A/N: Ah, thank you for joining me in Part Two. It's even longer then part one! (Thunk) But never mind, never mind. This is really the part that the reasoning for the title will hopefully become clear, though it was really inspired by a sort of running joke between my sister and I. I think Kyouya might have said 'I considered the information irrelevant' about something important, like, once; but for some reason we decided he probably does it a lot. Annnnnnnd, nobody cares. Disclaimer still stands. Onward!

Part Two

It was just a matter of waiting now, until he woke up. And, nine days and five hours after they had attempted to pull the plug, on a sunny Monday when the sun was just beginning to set; Kyouya opened his eyes.

It was a sheer testament to human nature that such a simple movement, such a simple action that people do every day of their lives, could bring such a flood of emotions; a tide of relief and happiness and the final tinges of worry. And, as his sister had gone to find something to eat, the moment was theirs.

"Kyouya…?" Tamaki tried, as his friend blinked up at him, pulling the mask off his face in disgust but still not speaking. "Are you alright?"

Kyouya considered this question for a moment, taking the time to get his bearings. He was in a hospital, an Ootori one, naturally. Gathered round were a collection of multi-coloured hazes, one of whom had spoken with Tamaki's voice. There was a dull, throbbing pain all down his right hand side and he got the impression pretty much everything was bruised or broken. That, mixed with the painkillers he'd presumably had, probably accounted those strange dreams… but already, they were fading away… hadn't he been dreaming about middle school…?

"Kyouya?"

"…I can't see."

Tamaki stared down at his friend's unseeing eyes in terror, and gripped Kyouya's hand. "Ah, no, that's terrible! But I'm right here, Kyouya, we all are, and we'll help you no matter what; and even in your blindness you must remain thankful-"

"Tono." Hikaru interrupted calmly. "I think he just means he needs his glasses."

"Thank you…" Kyouya answered, and Haruhi snatched them off the side, handing them to him. He looked at her in confusion as he slipped them on, then dropped her gaze and dragged himself into a sitting position. He silently surveyed them as Mori slipped out of the door to either fetch his family or a doctor or both.

"…What happened?"

"We're not sure." Tamaki answered. "You fell off the roof of your house. You've been asleep almost seven weeks now."

"I see." His eyes flickered around the room, taking it all in, and lingered on the twins. Nervously, they waited for him to speak. "Hikaru, Kaoru." He said, steadily. "Is that your school uniform?"

"Sorry." They replied together. "We had detention and came straight here, so we didn't have time to change."

"Ah…" Kyouya pushed his glasses back up as an age old habit, and, just for a moment, seemed a little fazed. "…Then, it seems there may have been a minor complication."

They gawped back at him- Kyouya had just woken up and already he seemed to know more than them.

"What's up?"

"Well, as far as I was aware, the twins are in their final year at middle school," Kyouya said, quite calmly. "And Tamaki and I are in our first year of high school. However, it would seem that is not the case."

They stared at him, stunned. He didn't react, sagging a little, a combination of pain and drugs taking the sharp edge from his mind. He didn't even notice their horrified expressions.

"No, Kyou-chan, that's not right…" Honey said, eventually, "You're in your second year. The last term of it."

"So it would seem." He muttered, tired again already. For the moment, he wasn't too worried about his apparent memory loss. After all, as far as his mind was concerned, there was nothing wrong. That was probably part of the problem, but at that moment, he didn't care how old he was, he hated not knowing, but he felt too tired and foul tempered to do anything more then ignore the problem. The others were more anxious, discussing it in circles. Kyouya let it all wash over him. Then, the girl in the room- although, if it wasn't for her feminine clothes he supposed she could have been taken for a boy as well- spoke.

"Ano… Kyouya-senpai…" She shifted awkwardly. "If you've forgotten all this year, doesn't that mean that you… don't remember me?"

Silence, and all eyes on her, shock and horror and sympathy. Kyouya, more interested right then in wondering where his family were, and in the dull aches all over his right side, looked at her one last time; and stirring no memories, said simply:

"No. I have no idea who you are. Or what you are doing here, for that matter."

She bit her lip suddenly, then forced a small smile. "Oh… well, that's okay, I guess. I'm just glad you woke up, Kyouya-senpai."

"Haruhi…" Tamaki said, tentatively, but just then Kyouya had enough time to see his sister burst through the door before she jumped on him and practically hugged him to death. Weakened as he was, he was totally at her mercy, and when he was finally released he noticed the girl had slipped away. He frowned, but, as doctors and friends massed around him, and someone started on about how his parents were on their way, he felt a little overwhelmed and did not consider her again. Really, in comparison to everything else at that moment, she was an irrelevance.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Fujioka Haruhi. The name was unfamiliar, but his friends would insist that it shouldn't be. She came to the Host Club, they said. She been his friend, they said. But, whatever he had once known about her was entirely in his blank spot, and he didn't find it particularly relevant. It was more important to him, in that moment, of getting him up-to-date with what had happened in school and his father's company in the time he'd been asleep. He just thought of it that way- in truth, he'd only been asleep six and a half weeks, but it may as well have been a year to him.

He was at home, at long last. After all, the doctors of Ootori hospitals were some of the best in the country, and this was their boss' son- They weren't going to let him go until the last moment, when they were absolutely sure. Even now, they had insisted he stayed at home for a while longer. He was using the time to look over the records of investment in the Ootori group over the last year; and was shocked to find the stock had been entirely brought out by someone using the alias 'KO'. He snorted at that. He'd heard the phrase 'KO' on those fighting games the twins played on occasion- Knock-out.

Really, some people.

Still, his father still controlled the business at least; and Kyouya fully intended to buy it out himself eventually. It would just make life more difficult with his shadowy investor. He'd have to quiz his father about it at the next opportunity. In the meantime, a maid knocked on his door.

"Kyouya-sama." She said, with that special smile all the staff seemed to give him nowadays, the 'I'm-so-happy-you're-alive-but-you-must-be-so-troubled-by-your-experince!' smile. "There's a visitor here for you!"

"Kyouya!" Tamaki burst into the room, grinning, with a large golden retriever bounding in behind him. "Hello! I've brought Antoinette because animals help ill people!"

Kyouya merely looked at him and wished he could run away. Unfortunately, having knocked his hip out of place, he'd still be on crutches for a while yet.

"I'll bring tea, shall I, Kyouya-sama?" The maid asked, and blushed furiously as Tamaki smiled at her in a way rarely seen outside the third music room.

"Thank you." He said warmly. "You've been invaluable."

Flustered, she bowed and attempted to back out the room, crashed into the doorframe twice and eventually giggled her way out.

Kyouya wondered what he had done to be surrounded by such idiots. Again. Then his thoughts were distracted by the dog bounding over and proceeding to slobber over and lick every inch of Kyouya it could reach. Tamaki wasn't much help, merely expressing his delight that they were 'making friends'. Thankfully, it backed off once the maid returned with the tea and pestered her instead before suddenly flopping it's head down on Tamaki's lap and sleeping.

"When did you get a dog?" Kyouya asked, watching cautiously as Tamaki stroked the creature's head.

"Oh! Well, we went to a commoner festival in a shopping centre one day and you were asleep but said you would come but wouldn't wake up so we bought you along only then you fell off and got lost and we were so worried and-"

Kyouya found he couldn't quite keep up with this tirade of Tamaki's version of events. The words seemed to be sticking in his mind. A commoner festival? In a shopping centre? He couldn't imagine what would possess him to do any such thing; and yet-

And yet.

Just a flash. A table. Food. And her, sitting opposite.

What on Earth?

"Kyouya?" Tamaki's voice had a serious edge, a note of concern. "What's the matter?! Are you alright?! Should I fetch your parents?"

"I was just thinking." Kyouya covered up quickly, though his mind was working furiously. Where had that come from?

"Oh! Did you remember something?" Tamaki said suddenly, eagerly.

"No." Kyouya answered, a little too quickly. The image had been just too bizarre to be real; or else there was no other memories to support it and explain it. Why would he have been alone with her? So it was irrelevant, and he pushed it away.

"Ah…" For once, perhaps because he was trying hard for his 'stricken' friend, Tamaki sensed the need for a change of subject. "Anyway, Kyouya, look what I've got…" He tugged on a heavy bag, that, on closer inspection, appeared to be full of text books. "I thought, if a year is missing from your memory, you might be a bit… behind." He said it as if it was a forbidden word, as if he was frightened at what Kyouya would do to anyone who would dare suggest he was 'behind'. However, Kyouya was rather taken aback at this apparent forethought of Tamaki's, and, more concerning, something that Kyouya himself hadn't considered.

A year's worth of forgotten lessons was no laughing matter.

He swallowed, and grabbed one of the books, flicking through. Sure enough, he didn't remember learning any of this stuff…

"Oh, that's something we did right at the start of the year. It's a poem… It's about two lovers, you see, and the girl is telling the man about her jacket- see, this line here- that got crumpled and-"

"And she had an argument with her parents, at which point the lover attempts to become both the jacket and the father figure." Kyouya finished. He had no idea where the information had come from, particularly when it was so far removed from his tastes, and he did not remember learning it, but it was all there.

With everything else, it was the same story; everything he'd learnt was still lodged firmly in his brain without him having any recollection of how it had got there. Tamaki took this surprise very happily, burbling that it was a sure sign that Kyouya's mind would soon be fully restored. Kyouya, meanwhile, just found it wonderfully convenient and a great relief.

"Kyouya…" Tamaki said slowly, unusually serious today. "Have you… thought anything more about Haruhi?"

"Who?" He said, vaguely, looking back at the poem. Think, two things on their own and both at once, the first that exercise in trust… What trollop. After a moment or two he became aware that Tamaki's voice had not yet pervaded the silence. He looked up to see his friend's face, apparently struggling to restrain himself from an emotional outburst at his indifferent tone.

"Haruhi, Kyouya. You know, we told you, she's-"

"In the host club, I know." Kyouya shrugged. "Incidentally, my memory of that time is perfect apart from, it seems, the time when I actually agreed to being in this club…"

"Ahah…" Tamaki floundered. "Well, you remember up until the last month or so of our first High School year, right? So you remember how well the club does!"

"Quite." Kyouya dismissed. He wasn't ready to start tackling the club just yet; he had no idea what sort of state it would be in when he returned… they could be near bankrupt for all he knew…

"We're thinking of opening again soon." Tamaki said eagerly. "I mean, we closed so we could come and see you, and we didn't think we'd start again if you didn't come back to us, but now that you have I think the ladies would be anxious to see us and concerned about you and would like to comfort us in our worried visages…"

He didn't seem very worried.

"…Fine." Kyouya answered. Just being around Tamaki and his dog- who seemed to be eying his crutch, lying on the floor, rather hopefully- was exhausting and he really did not have the energy to even consider arguing.

"Great! We thought we could get everything back in order, you know, so when you come back we can maybe have a party or something, you know how popular they are-"

Indeed he did. The Host Club had held several parties of their own, of course, but they were always in great demand at those held by the school-

Fireworks above the school. Music. And a hand in his…

Kyouya coughed to cover up his confusion. He had a horrible, twisting feeling in his gut that he knew exactly who that hand belonged too…

"Fine." He spluttered again.

"Ah, you seem tired…" Tamaki seemed disappointed as he mis-interpreted Kyouya's expression. "I guess I'd better go, but don't worry, Kyouya! I shall return soon! And maybe I'll bring the others next time, they're all quite anxious to see you again…!"

"Fine." Kyouya said, dully. It was true- he hadn't seen any of the other hosts since he had come out of hospital. He thought this was probably so as not to 'crowd' him as he 'recovered', but couldn't ever decide who, apart from him, would have had the good sense to suggest such a thing. Maybe that Haruhi they kept talking about?

"Well, don't bother to see me out, you mustn't strain yourself!" Tamaki was burbling. "I'll tell the others you said hello-" (here Kyouya thought vaguely that he had said no such thing but didn't care to interrupt) "and that you're looking forward to coming back! They'll be pleased to hear you can still remember everything you learnt, we were worried about that… it was Haruhi that told me to bring the books over… Anyway, bye Kyouya! See you soon! Come, Antoinette!"

He bounced out of the room.

Kyouya rubbed his forehead in the sudden blessed silence. Truth be told, Tamaki wasn't acting quite himself, possibly this was him attempting to be subdued. However, he was still hideously hyperactive and so expectant, like he would have magically remembered everything overnight. He felt a slight stab of annoyance as he noted, again, how many times that Haruhi girl had come up in conversation. He'd said time and again he didn't remember her, and why should he force himself to get to know her again now? There must have been some benefit in it last time, but he couldn't see any now, not when she was just a scholarship student… and their being club members, surely, would provide enough leverage if she became important enough to do a deal with in later life… it frustrated him that they all seemed to think she was so very important, that it was so very integral that he remembered her…

And it frustrated him even more that he couldn't. Because he didn't know why it was important he did. And he didn't know why, that time, he had been so sure the hand in his had belonged to her.

Kyouya forced it away again. Such a miniscule memory, for certain, had to be entirely irrelevant.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Across the classroom, the girls were smiling knowingly at one another, and the boys in amusement, as somewhere in the middle of it all Tamaki remained unaware how loud his absent-minded humming was. No-one quite had the heart to tell him to be quiet, because, for a long time, he hadn't been himself.

They'd all known why, of course. It had been strange with Ootori around, to be certain, the raven-haired class president had always seemed as much a permanent fixture as the desks and chairs, unmoving and always there waiting. The class had all been tense, waiting for news, but none were hit harder then Tamaki. For some weeks, he had seemed to have a grey, distracted air around him that had only blackened as the weeks wore on. Then, one Tuesday morning, he had dashed in all excited and finally announced to the class that the previous evening Kyouya had woken up at long last. That had signalled the return of the bumbling, bouncing, energetic idiot they all knew and loved; and that was probably the best sign he could have given them.

Tamaki, for his part, hadn't told them everything just yet. He had been expecting to have to go into school with a very different announcement the week after they'd attempted to pull the plug. Before the attempt, he had considered telling the class what was going to happen, but he had the feeling that the family wouldn't want to be overwhelmed with well-wishers, and, more likely, those that felt they 'ought to' and those that were just curious. Now it was probably a good job he hadn't, as Kyouya now looked like he was going to make a full recovery. Apart from the memory thing. But Tamaki was confident that would come with time.

Tamaki's humming faltered a little bit. He hoped Kyouya's memory would come back soon… he couldn't quite understand why his friend changed the subject every time Haruhi was mentioned. It was almost like he didn't want to remember her, and this caused him concern as to what would happen when the two were in close proximity at the Host Club again… Still, Kyouya hadn't even started back at school yet, so there was still time.

And, seemingly purely to prove that thought wrong, the door slid violently open. Kyouya looked quite striking, appearing dramatically in the doorframe after so many weeks, supported by the crutch gripped on his right arm. The class seemed shocked into silence, but as he began to limp across the room- mentally cursing his still-mending hip- it descended into uproar.

"Ootori! Yo!"

"Welcome back, Kyouya-kun!"

"We knew you'd be back!"

"Oh my, is it painful, Ootori-kun?"

"Yeah, welcome back!"

"Can I have a go with your crutch?"

Kyouya ignored them and simply slumped with into his chair, his normally dignity compromised slightly by obvious relief. Unexpectedly, Tamaki was not exactly overjoyed to see him.

"You're not supposed to come back for at least another two weeks!" He scolded.

"I might as well be sitting here catching up on the work I missed as sitting at home missing more." Kyouya answered, simply.

"But you shouldn't be exerting yourself, Kyouya!"

"I'm not."

"Well, well, I'm not letting you come back to the club yet! I will not allow it!"

Kyouya simply shrugged. "Okay. In two weeks, then." He turned his attention to the other people that were crowding excitedly around their recently returned classmate. Kyouya didn't recall being so popular, but thankfully, things simmered down when their form teacher entered, welcoming him back before proceeding with the other business of the morning.

Truth be told, Kyouya had already caught up with the seven weeks or so of work he had missed, it was a matter of course to him. So he had needed something new to distract his thoughts from the circles they so frequently got stuck in, trying to remember one Fujioka Haruhi.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

He hadn't expected to see her just yet. Oh, Tamaki had talked of gathering the club members together during the lunch hour, but he had been planning on making some sort of continuous excuse that would serve him until the end of his two-week-Host-Club-ban. By then, he reasoned, he would have figured it all out. Simply, he had never liked not knowing things, and she served as an obvious and sore reminder of everything he had forgotten. Still, beyond that, he doubted she had made much of a difference, so it was fairly irrelevant. However, as he sat in one of the Libraries amusing himself with a document his father had given him describing state-of-the-art new X-ray equipment, her voice cut into his peace.

"Kyouya-senpai?"

He jolted, startled. How unlike him. The sudden movement sent a stab of pain through his right side and he cursed. She seemed almost amused, however.

"Tamaki-senpai said yesterday you wouldn't be back for two weeks. That's probably why."

Kyouya glared at her, but to his surprise, it didn't have an effect.

Had she just got used to it over the past year…?

"I'll thank you not to speak to me like that." He answered, shortly. She frowned, and then rubbed her forehead in a manner not entirely unlike his own.

"Oh, ah… sorry. I forgot. That you don't… never mind. Good to see you, anyway."

There was an awkward silence as both reflected on the familiarity they had apparently lost.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, irritably. The reading rooms were usually deserted during lesson time.

"I'm three weeks ahead of the rest of my class, so I'm here to research the next topic." Haruhi answered, indicating the book held loosely in her hand. "What about you?"

Kyouya raised one eyebrow just the tiniest bit. "For some reason, no-one seemed to think it was a good idea for me to do PE with a busted hip." He nodded towards a nearby window through which the playing fields and an apparently vicious game of football could be seen. Kyouya snorted a little. "Whatever team Tamaki's on will win, of course. I was really the only one who was any match for him, before…"

Haruhi filed the surprise at Kyouya taking PE aside- perhaps he just wanted to stay active- and changed instead to the subject at hand. "Do you remember anymore of what happened? I mean, your accident. All anyone seems to know is that you fell off the roof, but that doesn't seem like you…"

"I wasn't pushed." Kyouya answered, flatly. Truth be told, he had an age old habit of walking around on the roof when he needed to think, and if he was deep in thought it wouldn't have been hard for him to miss his footing, but whatever he had been thinking so completely about had sadly been lost on the way down. However, he saw no reason to divulge this somewhat irrelevant information to her.

Another awkward silence resulted.

"I'd better get back to class." She said, but hesitated just a moment longer. He could clearly read on her face the moment she made her decision, and she said: "Kyouya-senpai, I don't suppose you've remembered-?"

"You?" He completed, irritably. "No, I haven't."

"I didn't think so." She said, a small sigh escaping. "Oh, well… Bye then, Kyouya-senpai."

Kyouya stared after her, wondering if he had perhaps been a little cruel. True, he had only had those miniscule flashes, no more then an irrelevance in the grand scale of things, but perhaps that would have been good for her to hear, given some hope…

He suddenly scowled. Just when had he started to care if he had been cruel?

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

That night, thunder struck, and Kyouya was kept awake by it.

He was not amused. One of the main reasons he was capable of sleeping so late in the mornings was because he could be kept awake by the slightest of sounds, least of all a great rumbling storm. Once he was out, though, he was out, and nothing would wake him.

So why couldn't it have waited another few minutes?

No, Kyouya was not amused. At all.

He could have got up and done something productive, and he was sorely tempted too. Yet, he wanted to sleep, and he was stubborn enough so that he wouldn't let a silly thing like a storm stop him. So he lay awake in bed, listening to the sounds of the wind and the rain at the window, and the light flashing through his eyelids, and tried to tune it out.

He had a sudden image, his hand pressed to the window pane, staring out a storm lashed sky as rain splattered on the glass. Tamaki was shouting in the background, but he wasn't really listening, because he knew, out there, somewhere, she was alone.

"Dreaming again, Kyouya-senpai?"

Kyouya turned. A girl he didn't know was there, in silhouette, illuminated on occasion by the lightning.

"Who are you?"

"Aww, don't you remember? That seems to be the problem, doesn't it?"

"…What are you talking about? I don't know who you are!"

"I," She said, quite happily, "Am nothing more then your imagination. The lovely side-effects of those painkillers you have to take all the time… Nothing more then a twisted dream… and I am in control of your mind."

"No, you don't."

"I do." She smiled, and quite suddenly, accompanied by another crash of thunder, he fell to his knees, his injured right hand side hurting more then it had done in some time. "You see? And I'm going to be here for a while, because you'll never be healed unless you remember."

"Remember what?!"

An unusual smile. Cold and distant, to match the weather outside, which the girl now turned to face, and, with a final smirk, faded away.

Tamaki was still shouting.

"Haruhi is afraid of thunder!"

Kyouya woke up, his hip hurting quite as much as it had before, and, accompanied by the continuing storm outside had probably been what had awoken him. He rubbed his face, wondering why, if his mind wasn't too worried about what it had forgotten during the day why it felt forced to pester him at night. Just as before, the memory, or the dream, whichever it was, was beginning to slip away from him. There was a storm, he was sure of that, and someone telling him to remember… that Haruhi was afraid of thunder.

What a useless piece of information that was. A total irrelevance.

What Kyouya was more concerned with, however, was why he had known that to begin with. Why he presumably once cared. In between the flashes of light and dark that night, Kyouya's idle mind was forced to consider what the relationship between himself and Fujioka Haruhi had once been.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Lunch-time. Kyouya had managed to get out of it the previous day, but it seemed there would be no escaping it, no getting away from an impromptu reunion with the older and younger members of the Host Club.

Including her.

And his stomach churned when she approached, undoubtedly. Kyouya was ashamed, he had thought himself above such things, but no, for some reason she made him nervous, fearful, even. Which was quite bizarre, because he didn't understand why he should be afraid to face her- what was he not wanting to remember?

Or, maybe it was another matter entirely. Maybe this turning in his stomach… the way she made it twist… was remnants of another, considerably more dangerous feeling…?

Or, perhaps it was nothing to do with her at all, but the painkillers that were screwing up his stomach as well as his dreams? Nausea was a common side-effect, and so was the paranoia that had messed up his first assumptions. Yes, his unsettled stomach was no more then the usual irrelevance.

"Good afternoon, Kyouya-senpai." She said, and then quietly ate her bento without saying much else. This was immensely preferable to the exuberant greetings from the twins and Honey, which in turn excited Tamaki; but just as Kyouya felt he was going to drown in joviality the twins turned it down to complaining about his absence the previous lunchtime instead.

"Tono was really put-out that you wouldn't come." Hikaru concluded with a frown.

"I don't think I've seen you that moody since you and Haruhi argued at the beach." Kaoru teased Tamaki lightly.

Kyouya wasn't expecting his memory to be jogged so easily. In fact, he was satisfied that the conversation was finally turning away from him and their elaborate theories as to why he fell from the roof. And yet, just like the other times, the memory came unexpected and unwelcome.

A darkened room. His bare face, and neck, and chest and skin, looking down on wrinkled sheets, hands curling in them, and the tiny bit of moonlight that crept through the window over her face below him, looking into his eyes without a trace of doubt of fear… eyes that held absolute certainty as he hung above her.

Kyouya swallowed what he was eating very slowly. He risked a glance at Haruhi.

That twisting in his stomach was back.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

He didn't believe it, of course.

Kyouya paced- with no small amount of difficulty- across the courtyard.

No, his first thoughts were no more then baseless assumptions. There was simply no grounding to them, no way they could be correct. He didn't believe it.

He turned and went the other way. Yet, the way things looked…

No. It was absurd. Impossible. There was another, more logical explanation, he was sure, but he just couldn't remember it at the moment. There had to be, because otherwise…

Another reverse journey. Otherwise, he'd…

No. Unthinkable. Baseless, unbelievable, absurd, impossible, illogical. The memory made no sense, no sense at all. He was worrying over nothing. There was a far more natural explanation.

He crossed the small square, surrounded by high walls on all sides, once more to the accompanying sound of the fountain, water falling like rain. He sat down on the slightly damp stone rim with as much dignity as he could, because otherwise he would have simply fallen into it. He was technically supposed to be walking as little as possible, and his damaged hip was protesting against his breaking of this rule. But he could hardly keep still, he was restless.

The natural and logical explanation had yet to present itself. Resultantly, Kyouya was left with the other, stupid explanation that he and Fujioka had…

He stood to begin pacing again. Was it possible, just possible, that suddenly, at the age of seventeen, he had suffered a sudden influx of hormones? He had assumed himself long-since past that sort of thing, but if that wasn't to blame, then he must have actually had proper and deep feelings for-

No. This was ridiculous. It was worthless even entertaining the notion. As if movement would provoke him memory into providing a more reasonable explanation, he took a limping step forward. He made no further progress, however, because it was at that moment that Tamaki burst into the peace, frowning slightly. This courtyard was unpopular. The surroundings meant it was usually quite dark, and there was nowhere to really sit. There wasn't even a terrible amount of room, and the only way to get through it was from the end of one of the corridors right at the back of the blocks. In fact, people only really came here if they wanted assured privacy. And here Kyouya was, though admittedly he would have preferred the school roof had climbing the stairs not currently been such a daunting task.

Besides, his injuries that now prevented him from climbing onto the roof had been caused by that very thing to begin with.

At any rate, Tamaki was now beaming at him, and coming ever closer.

"Ah, Kyouya, there you are! I wondered where you'd got to, I've been looking everywhere!" Kyouya gritted his teeth. He could still detect a note of concern in his friend's voice, and knew he had been a pretty much constant worry for Tamaki since he woke up; and probably before, but also that Tamaki knew how much Kyouya would hate to be worried about, and this carefully care-free tone was the result. Tamaki ran down to his side. "We should have tied you to the chair- why did you skip out on us?"

But, his voice didn't hold the normal insulted and whining tone it should have done, had everything been fine, and on top of everything else today, Kyouya couldn't take it.

"Will you stop that?" He snapped, and for a moment everything was quite normal.

"Ah, Kyouya, don't get mad! We were just worried after you left so suddenly! At first we thought you were simply answering nature's call, but you'd been such a time, and we thought perhaps you were ill, but then you weren't there, and we've been looking everywhere, we quite thought you'd been abducted in your weakened state, we've been so worried-"

"I don't need you to worry about me, Tamaki." He answered, coldly. "Nor your poorly-disguised sympathy. So just… stop."

"Act like nothing's happened?" Tamaki had caught on, but sounded outraged. "Kyouya, how can we while our hearts are still warm? You haven't been yourself, and we all just want you to recover as quickly as possible- I swear, I will not rest until you have all your precious memories back!"

Kyouya opened his mouth to respond. Half of his mind wanted to say that was mostly the problem, half of him wanted to calmly inquire as to what these precious memories may be, and what, exactly, was the precise nature of his relationship with Haruhi. Fortunately, good sense caught up with him first- and, anyway, Tamaki was still going strong.

"…I was thinking, perhaps if we went back to all those places that we visited then maybe it would jog your memory, back to the beach-"

Their holiday home by the sea, and her, standing in the doorway to the dining room in a dress, finally looking feminine. The same dress she'd been wearing in… Kyouya flinched.

"Tamaki…"

"And to the commoner supermarket, and Italy, 'cause we went on a class trip there, remember? Well, of course not, I'm sorry, that was insensitive but never fear! I'll make it up to you, Kyouya, I promise, nothing will stop me-"

"Tamaki. Quiet."

"-From reuniting you with the whole of this year, with all the ups and downs, with memories of all our heart-felt conversations and moments that strengthened our friendship-"

"Tamaki!" Kyouya wasn't certain, but he defiantly hoped the 'heart-felt' talks were all in Tamaki's head, which was even now spewing forth more idiocies.

"-and of your friendships with the others, with Hikaru, and Kaoru, and Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai and the designators, and Haruhi, of course! To have forgotten her… of all people, to have forgotten her is nothing short of tragic and to have poor Haruhi left without-"

Tamaki had been about to say 'a mother', which may have allied Kyouya's growing fears, but he didn't get to finish. Seeing that verbal protests were not going to work, Tamaki received a swift smack in the face with the rear end of his supposed friend's crutch. It was surprisingly painful, and Tamaki stumbled back, overbalancing. Even so, now sitting on the gravel, he grinned.

"Not a word." Kyouya growled at him, pulling himself with a little more difficulty into a sitting position. He had quite forgotten that he relied on that crutch to keep his balance, and, effective a weapon as it was, the swing had also caused him to end up sprawled in a most undignified way over the floor.

"It's only justice after your unwarranted attack." Tamaki informed him good naturedly as he stood, apparently too entertained by Kyouya's fall to be concerned with his own aching nose.

"Hmmph." Kyouya gave no further response, instead using a nearby wall for support in the attempt of getting to his own feet. His hip was protesting in the strongest of terms. Even walking around school was supposed to be too much at this point, and adding in the extra pacing and the somewhat harsh fall onto his side… He winced slightly, something he had never believed he would do. It was so quiet it was practically silent, but it seemed Tamaki still heard, because without giving Kyouya a chance to argue he came and hauled the other up.

"Kyouya?"

"Yes?"

"Did you remember something? When we were eating?"

Kyouya was slightly taken aback by this sudden show of perceptiveness. Tamaki had a habit of springing these moments on Kyouya when he least expected them.

"What?" He snapped again, irritably.

"You're defensive, that means yes." Tamaki grinned, and just then the bell signalling the end of the lunch hour called them back to class, saving him from answering.

Kyouya was still sorely tempted to say: "Yes, actually, I remembered pining Haruhi down on a bed", just to see what reaction it got, but again, good sense prevented him. But what a pity it was. Because perhaps then Tamaki would have told Kyouya the full story, that Haruhi had once told him.

Of course, that particular information was currently an irrelevance, at least to Tamaki.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Kyouya had a plan, of course.

Yes, a plan. Of sorts.

Actually, it wasn't much of a plan, but Kyouya decided to ignore that fact.

He couldn't do anything, he thought, until he had more information, and really knew exactly what had happened between him and Haruhi since he had met her.

Unless he had met her before…?

No, of course he hadn't. Anyway, he had decided a simple course of action, and that was to get to know Haruhi better in the hope it would all become clear. He couldn't just ignore what he had remembered, of course, because Kyouya could never be satisfied with something unexplained. It was sorely tempting to just ask her, but he couldn't help thinking that saying 'Haruhi, did we sleep together?' might get him slapped if the answer was akin to 'No, of course not, you pervert!'- an answer he was still hoping desperately for. No, it was the rational explanation.

At any rate, Kyouya thought, it quickly became clear that Haruhi was not really the slapping sort. Unfortunately, that observation was made from afar. His return to the Host Club was busy to the point of being unbearable at times, he'd never had quite so many designators at once. He always had far fewer then the others, only seeing one or two in a session so he could do all the admin, and yet that was no longer possible; his daily demand had, for the first time, outstripped Tamaki's; a privilege Kyouya could have lived without. So, really, the only opportunity for talking to Haruhi he had was when she brought a tray of drinks over to the table for him, his movement encumbered slightly.

He would be on the crutch for a long while yet. Six or seven weeks. Perhaps more.

Kyouya was not impressed.

Many of the girls were. For some reason, an injured Kyouya seemed to be more popular then a healthy one. Perhaps he could arrange to break Tamaki's legs…

"Here you are, Kyouya-senpai." Haruhi said, suddenly at his shoulder, bringing drinks to his table in the club once again. Kyouya saw the girls smiling up at her, and thanking her, but he did not quite dare look up himself. For some reason, he found her face most distracting, presumably because his mind was furiously trying to place it. That was fine when he was not supposed to be serving customers, but not during. Even so, things were hardly going according to plan when he didn't even get chance to speak to her…

Kyouya looked again at the softened expressions on his designator's faces, and realised dully that, like many others, he didn't remember then choosing him before, which normally meant they had started coming within the last year. These two, however…

"I'm sorry we didn't come to you this week, Haruhi-kun." One said, answering the question that was beginning to form in Kyouya's mind. "We were just really worried about Kyouya-senpai…"

"That's fine." Kyouya watched the girl's expression change and somehow knew exactly what version of her gentle smile was on Haruhi's face. She, out of all of them, acted the most like herself for the designators; although it seemed she was a little kinder to the girls. That had been about the sum of the information he'd got so far, so although he still didn't look, he listened as she continued speaking. "You don't need to apologise- I think it's great that you care."

The girls blushed and grinned. Kyouya was beginning to realise properly why he had allowed Haruhi's masquerade to go on so long. She was, worryingly, rather a natural.

"You're not hosting right now, are you, Haruhi?" He asked, speaking at last. That seemed to be the way everyone else in the club addressed her, so he went with it.

"As most of our designators are coming to you now, no, I'm not."

"Then why not join us?"

Haruhi simply nodded, and lowered herself into a seat- and into Kyouya's line of vision. He allowed himself to study her face again, hoping he'd remember something more solid, but she didn't seem to mind, simply staring back, idly tapping her lips. Was that a habit of hers, or was she remembering something he could not…?

The designators had noticed the look too, and now the second girl spoke. The story of Kyouya's memory loss had been well circulated and, again, seemed to be some sort of morbid selling point. So, she spoke with eagerness.

"Have you remembered anything of Haruhi-kun yet, Kyouya-senpai?" She asked.

Kyouya did not answer.

"I don't mind." Haruhi put in quickly, with a smile that seemed rather forced. "It's fun to be getting to know each other all over again." For her part, she believed Kyouya was behaving rather oddly towards her. Which, she supposed, was only to be expected- but somehow she had imagined Kyouya was almost invincible, fazed by nothing. At first, he'd seemed determined to ignore her, but recently… To her surprise, Kyouya spoke.

"Actually, I have remembered something… just now…" He had a strange half-smile on his face. Something really had just come to mind, but he may as well add drama to the moment. Besides, he was just so sick of all of this. He had a year missing from his memory, which wasn't such a long time really, and yet he was totally lost. "I half-recollect coming to visit your home, I believe…"

Haruhi looked a little surprised. "Yes, you did."

"Hmm. I seem to remember the floor being very uncomfortable."

Haruhi looked less impressed. "Really."

Kyouya didn't really notice, though. The vague memory of Haruhi's living room was opening out a little, and a person suddenly flitted into his mind, not so much a face or a name, but…

"Yes. I believe I met your mother in person."

He didn't realise that the others were exchanging troubled looks.

"My mother…" Haruhi repeated faintly, not sure what to say.

"Yes. Your mother. Unless your father enjoys wearing dresses, in which case I would be a bit concerned."

"Oh, would you?" Haruhi spat back, before adding hastily: "Of course he doesn't!"

She didn't think the designators would appreciate her father's occupation.

"Well, then. Unless you're suggesting your mother looks like a man-"

Kyouya's sentence was interrupted by the realisation that Haruhi perhaps was a slapping person after all. Or, in this case, as she had to keep up the masculine pretence, a punch. Stunned, having not come across physical violence before- as far as he knew- his hand flew to his now aching cheek, and stared at Haruhi, on her feet and breathing heavily.

That reminded him of something. Girls screaming. Men, on top of a rock, and Haruhi running up towards them, and the sounds of struggle, and him, running across the sand in time to see her falling from the rock into the ocean…

But this was not the time for that.

"You…" She began, and then shook her head, uselessly. "You know what? I'm sorry, Kyouya-senpai. I guess you didn't know. But you should research better." She turned to Tamaki. "I'm going to take off early today, Tamaki-senpai."

"Haruhi…"

She ignored him, going anyway, but Tamaki chased after her. Silence reigned in the remnants of the room. Eventually, it was punctuated by a slow, unimpressed clapping from the twins as they wandered over to where Kyouya was.

"Way to go." Hikaru said, dully.

"You managed to touch on one of only two things that make Haruhi properly angry." Kaoru added, without sympathy.

"There was no reason for her to get enraged over some simple sarcasm." Kyouya defended.

"Really?" The twins answered dryly, and Kyouya began to get quite annoyed that no-one felt the need to fill him in.

"Alright! What am I missing?" He snapped.

"Kyouya-senpai…" One of the designators said, hesitantly. "Haruhi-kun's mother is dead. She died a long time ago. So you can't have met her, and you really shouldn't…" She trailed off.

Kyouya was rather taken aback. He really did have to do better preliminary research. But she was only a commoner, he hadn't think he'd be able to find anything of any value…

"Plus," Hikaru was muttering in his ear, "Her father really does wear dresses for his work. You used to get on pretty well with him; he was worried sick about you, so you really shouldn't be so disrespectful."

"Anyway," Kaoru added, equally quietly "The fact he's a cross-dresser isn't really something we advertise so be careful what you say!"

Kyouya was, in short, stunned; something that was happening worryingly often since he woke up.

And, on that note- with the President gone and the Vice-President shocked into inactivity- the twins, Honey, and Mori decided the club better close early.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

By the next day at club, Haruhi was acting as though nothing had happened, and Kyouya followed her lead. He wasn't sure if Tamaki had caught up with her the day before, or even if that would have made a difference. In fact, he couldn't tell what Haruhi was thinking at all.

That infuriated him.

Even more infuriatingly, he couldn't tell what he had been thinking, or was thinking now. His mind was a mess. He had never imagined a world in which he would be on good terms with a cross-dresser. That in itself was worrying. Even more worryingly- and the fact that it worried him more then the cross-dressing thing was a true testament to his confusion- this particular cross-dresser was Haruhi's father. Who he was apparently on good terms with. Her father.

Why was he on good terms with her father?!

Of course, his ever-logical brain pointed out, it seemed he had been on even better terms with Haruhi herself.

It was hastily told to shut up.

Still, Kyouya was tired of all this. It was bad enough that he had forgotten a year, that his hip was painful, that his walking was so slow and complicated, without his thoughts swarming around as well.

"Kyouya-senpai?"

He turned to see a girl smiling kindly at him, and realised he didn't have a clue what she had been saying to him. It must have been clear on his face, because she giggled happily.

"You were ever so distant, Kyouya-senpai." She said, and he realised he had been. How unlike him, to be so unfocused… but he had a lot on his mind, to say the least. "Were you dreaming, Kyouya-senpai?"

Dreaming? Something in his brain was stirring…

"You're dreaming, Kyouya. And you're not going to wake up."

A memory. Of something. A memory of a dream, he thought, not knowing how he knew. But his ponderings went no further, as his side suddenly upped it's pain level another few notches. Ignoring everything around him, he began digging in his bag for the tablets he was forced to carry with him.

Yet, it didn't seem to matter so much; nor did the pain. His mind was reeling. That voice… he knew it. It had been in his dreams, almost every night now. Recurring dreams were hardly uncommon side-effects to pain, but why those words, that he had forgotten as soon as he had awoken, had come back to him, he didn't know. If only his real memories would come back with such ease. The voice in his dreams was beginning to come back to him. You're not going anywhere, not unless you remember; you're limited edition; don't you remember, Kyouya, have you still not worked it out; Did he have to remember who that girl in the market was; do you remember, Kyouya; dreaming again, Kyouya-senpai; nothing more then a twisted dream… and I am in control of your mind…

"Kyouya!" Tamaki shouted, obviously not for the first time. Kyouya blinked, he hadn't heard Tamaki approach at all. His side was still hurting. He calmly swallowed the pills, and said, in an indifferent tone:

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you answer?"

"I was thinking." Kyouya answered, simply.

"But you were totally oblivious! What were you thinking so deeply about?!"

Kyouya just smiled bleakly, wondering what Tamaki would do if he knew what a mess his head was currently in.

"Kyouya?"

"Oh, I chose not to answer that time." Kyouya shrugged.

Tamaki was looking worriedly at him. "Kyouya, I can't stand this!" He said, suddenly. "You just haven't been yourself since you woke up! You absolutely refuse to talk to us, you don't seem to be making any effort to remember anything, you don't say anything, it's like nothing is important any more!"

Kyouya laughed harshly. "Well, I'm sorry. Perhaps I've changed in the last year, but I don't remember being any other way. If you can't handle that…"

"Kyouya, we just want to help…"

He snorted. "Believe me, you can't help me."

"Kyouya-senpai!" Haruhi's sharp voice cut in. "Stop this! Just stop it! Do you not realise… do you just not care… that this is hard on us to?! We were convinced you were going to die, we were terrified, and then you woke up- but suddenly all the friendships you so slowly and unwillingly built have been put back a year. Suddenly you hardly know us! You think that's easy for people unlucky enough to care about you? Tamaki is your best friend, you've known him a long time, and you suddenly treat him coldly even though you must remember being close before, and you've barely said a word to the twins and Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai even though the club used to do all sorts together. You think that isn't just as tough, maybe harder then what you're going through? And as for me, well, I'm back to square one- I may just as well not exist around you nowadays; the relationship we had is gone… it's hard for all of us. So stop being so selfish."

As was becoming habit, Kyouya said nothing. He was surprised, taken aback, at the genuine bitterness and pain in her voice. He hadn't stopped to think before, really, what this was doing to everyone else. Important things may have happened last year… particularly for her. And for him, too.

For them.

The evidence was compelling, of course. He had been friendly with her father, and all those memories he'd had…Eating with her. Dancing with her. Her fear of storms. That beautiful dress. Visiting her home. Her being thrown into the sea, and… the other thing he had remembered. Then there was the more physical feelings, the complaints in his chest and stomach, shifts of guilt and nerves and something else whenever he saw her. He wondered if he had enjoyed his relationship with her. And he was suddenly hit by the fact that, if they had been so close- worryingly literally- then the fact he didn't remember her, the fact that he barely even knew her name…

It must be killing her.

Everyday, without even knowing it, he was hurting her. Making her angry the way he was simply made matters worse.

And one day, somewhere along the line, without even knowing it… he'd come to care.

He cared that he was hurting her. This was a bizarre concept to him, but he was prepared to accept it. He accepted that somewhere in the year that was lost to him, something in him had changed. And with change came a certain amount of responsibility.

Kyouya had a strange type of old Japanese honour in him. He did not shirk responsibility.

He looked directly at Haruhi, looked her eye to eye, and though the feelings in his stomach reasserted themselves as usual, his uncertainties faded away.

"Haruhi." He said, calmly. "Can I talk to you?"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Haruhi was surprised by the request, but she didn't hesitate to go with him from the room, slowly of course, but as fast as he could probably manage. There was just something in his voice, some certainty in his tone, that invited no arguments. A tone that had not been heard since before his accident. Kyouya had not seemed certain of much, nowadays. So she followed him out of the Host Club and through the grounds, to a tiny enclosed courtyard with a fountain that she had not visited before. She sat on the stone rim in front of the water, expecting Kyouya to do the same when he could not walk far, but he did not. Again, already, he seemed a little agitated.

Haruhi didn't push him, but listened to the water fall, and draped her fingers in the flow to distract herself from the fact that it was possible, just possible, there was another reason, a tiny flame of hope, that had prompted her to follow him so readily.

"Haruhi." His voice came eventually, with that same note of certainty. "I need to talk to you."

She turned and gave him her full attention. For a moment, he seemed to find it hard to meet her gaze, focusing instead on the fountain. But then his eyes met hers.

"I still don't remember very much." He said, bluntly.

"I know." Haruhi answered. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does." He said, quite unexpectedly. "Haruhi, you said yourself this is hard for you, didn't you? That it… hurts. I don't want to hurt you."

"It's not your fault you don't remember!" She answered, hastily, worrying that her guilt tripping back in the room had greater effect then she had wanted it to. "So it really doesn't matter that you can't remember…"

"That's the thing. It matters. To me." Kyouya said, a little haltingly. "And I didn't think it would."

Haruhi blinked a little. Truth be told, she didn't think her feelings would matter to him very much, even when they were friends she hadn't thought they were realistically high in his priorities, and now they'd been reduced to practical strangers…

Kyouya was still talking, perhaps unable to stop. Somehow, she thought, if he stopped, he would never continue. "So I've been thinking a lot about why it seems to matter so much, and why it should matter, and I've remembered a little… What I'm saying is, Haruhi, I think it's only right that we continue where we left off."

Haruhi was lost. "…What do you mean?"

Kyouya pressed on. He couldn't believe he had actually… anyway. He certainly wasn't going to do anything as indecent as just walking out and leaving her, but it seemed she was already resigned to that. "I mean we should go out again, Haruhi. It's the only decent thing… and… I'd like to. Even though I don't remember ever… I would like to go out on Saturday. With you."

Kyouya did not think such an awkward sentence had ever passed his lips. Then again, he had never felt this awkward… and yet, somehow, so right. He hoped that, by re-starting the relationship he would perhaps be able to remember the past, perhaps be able to reshape his life…

Unfortunately, Haruhi was still saying nothing, still gawping at him. The thing was, she was rather surprised. 'Surprised' was rather an understatement, actually, and then that was coupled with embarrassment, a tiny touch of inexplicable guilt, and the odd feeling that this would be extremely amusing to someone out there. Finally, she found her voice, and asked, as calmly as she could:

"Kyouya-senpai. Are you… Do you think we were an item?"

He looked at her slowly. She could almost see a mantra of swearwords creeping through his otherwise cultured brain. "Are you saying we… weren't?"

"No. We weren't."

Kyouya's poor, confused brain- that wasn't at all used to being confused and didn't quite know what to do with itself- seemed close to melting. He couldn't quite accept what she had just said. "…Never?"

"Never."

He fell silent for a long time. But his brain had frozen. After spending so long trying to convince himself there had to be another explanation and then accepting there wasn't, to find there was after all was somewhat confusing. "If that's the case, then what I remembered must be wrong…"

"What did you remember?" She asked, patiently.

"I remember going out with you! Eating with you... somewhere. Dancing with you. Being at your house. You being at my beach house. Why would we have done any of those things if not…?"

"Eating with you, huh…?" Haruhi tried to remember himself. "Kyouya-senpai, I think you're thinking of a festival Tamaki-senpai dragged you to while you were asleep. They left you somewhere, and then you bumped into me. We ate in a fast food place. Defiantly not a date, particularly as I was paying."

"What about the dancing? Hardly like me…"

Haruhi smiled gently at him, beginning to see why he had ended up with the conclusion he had. "That was just at the school culture fest. I danced with everyone there. Same with the memories of visiting me- it was Tamaki-senpai's idea, you all came."

Kyouya was quiet for a long time, probably, Haruhi thought, digesting these new angles. Then he spoke again.

"And the beach? I remembered you getting thrown…"

"Ah. That was bad. Tamaki-senpai had to dive after me." She laughed slightly. Then she noticed the look on Kyouya's face and got a sinking feeling. She hardly liked to say it. Reddening slightly, she forced herself to ask. "Ah, Kyouya-senpai… are you thinking of later? In your bedroom?"

His face told her the answer was 'yes'.

"Nothing happened." She said, firmly. "You were just proving the point I'd been reckless taking on those me that threw me into the ocean. But nothing happened."

Kyouya said nothing. He had never felt embarrassment so severe. He simply didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He knew he would be relieved, later, and that this explanation made a lot more sense all things considered, yes, the relief of it… but really, he was beyond the embarrassment that made people want to hide, and up to the point where it didn't even seem real. He simply wasn't in this situation. He spoke through his hands, still stubbornly trying to prove his point, though it sounded almost like he was talking more to himself by this point.

"But there must have been something! There's something you're not telling me, there must be, because otherwise why do I feel like that every time I so much as look at you…?"

"Ah." Haruhi said, in a rather odd tone of voice. "That, I can't tell you."

Kyouya stood. He didn't know what to do, didn't know what had made him believe such madness, let alone say it. He didn't know what to do, but he had to leave. He had to go.

His mind was pounding. His memories felt closer then ever, pounding behind a screen just a centimetre out of reach. His mind felt drained and empty. He couldn't think. Not of anything relevant. But, as usual, a memory slipped suddenly into his mind. Not one from his 'blank spot'. One from years ago, a weekend excursion with Tamaki… one he had dreamt about. A memory of a little seaside town.

"Haruhi." He said, figuring he may as well just ask when things could not be any worse. "Did you ever go to a village called Karunai?"

"Yes." She said, suitably bewildered. "The summer before I went into my final year of middle school."

Kyouya laughed bitterly. His initial scan did not reveal anyone important, at least as far as he knew; but then his eye was drawn to a girl, probably a middle-schooler, brushing long brown hair back behind her ear with one hand, the movement what attracted his gaze. His dreams had drawn his attention to her, a girl he'd walked straight past in reality, but had importance there. He'd just remembered.

Not that it matters.

He continued leaving.

"Kyouya-senpai!" Haruhi said, suddenly, and he reluctantly turned to face her. She was standing in front of the fountain now, looking at the falling water, putting her hand in it again. Stalling. She was thinking of those weeks, those terrifying, horrible, dark weeks when she had believed he was going to die. She remembered the day that they had been told the plug would be pulled on Kyouya, and the dark avenues her thoughts had not been able to escape.

She stared up at the overcast evening sky and tried to imagine what it would be like without Kyouya. She'd never tried before, because it was inconceivable. There was just… no way to imagine. Something about him, and his strange, twisted sense of humour that was almost unnoticeable and dry as a desert; and something about his arrogance and confidence, and the strange way he did, yes, want to look after his friends; even though he couldn't admit it… It wouldn't be the same without him.

She didn't want it to change.

Haruhi had remembered. And she had called out to him.

"Yes?" He said, sharply, the irritation making a bad attempt at hiding his embarrassment.

"I haven't answered your question yet." She said, quite straight-forwardly. "So… yes. If you'll have me, if you meant what you said about 'that' feeling… I would like very much to go out with you on Saturday."

Kyouya couldn't help but stared. He was even more surprised to find that, actually, he was quite prepared to go out with her regardless. She seemed to read his expression again, and he was saved from the embarrassment of agreeing.

"Of course," she said, glancing at his crutch. "We won't be able to do much, with your leg like that. Maybe if we just go to the cinema or something? Sorry if that's not fancy enough, but you're defiantly not coming to my house because dad would never let me hear the end of it…"

Kyouya seemed momentarily taken aback. Then he chuckled slightly, something that didn't happen often and made Haruhi very curious.

"What?"

"I just remembered why I fell off the roof."

"Why?"

"I was engrossed in thought."

"What about?"

"The stocks in our hospital. What else?"

Haruhi rolled her eyes and then, after telling him she'd meet him outside her house at 10:30 on Saturday morning, suggested they went back inside, and wondered if they should tell Tamaki the most recent development of their relationship. It probably wasn't a good idea, she thought.

Kyouya didn't say very much, still relieved she had bought the 'stocks' line and kicking himself for mentioning it to begin with. One thing was for sure, he wouldn't be telling her what he had really been thinking about. About the film he would like to see. More importantly, about the film he had wanted to see with her. He had been pondering about whether he should ask her, or how he should ask her, or what people would say if he asked her, and if he wasn't supposed to be above such trivial things anyway. And, being so deep in thought about such trivial things, pacing, he'd some how managed to trip and fall.

How very idiotic.

Yet, somehow, it didn't seem to matter quite so much as he watched her walk slowly by his injured side, strangely unable to stop grinning. He wondered if he had that same idiotic expression. It was quite possible. Then people would undoubtedly guess whether they told them or not.

And most of those people still believed Haruhi to be a boy…

"What's up?" She asked, pausing just before the door to the third music room. "Did you remember something?"

"Not yet. But I'm sure it won't be long."

"Right." She nodded, grasping the door handle. "But, for now, don't worry too much about old memories; and let's build some new ones."

With that, before he could even answer, she pushed the door open and breezed in as if nothing had happened.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

A/N: And there we have it. Did you enjoy it? Will Fruiti-chan stop bothering me now:P Ha ha! Anyways, thanks for reading, everyone!