A/N: It's my first time writing for this fandom, so I'm still trying to figure out character voices and how to translate the manga/anime "feel" to a different medium. This particular fic is largely a character (interaction) study I find the dynamic between Kyoya and Haruhi fascinating and can be read either as pre-friendship or pre-romance (or both, as the two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive). It's AU, but not inherently canon noncompliant.

I freely admit that I know very little about Japanese language or culture, so if I have made any egregious mistakes here, please please feel free to correct me. Feedback of all sorts is highly appreciated. ;-)


Suouh Tamaki's ominous words still rang in her ears.

"If you want to take the part of a host that much, show me exactly how serious you are, Haruhi-kun. If you cannot master the waltz in one week… and show it off at the party… you will have to expose yourself as a girl… and will be demoted back to trivial chores!"

While her practice session with Kasugasaki Kanako had helped, she was still far from ready to publicly dance with paying customers.

Mother in heaven, what should I do?

Haruhi scanned the rapidly-emptying Host Club room in desperation. She could only get so far practicing the steps by herself with a library book, and the date of the party was rapidly approaching.

I could ask one of the other hosts for help, I suppose…

Her gaze landed on Tamaki, who was fluttering over the last of his departing customers.

No.

She'd never learn anything with Tamaki as her tutor.

"Careful, Kaoru! You nearly got your finger caught in that buttonhole!"

The Hitachiin twins were "helping" each other remove their costume shirts.

"I'm sorry, Hikaru! I was just so distracted by the beat of your heart against my fingers…"

Ditto to the twins, for that matter.

Hmmm… maybe…

"Takashi, Takashi, we can stop by the bakery on the way to the dojo, ne?"

"Hnnn."

"Yay!"

Morinozuka Takashi would have been her first choice, actually, but if Tamaki was too tall to dance the girl's part, then Mori definitely was.

And while Haninozuka Mitsukuni was the right height, she had her doubts about his ability to concentrate properly on dance steps, let alone teach them.

Which just left one person…

"If you aren't going to help clean up, I don't know what we're paying you for."

The dispassionate voice came from Ootori Kyoya, seated at his usual table in the corner, fingers flying across the keys of his Pineapple laptop.

"You aren't paying me," Haruhi grumbled beneath her breath.

"What was that?"

"Heh, nothing."

Great.

"Actually, senpai, there was something I wanted to ask you."

"Oh?"

"Would you be willing to help me practice the waltz outside of club hours?"

There was an infinitesimal pause before he resumed his typing.

"I suppose I could pencil you in. It won't come free, of course."

Of course not.

A brief perusal of his ubiquitous black notebook later, he said,

"How fortuitous. It appears as though I have an opening in my schedule directly after the club today. Do you have a preference for our locale?"

"Ano… here is fine."

"Then let us meet back here twenty minutes after we've closed the room."

Haruhi nodded.

Why do I feel like I've just sold my soul?

Pause.

"Will that be all?"

"Hai."

"Then you have no reason to be dilly-dallying."

Rich, scheming bastard.

Kyoya raised an eyebrow at her.

Sometimes I feel like he can read minds…

Laughing nervously, she hurried back to work.


Awkward.

That was the first word that came to mind as Haruhi carefully led Kyoya around the empty clubroom in a waltz.

In contrast to the twins and Tamaki, who regularly assaulted her, she had rarely had any physical contact with Kyoya. Even Huni (who liked to lead her around by the hand) and Mori (who occasionally lifted her out of the twins' grasp) had touched her more often than him, for crying out loud.

So to have their bodies so close and her hand in his was… strange.

(His hand was… warmer than she would have expected, had she ever taken the time to think about it.)

Not that he seemed at all discomfited.

Jerk.

"And… a-one-two-three, one-two-three, right-left-right, right-lef –"

"I think we can dispense with counting aloud now, don't you? We don't want you to do so during the party, after all."

"Ano… I'll try."

…right-left-right, forward-side-close, back-side-close, one-t –

Chikushō, when am I supposed to pivot again?

"Eyes upwards. It is inelegant and a sign of inexperience to watch your feet."

Reluctantly, Haruhi raised her eyes to stare at his shoulders instead.

Why did I ask him to help me again?

Oh right, he was the only option.

Please don't let me step on his feet. I don't think I could afford to replace his shoes if I scuff them. – Hmmm, I wonder if chicken is still on sale at the store…

"Ahem. You should make your partner feel as though you are the only ones in the room, not as though you're counting the minutes until the dance is over."

Right.

She fixed a smile on her face.

"Better."

Restraining a sigh, Haruhi tried to make conversation.

"So, senpai, when did you first learn to waltz?"

three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three…

"We all learned to dance when we were quite young as part of our education. It is important to be able to make a good impression at parties. – Frankly, I am surprised that, as someone who plans to practice law, you haven't been taking advantage of the unique opportunities that Ouran – and the Host Club in particular – offers."

Surprised, her eyes snapped to his.

"How did you know…?"

"For someone so bright and ambitious, you really are appallingly apathetic sometimes."

Eh?

She wasn't sure which part of that statement to tackle first.

"If Tamaki hadn't threatened you, you never would have chosen to attend the party," he continued calmly, "Which would mean that you would never have learned to waltz. I assume that this will be your first proper social dance?"

"Well, I've attended a local festival or two, mainly the neighborhood bon-odori…"

"As I said."

"…but it's true, I'm not used to fancy events."

two-three, one-two-three, one-two…

"Then you would have made a terrible impression the first time you attended a work function. One would think that a scholarship student such as yourself would be a little more eager to learn new skills and expand your social network. Though important, grades are not the deciding factor in life, and you cannot learn everything from a book or in a classroom."

"Coming from Kyoya-senpai, that is significant."

"How so?"

"Well you do spend most of the time absorbed in your notes…"

"I find it interesting that you think that."

'Interesting', he calls it. That's not a good sign.

"And – and what did you mean, I'm apathetic? Just because I don't go along with all you rich peoples' crazy schemes –"

left-right-left, forward-forward

THUD.

"I knew this would happen!" grumbled Haruhi. "'Don't look at your feet', you said, 'don't count out loud', you said. Hah! Look where that got me."

At least the music room's carpet made for a soft landing.

She cautiously opened her eyes and looked down at the boy pinned beneath her.

"Are you OK, senpai?"

He didn't respond.

"Senpai?"

"No need to yell, Haruhi, I can hear you perfectly well from here."

Haruhi's eyes widened.

Ara, this is the first time he's addressed me by my first name.

"If you would be so kind as to release me now? I have no objections to our current position as such, but we are here to practice the waltz."

His tone was mild, but Haruhi blushed furiously and immediately scrambled off of him.

"S-s-sumimasen."

"No damage done," Kyoya replied, carefully brushing his clothing off.

"Eh? Are you sure you didn't hit your head, senpai? Only normally you'd be adding to my debt right now…"

"I am not so heartless as to charge you for a common mistake that I had already anticipated. If you had broken my glasses, of course, it would be another story, but… If it makes you feel better, I can certainly add to your debt."

"No! No, this is fine. Arigatō gozaimasu."

He waved a hand in casual dismissal.

"Shall we continue? You were making progress until you lost the rhythm."

Haruhi opened her mouth to agree, but her stomach replied first by letting out a loud gurgle.

"Ah yes, I suspected this would happen. You normally have a snack when you first get home, correct?"

"…How did you know that?"

"Oh, I have my sources. And the solution should be here in just –"

There was a knock on the clubroom door.

"Excellent," he said, adjusting his glasses with satisfaction. "Get that, will you?"

And he thinks I'm lethargic?

Haruhi walked to the other end of the room and opened the door.

A tall, mustachioed man in a black suit and sunglasses stood there, holding a covered tray. He bowed to her, and she hastily returned it, smoothing her now-sweaty palms on her slacks.

"Ano, come in," she said, glancing back at Kyoya for his reaction.

"Kyoya-sama," the man said, bowing lower, and set the tray on a low table. "As requested."

"Thank you, Aijima, that will be all for now."

With another bow, the man departed.

The smells wafting from the tray set Haruhi's stomach to rumbling again.

"Well?" said Kyoya, kneeling by the table. "Do you plan to stand there for the rest of the night or are you going to join me?"

She hastened to the other side of the table.

Kyoya lifted the lid of the tray without flourish.

Once Haruhi had seen what lay upon it, she decided that any flourish would have been wholly superfluous. The food spoke for itself.

Juicy pickles, beautifully arranged melon and apple slices, wafer-thin sashimi garnished with daikon and perilla, small dishes of wasabi and gari…

She eagerly took a delicate china plate from the tray and proceeded to fill it up.

Haruhi had just swallowed her first bite of sashimi (she wasn't sure what type of fish it was, but it was moist and buttery and delicious), when a terrible thought occurred to her.

"…You're adding this to my debt, aren't you."

Kyoya's lips turned upwards ever so slightly, though not enough for Haruhi to call it a smile. He did not answer her question.

Figuring she might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, she allowed herself to enjoy the high-class foods and sighed in contentment with each bite.

"It's Hamachi, by the way," said Kyoya, popping a bite of sashimi into his mouth with his chopsticks.

Right. Mind reader.

This guy is creepy.

Though the company was uncomfortable, the food was tasty, and so it was a much-sated Haruhi who wiped her mouth with a napkin once the tray was finally empty.

"Thank you for the food, Kyoya-senpai; it was delicious. What type of melon was that, by the way? I've never had any quite like it before."

"Hmm, seeing as you are a commoner, that doesn't surprise me. Musk melons cost around ¥12,293 apiece, after all."

Haruhi's eyes bulged.

"Eh? ¥12,293? Who can afford that kind of obscene pricing–? …Right. Never mind."

Rich bastards.

Chikushō, I just ate some of that. I'm still going to be working for Kyoya-senpai when I'm eighty at this rate.

Glasses glinting, Kyoya said, "Now that you have enough food in you to concentrate again, shall we resume our lesson? My time is rather valuable."

Haruhi nodded in agreement, wiping a drop of sweat from her face.

I hate that he makes me so nervous.

"This time, I will demonstrate how to lead while you follow. Please observe how I use my arm to guide you so that you can repeat the action later."

"Hai."

If anything, Haruhi found following even harder than leading.

Kyoya sighed in exasperation after she jerked him in the wrong direction for the twelfth time in a sixth as many minutes.

"You need to relax."

"If I relax, I'll step on your feet or trip or –"

"Do you trust me?"

Haruhi's eyes narrowed in suspicion and she automatically backed away from him.

"…with what?"

"With your person."

Oh. Was that all?

"Of course. You don't do anything unless it benefits you, senpai; and since I work for you right now, allowing me to come to harm by means either active or passive would only cost you money in the long run."

Kyoya blinked and pushed his glasses upwards with a finger.

"…Quite. So trust me to lead you; trust that I will not allow you to fall while we are dancing together."

Haruhi nodded reluctantly, and stepped back into his arms.

"Think of the beat of the waltz as the pulse of your heart," he said quietly. "Forward- side-close, back-side-close."

His voice was smooth and oddly hypnotic.

As he repeated the steps aloud to her, he began to move. When he turned his body a quarter to the left, she instinctively followed him, aided by the lightest of pressures of his hand against her back.

He continued to count ("…one-two-three, one-two-three, forward-side-close…"), and she slowly felt the tension leave her muscles.

The thin wire rims of his glasses caught the light from the chandelier overhead, and reflected it back, making his grey eyes look almost silvery.

She had never really noticed his eyes before, Haruhi reflected absently. Oh, she had seen them, of course, and tried (and failed) to catalogue their expressions; but she had never actually looked at them.

It was an odd oversight on her part, now that she thought about it. Then again, perhaps it wasn't that odd; his glasses obscured them well most of the time.

The pupils of his eyes were dark and wide, half-swallowing his irises. And was that a hint of purple she saw in their shadows?

Apparently even rich people's eyes had to be fancy.

"Not bad," said Kyoya abruptly, breaking her out of her reverie. "I think I've figured out where you were going wrong before."

Haruhi cocked her head to the side inquisitively.

"You were overthinking it. Ever since you stopped worrying, oh, 7.5 minutes ago, you've managed to execute the steps without issue. You didn't even notice when I stopped giving instructions, did you?"

To her chagrin, she realized that she hadn't.

Was he actually counting the seconds? And has it really been that long?

But he was right, damn him. She hadn't tripped once since she'd stopped trying to micromanage everything.

…Huh. Maybe she'd be able to master the waltz in time for the party after all.

"Thank you, senpai," she said, smiling at him. "It was kind of you to distract me. That's what you were doing right? Distracting me to help me relax?"

"That's certainly one way of looking at it."

"I hadn't realized how much I was overthinking my steps until you mentioned it. But I guess you have personal experience with that problem too, ne?"

"What makes you say that?"

Haruhi shrugged.

"You're always trying to stay one step ahead with your plans, just like I kept trying to figure out where I was supposed to step next in the dance. But you're right; sometimes the more we try to control something, the less control we actually have over it."

When Kyoya replied, his tone was thoughtful.

"That's an intriguing notion, in its own way. How uncharacteristically philosophical of you, Haruhi."

"No offense, senpai, but you haven't known me a full month. You have no way of knowing what is and isn't characteristic of me."

Kyoya chuckled.

"And yet that timeframe is enough for you to know everything important about us 'rich bastards'? My, you are arrogant."

"I never said –"

"Not in so many words, no. But you frequently imply it. Let us take Tamaki as an example."

"I don't take your meaning."

"You think Tamaki is an idiot, ne?"

"Well… hai," said Haruhi. "He has a good heart, though."

"He is an idiot," Kyoya conceded. "But it might surprise you to know that he is ranked second in our class; and if he applied himself more, he would even provide the top student with some competition for that place."

Haruhi's eyes widened.

"You are familiar with his mannerisms, but what do you know of his childhood or his family? What do you know of his life outside school or of his responsibilities? Do you even know what his interests are besides the Host Club?"

Haruhi was forced to admit that she did not.

Shamefaced, she said, "I don't mean to be arrogant."

"Few arrogant people have the self-awareness and courage to be arrogant consciously."

"Courage?"

Such a word didn't seem to fit.

"Hai, courage. Courage to accept oneself as one truly is; courage to know and proclaim one's own value despite the world's calls for false humility."

"Ano, I don't think that's arrogance, senpai; that's just self-confidence."

"And what do those who are threatened by self-confidence call it?" said Kyoya, tone dry. "Arrogance is not a wholly bad trait, Haruhi."

Before she could stop herself, Haruhi said, "Well of course you'd say that."

"Are you calling me arrogant?"

Haruhi gulped, but soldiered on bravely.

"I'm just saying that you don't like to admit defeat."

His smile at this was peculiar.

"Neither do you. None of us do."

After a brief pause, he said, "Your lead again, Haruhi."

Haruhi nodded and switched their hands.

…forward-side-close, back-side-close, forward-side-close…

They began to dance.

Now that she stopped to think about it, she had never really thought about the Host Club members as people. Oh, she'd known that they were human beings, of course, but…

They'd just been the wealthy weirdoes who were forcing her to work for them. Somehow it had never hit her that they had lives outside of Ouran as much as she did.

Huh.

"So who is Kyoya-senpai?" she asked the boy in front of her.

He blinked, looking almost taken aback for a split-second.

"I am the same person I've always been."

"No, I mean, how do you define yourself? You've made me realize how little I actually know about you. What is your family like? What are your hobbies? You know, that sort of thing."

He stared at her, then shook his head slightly, as though to clear it. Yet when he spoke, his voice was as smooth and composed as ever.

"I am the youngest of four. I have two older brothers, Yuichi and Akito, and a sister, Fuyumi."

He paused, and Haruhi tried to look simultaneously encouraging and inconspicuous, afraid that the wrong word or move might cause him to clam up.

"My brothers are nothing special; just your typical elites. Yuichi completed medical school a few years back, and works at the same hospital as my father. As the oldest, he is expected to take over the company. Akito is currently a medical school undergraduate, and he plans on getting his Master's in Business Administration after he becomes a doctor. Although he is clever, he has very little ambition. He only wants to get his degrees to better assist Yuichi in the future. Neither of them ever fails to meet my father's expectations."

Although his voice was bland, Haruhi thought he sounded vaguely irritated.

Also, there was something about that last sentence of his… she couldn't quite put her finger on it…

"And your sister?" she asked.

"Ah yes. Fuyumi. Fuyumi is… warm-hearted, easily excitable, and has an inexplicable fondness for commoner culture. She recently married Shido Kazuhiko of Shido Pharmaceutical."

The tone he used discussing her was similar to the one he used for Tamaki: fond exasperation.

"You sound close."

"I suppose we are. Closer than I am to either of my brothers, at any rate."

Without entirely meaning to, she mused aloud, "It must be nice to have siblings…"

Haruhi prided herself on her self-sufficiency, but it got kind of lonely at home sometimes with her dad always at work.

Kyoya made a noncommittal noise in response.

Sensing that it was a sensitive subject, Haruhi said, "And your parents?"

The creases around the corners of his eyes tightened, but otherwise his face remained the same.

"There's really very little to say about them," he said calmly. "My father is CEO of the Ootori Group, a world-renowned healthcare zaibatsu. My mother is the CEO of Otsuka Imports. Naturally, they are both ruthless and brilliant individuals."

His description sounded so… clinical. More like the way one would speak of a boss than one's own parents.

"I assure you, Haruhi, whatever you are thinking could not be further from the truth. I had a very fortunate upbringing."

The mind reader attacks again!

"I don't doubt that Kyoya-senpai was surrounded by all the trappings of wealth he was born to," she said carefully.

"And yet you pity me, don't you?" he said, mouth twisting in a strange smile. "No, don't bother denying it – I can see it in your eyes." He snorted. "A commoner, pitying an Ootori."

There was something hard and sharp to his tone.

"I don't pity you, senpai. I don't know you well enough for that."

"On the contrary. You should know me too well to pity me by now."

"That too," she conceded wryly.

As she led him through a turn, she found herself examining his face closely again. She felt as though the key to understanding such a puzzling person must be there somewhere, if only she could find and decode it.

Unfortunately, the smooth mask that was his face gave little away.

She blinked in surprise upon noting the length and thickness of his eyelashes, however. Their extravagant sweep seemed somewhat out of place on so prudent a personality. It was as though they were rebelling against their owner's careful control of the rest of his face. They would look more at home on someone like Tamaki, she thought with a giggle.

"Is there something you find amusing?"

"Just…"

He let her stammer, silently waiting for a reply.

No way she was going to tell him what she'd really laughed at.

A bolt of inspiration struck from the blue.

"…I was just trying to picture how Kyoya-senpai and Tamaki-senpai ever became friends."

"It does seem strange, does it not? The two of us have nothing in common. But the answer is very simple. Because I could benefit from him. There was no other reason."

Wow, this guy is cold.

"I think Tamaki-senpai would be disappointed to hear that."

"No he wouldn't. He knew it all along, yet he still chose to befriend me. Besides, he benefits from me too. Everyone in this club benefits from our association; it's why we got together in the first place – to make use of each other."

Is this normal behavior for rich people?

"Not even commoners befriend people for purely altruistic purposes, Haruhi."

How does he do that?

"And honestly, you never researched me?"

"No. Why would I?"

He shook his head in bemusement.

"Of course, why would you bother to learn any more about the person in charge of your debt? Let me guess: you haven't done any research on where your scholarship came from either."

A sudden, chilling thought occurred to her, and her feet momentarily faltered.

"It didn't come from your family, did it, senpai?"

He was smiling when he replied.

"No, though your guess isn't far off the mark. – Frankly, I cannot decide whether to chalk your lack of curiosity up to apathy or naïveté or both."

"There you go with the apathy thing again! I don't understand."

"You expect that opportunities will fall into your lap," he said flatly. "If you showed as little initiative inside the classroom as you do out of it, you never would have attended Ouran in the first place. And perhaps that would have been for the best. Your education – and the money spent on it – will be wasted if you are not willing to put in the work necessary to achieve your goals."

She recoiled instinctively at the accusation.

"I spend all of my spare time studying, senpai. Thank you for your concern, but I work very hard in pursuit of my goals."

Perhaps if I wasn't stuck in this stupid Host Club I'd have more time to work…

Beneath the surface, her temper boiled.

"Academically, yes." His voice was mild. "But tell me, how well do you know your classmates? They will be your future clients and colleagues, after all. Indeed, they are already in position to help or hinder your efforts. Have you studied how to dress and behave amongst different groups of the elite? Do you understand the subtle social cues and taboos? Have you learnt who the major players in your chosen field are and about their connections and rivalries? Do you know just whom you are in debt to and what favors they expect in return for their generosity?"

A lazy smile flitted across his face at her bewildered expression.

"As I thought," he said.

Haruhi took a few seconds to organize her thoughts, then said,

"I don't want to live my life that way, senpai. Always calculating the merits of each action and person. Besides, I want to work for commoners, not for rich b– ano, people. I don't care what they think of me. I will work hard and do what is right. Surely that is what counts? What is on the inside."

He shook his head silently, but she thought she caught a fleeting glimpse of… something… in his eyes. But she must be imagining things; it was probably just the light flashing off his glasses.

"Kyoya-senpai is kind to worry about me."

An eyebrow arched upwards as they pivoted.

"Kind is not the word I would choose."

"It is not a word I would have associated with Kyoya-senpai either... until recently. But there are no merits in giving me advice."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."

But what could he get from…

"Aha! You do not want a member of your Club to look foolish, as it would reflect poorly upon you. That's it, isn't it, senpai?"

He merely smiled.

Sooner than she had expected, Kyoya looked at his watch and declared their time at an end.

"Arigatō, senpai," she said as they stepped out of the room together. "I think I should be good for the party now."

Kyoya inclined his head and locked the classroom door behind them.

When they exited the building, she saw a sleek black limousine idling by the school steps. A chauffeur sprung from it almost instantly and opened the passenger door with a bow.

"Do you need a ride?"

Haruhi blinked in surprise.

"Oh. No. No thank you, senpai. I always take the bus."

He nodded and climbed into the limbo, chauffeur closing the door behind him before hurrying to the driver's seat.

Huh. Guess he isn't going to say goodbye, Haruhi thought with a shrug and began to walk towards the bus stop.

"Try not to forget everything you just learned." That was Kyoya, window rolled down as the limo caught up with her. "I would hate for you to have another ¥92,230 added to your debt, after all."

"¥92,230?!"

But he had already rolled the window up.

As the limousine vanished from her sight in a cloud of dust and petrol, only one phrase came to Haruhi's mind:

Rich bastard.