Contest #6 - Relative - PG
This prompt was surprisingly hard to answer, even though I loved the topic. I think I'm getting out of my Ouran groove. 'Tis depressing.
Author: mirax_took_
Title: Relative
Contest #: 6
Rating: PG
Pairing: TamaHaru
Summary: Their son is what?
Haruhi stepped out of her car and rolled her shoulders contemplatively. She sighed in satisfaction as a rebellious bone on the right side cracked back into place. Massaging the stiff shoulder, she walked up the winding stone path that led from her humongous garage to her humongous mansion.
Ten years ago, she never would have dreamed that she would have found herself married to-
"HARUHI!" A blond bundle of nerves and melodrama flung himself from the front door to Haruhi's shoulders in a fraction of a second. "I can't find him anywhere! He's missing!"
Haruhi shifted her briefcase to her other side, careful to protect it from Tamaki's gesticulating. She had already lost three to his melodramatics.
"Who's missing?" she asked lightly, guiding the distraught man towards the doorstep.
"François."
Haruhi nearly dropped her briefcase.
"What do you mean, 'missing'?" she asked, after taking a few deep breaths.
Tamaki opened the door for her, continuing to bemoan the turn of events. "I tucked him in for his nap and, when I went back into his room to check on him, he was missing!"
Haruhi set her briefcase on a counter, knowing the maids would take care of it. She turned back towards the whimpering Tamaki, hands on her hips. "He can't have gone far, Tamaki. He's only five years old."
"I looked everywhere." Tamaki paced in a circle, wringing his hands. "I asked the maids, but they haven't seen him. I called Kyoya, but he's in a meeting, and Hikaru hasn't seen him since yesterday and Kaoru's still at that fashion show in Milan, and Takashi and Mitsukuni are still vacationing in Belgium." Tamaki was nearly treading a hole in the foyer floor.
"Are you sure you looked everywhere?" Haruhi asked patiently, placing her hand on the stairway banister.
"It's no use," Tamaki said tragically. "He's probably been kidnapped and is being held for ransom as we speak."
"You can go call the police, then." Haruhi began to climb the stairs. "They'd probably know if a ransom's been issued. Don't worry them too much yet..."
She checked François's bedroom, the bedroom she shared with Tamaki, the bathrooms, and even the empty wing of guest bedrooms. Maybe Tamaki had actually been thorough for once, because she could not find hide nor hair of their son. She was just about to join him on the quest for police assistance when she walked past the Room of Closets, as she called it, and heard... something.
Someone saying, "Try that one," if one wanted to be precise.
If the first voice had not convinced her the second, which giggled and said, "Here!" would have.
Gritting her teeth, Haruhi pushed open the door.
A strange sight met her eyes. Racks and racks of clothes spread outwards from the door like a spiderweb and, right outside the first aisle, two men were standing back guiltily from a complacent little... girl?
"Mommy," François said calmly. "I like this dress thing. It's fun to run in!"
"Haruhi!" one of the men giggled. "You're home from work early. How was your day? Isn't pink François's color?"
"What are you two doing here?" Haruhi asked suspiciously.
"Oh, you know," said the other man grandly. "Just peeking in on the grandkid."
Haruhi massaged her forehead. She could feel the headache coming.
"I like skirts better, though," François said meditatively. "They're easier to take off."
"That's my boy!" Ranka said proudly.
"Father, Yuzuru-san, please stop dressing my son like..." Lost for words, Haruhi simply gestured.
"But, Mom," François said innocently. "Granddaddy and Grandpa were telling me stories of how you dressed like a boy for years. Can't I dress in girl-clothes?"
Tamaki chose that moment to make his appearance. Haruhi had never been more grateful to see the sparkles and flower petals that always followed him into a room.
Later that evening, long after Ranka and Yuzura had left for their respective homes and François had been tucked into bed (permanently this time), Tamaki and Haruhi sat in the mansion's comfortable living room, sipping tea and occasionally trading tidbits of information found in their respective newspapers.
"Tamaki," Haruhi eventually said, staring into the fireplace as if entranced. "Why do you allow our fathers to treat François like that?"
Tamaki folded his paper, setting it in front of him carefully. "I don't think it does him any true harm. François should be allowed to express himself."
"Hm." Haruhi's newspaper lay forgotten in front of her. "Are you sure it's okay?"
Tamaki looped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm surprised you have such a problem with it."
Haruhi sighed meditatively. "It's just... Hitachiin-san dressed Hikaru and Kaoru as girls when they were little, didn't she?"
Tamaki froze, his arm stiff on Haruhi's shoulders.
"That's it," he said heavily. "No more dress up. Ever again."
The fire crackled merrily.
Author: mirax_took_
Title: Relative
Contest #: 6
Rating: PG
Pairing: TamaHaru
Summary: Their son is what?
Haruhi stepped out of her car and rolled her shoulders contemplatively. She sighed in satisfaction as a rebellious bone on the right side cracked back into place. Massaging the stiff shoulder, she walked up the winding stone path that led from her humongous garage to her humongous mansion.
Ten years ago, she never would have dreamed that she would have found herself married to-
"HARUHI!" A blond bundle of nerves and melodrama flung himself from the front door to Haruhi's shoulders in a fraction of a second. "I can't find him anywhere! He's missing!"
Haruhi shifted her briefcase to her other side, careful to protect it from Tamaki's gesticulating. She had already lost three to his melodramatics.
"Who's missing?" she asked lightly, guiding the distraught man towards the doorstep.
"François."
Haruhi nearly dropped her briefcase.
"What do you mean, 'missing'?" she asked, after taking a few deep breaths.
Tamaki opened the door for her, continuing to bemoan the turn of events. "I tucked him in for his nap and, when I went back into his room to check on him, he was missing!"
Haruhi set her briefcase on a counter, knowing the maids would take care of it. She turned back towards the whimpering Tamaki, hands on her hips. "He can't have gone far, Tamaki. He's only five years old."
"I looked everywhere." Tamaki paced in a circle, wringing his hands. "I asked the maids, but they haven't seen him. I called Kyoya, but he's in a meeting, and Hikaru hasn't seen him since yesterday and Kaoru's still at that fashion show in Milan, and Takashi and Mitsukuni are still vacationing in Belgium." Tamaki was nearly treading a hole in the foyer floor.
"Are you sure you looked everywhere?" Haruhi asked patiently, placing her hand on the stairway banister.
"It's no use," Tamaki said tragically. "He's probably been kidnapped and is being held for ransom as we speak."
"You can go call the police, then." Haruhi began to climb the stairs. "They'd probably know if a ransom's been issued. Don't worry them too much yet..."
She checked François's bedroom, the bedroom she shared with Tamaki, the bathrooms, and even the empty wing of guest bedrooms. Maybe Tamaki had actually been thorough for once, because she could not find hide nor hair of their son. She was just about to join him on the quest for police assistance when she walked past the Room of Closets, as she called it, and heard... something.
Someone saying, "Try that one," if one wanted to be precise.
If the first voice had not convinced her the second, which giggled and said, "Here!" would have.
Gritting her teeth, Haruhi pushed open the door.
A strange sight met her eyes. Racks and racks of clothes spread outwards from the door like a spiderweb and, right outside the first aisle, two men were standing back guiltily from a complacent little... girl?
"Mommy," François said calmly. "I like this dress thing. It's fun to run in!"
"Haruhi!" one of the men giggled. "You're home from work early. How was your day? Isn't pink François's color?"
"What are you two doing here?" Haruhi asked suspiciously.
"Oh, you know," said the other man grandly. "Just peeking in on the grandkid."
Haruhi massaged her forehead. She could feel the headache coming.
"I like skirts better, though," François said meditatively. "They're easier to take off."
"That's my boy!" Ranka said proudly.
"Father, Yuzuru-san, please stop dressing my son like..." Lost for words, Haruhi simply gestured.
"But, Mom," François said innocently. "Granddaddy and Grandpa were telling me stories of how you dressed like a boy for years. Can't I dress in girl-clothes?"
Tamaki chose that moment to make his appearance. Haruhi had never been more grateful to see the sparkles and flower petals that always followed him into a room.
Later that evening, long after Ranka and Yuzura had left for their respective homes and François had been tucked into bed (permanently this time), Tamaki and Haruhi sat in the mansion's comfortable living room, sipping tea and occasionally trading tidbits of information found in their respective newspapers.
"Tamaki," Haruhi eventually said, staring into the fireplace as if entranced. "Why do you allow our fathers to treat François like that?"
Tamaki folded his paper, setting it in front of him carefully. "I don't think it does him any true harm. François should be allowed to express himself."
"Hm." Haruhi's newspaper lay forgotten in front of her. "Are you sure it's okay?"
Tamaki looped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm surprised you have such a problem with it."
Haruhi sighed meditatively. "It's just... Hitachiin-san dressed Hikaru and Kaoru as girls when they were little, didn't she?"
Tamaki froze, his arm stiff on Haruhi's shoulders.
"That's it," he said heavily. "No more dress up. Ever again."
The fire crackled merrily.