now with only her own company and the silences.
That had been the reason he gave, after all, for his turning her.
-
She had been on her way home, late from work, when she had stumbled upon him in a fight with two men.
To this day she did not know what their purpose had been in engaging with him; druggies usually were too out of it to be violent, and the few moves she had seen were not slurred as a drunk’s would have been.
At the same time, they had worn no uniform and looked scruffy, at best.
Of course, then he had won and there’d been two bodies in the road, rather than two men, and he had turned to her.
She couldn’t imagine what her expression must have been, but he’d snarled at her - not something the faint of heart could bear with composure, or even a toughened street kid for that matter - and yet facing her death she’d been preternaturally calm.
Something of that must have cut through his rage to reach the intelligence that existed behind the fearful face, and he had trapped her against the nearest building with something like gentleness, his entire manner suddenly calmed.
She had further shocked them both by meeting his eyes - she hadn’t forgotten the warnings she had heard all her life, but for once her curiosity had overrode her caution.
The grip on her shoulder was firm but not painful, and so she had lifted her face to the one just above hers, only inches away.
Light gray eyes had stared back at her, a hint perplexed.
Haruhi had no idea how long they had stood there, examining each other, the two dead bodies forgotten behind him, as he seemed to read much more of her than she was able to of him.
He had finally given a short laugh, which was not at all as a human would have sounded, or even as anything normal should have sounded, and pulled away from her.
“I never thought to find someone like you by chance,” he’d said in cultured accents, but his voice was otherworldly and seemed to resonate in the air with a power of its own.
She had carefully kept herself from flinching at all of these things, and then tilted her head, intrigued.
-
Haruhi never returned home that night, and by the next nightfall, she had suffered through the change. She still had not worked out why she had agreed, for it wasn’t just because he could have easily killed her for her refusal.
He had been gracious about her new thirst and patiently taught her how to hunt.
They had stuck to animals, one of his first and only teachings.
“Feeding on humans is not worth the consequences,” he had said in such final tones that she neither felt the inclination to ask how he knew, nor to question what he had been about (other than hunting) in killing the men the night they had met.
Besides which, his mandate fit exactly her own preferences.
She’d been human much longer than she had been a vampire, and her character was such that even a change of species (it was easiest to think in scientific terms, she’d found), would not alter her values.
Now she looked at him, face and mind focusing.
“I’ve found traces of them,” he answered her, and she rocked on the balls of her feet, feeling the chance for a run approaching.
It was still hard for her old habits to conquer the new; this body required exponentially more movement than the old had, and the desire to hunt could still overwhelm her if she did not schedule nights to do just that.
“Are we going to search, then?” she inquired.
White teeth flashed in the growing darkness.
“Yes. For a vampire and a magic handler,” he said, finally deigning to explain to her what his weeks long preoccupation had been about.
One brow rose, but Haruhi didn’t question him further.
When there came a light touch on the back of her hand, she followed him onto the shadow pathways, her new nature catching hold of her with exhilaration.
Well, Haruhi thought to herself, this was surely more interesting than inventory.
A/N: This was a tribute to two of my favorite vampire tales: Sunshine by Robin McKinley and Twilight by Stephanie Meyer. If you haven’t read them, go, now.
Some would undoubtedly regard Haruhi and Tamaki’s plunge into the river that pivotal day as a reason for him to feel jealous or insecure, in the face of Haruhi’s devotion to their President.
Instead, he is quietly reassured.
Not just by Tamaki’s decision to stay with them, but also by the fact that Haruhi has chosen to face how precious the Host Club (and by definition all its members) are to her.
After all, if he is to ever have a chance to change her thinking, he will first have to know her scorn for the Host Club members has disappeared.
The extremes she has gone to today give him hope.
He mentally marks it as a turning point, but doesn’t feel the need to share this with anyone.
-
Kyouya’s never wasted pretty manners on Haruhi, not even after she had earned his respect.
This is because it is not necessary; it is because she could care less about the details of how upper class citizens should behave, and because she has already seen through the act.
He also knows that should he use friendly manners with her, Haruhi would only grow suspicious of some scheme.
Back when they had first met, Kyouya had intentionally revealed his own personal mask, though his initial reason was far different than the one motivating him now.
So he will not make the effort, because he’s looking farther down the line.
If Haruhi might ever be persuaded to choose him, after all, she will need to know exactly what she is taking on.
-
For now though, she is happy to be with them - all of them. And as she drips dry, her laughter is confirmation of that.
As the sun sets beyond the bridge, Kyouya makes another silent, personal note.
For the first time he’s willing. Willing, and quite possibly eager, to let someone else see it all, ready to take a chance on being chosen, or not
She wanders to the end of the porch as the sun is setting, watching the sky turn magnificent colors as night gently extends its reign.
Only when deep violet is left on the horizon does her companion emerge from the depths of the house.
He is older, and so cannot bear the sun’s late rays like she can.
This time, though, she thinks that his lateness springs from a different reason - he has been absorbed with a search for the past few days on his computer. He drifts to her side (she still has trouble, sometimes, with finding descriptors for how he moves, how she now moves), and gazes over the fields beyond them with unfocused eyes.
“Have you succeeded?” she asks, a little bored by now with only her own company and the silences.
That had been the reason he gave, after all, for his turning her.
-
She had been on her way home, late from work, when she had stumbled upon him in a fight with two men.
To this day she did not know what their purpose had been in engaging with him; druggies usually were too out of it to be violent, and the few moves she had seen were not slurred as a drunk’s would have been.
At the same time, they had worn no uniform and looked scruffy, at best.
Of course, then he had won and there’d been two bodies in the road, rather than two men, and he had turned to her.
She couldn’t imagine what her expression must have been, but he’d snarled at her - not something the faint of heart could bear with composure, or even a toughened street kid for that matter - and yet facing her death she’d been preternaturally calm.
Something of that must have cut through his rage to reach the intelligence that existed behind the fearful face, and he had trapped her against the nearest building with something like gentleness, his entire manner suddenly calmed.
She had further shocked them both by meeting his eyes - she hadn’t forgotten the warnings she had heard all her life, but for once her curiosity had overrode her caution.
The grip on her shoulder was firm but not painful, and so she had lifted her face to the one just above hers, only inches away.
Light gray eyes had stared back at her, a hint perplexed.
Haruhi had no idea how long they had stood there, examining each other, the two dead bodies forgotten behind him, as he seemed to read much more of her than she was able to of him.
He had finally given a short laugh, which was not at all as a human would have sounded, or even as anything normal should have sounded, and pulled away from her.
“I never thought to find someone like you by chance,” he’d said in cultured accents, but his voice was otherworldly and seemed to resonate in the air with a power of its own.
She had carefully kept herself from flinching at all of these things, and then tilted her head, intrigued.
-
Haruhi never returned home that night, and by the next nightfall, she had suffered through the change. She still had not worked out why she had agreed, for it wasn’t just because he could have easily killed her for her refusal.
He had been gracious about her new thirst and patiently taught her how to hunt.
They had stuck to animals, one of his first and only teachings.
“Feeding on humans is not worth the consequences,” he had said in such final tones that she neither felt the inclination to ask how he knew, nor to question what he had been about (other than hunting) in killing the men the night they had met.
Besides which, his mandate fit exactly her own preferences.
She’d been human much longer than she had been a vampire, and her character was such that even a change of species (it was easiest to think in scientific terms, she’d found), would not alter her values.
Now she looked at him, face and mind focusing.
“I’ve found traces of them,” he answered her, and she rocked on the balls of her feet, feeling the chance for a run approaching.
It was still hard for her old habits to conquer the new; this body required exponentially more movement than the old had, and the desire to hunt could still overwhelm her if she did not schedule nights to do just that.
“Are we going to search, then?” she inquired.
White teeth flashed in the growing darkness.
“Yes. For a vampire and a magic handler,” he said, finally deigning to explain to her what his weeks long preoccupation had been about.
One brow rose, but Haruhi didn’t question him further.
When there came a light touch on the back of her hand, she followed him onto the shadow pathways, her new nature catching hold of her with exhilaration.
Well, Haruhi thought to herself, this was surely more interesting than inventory.
A/N: This was a tribute to two of my favorite vampire tales: Sunshine by Robin McKinley and Twilight by Stephanie Meyer. If you haven’t read them, go, now.