Chapter Three:

Fuyumi takes me to a small, secluded cafe a few minutes' walk from the office. On our way out, I mutter to George that I'm taking our very important client out to discuss further matters about the case. He nods, says he'll pass the message along to Saki and anyone else who asks where I am.

By the way Fuyumi navigates the streets, I can tell she's been in this area many times before. She moves quickly, finding all the shortcuts through side streets, and dodges people traffic. As she walks, she's always three steps ahead of more. No more, no less. After a particularly tricky right turn down an alleyway, she looks behind to make sure I'm still there. Otherwise, our walk is in silence, and wrought with tension. She leaves me to my own thoughts, and I to hers.

The cafe itself appears to be nothing special. There are no flashy signs outside, no gimmicks like free wi-fi, and no big windows to entice customers with scenes of cosy armchairs and low lighting, perfect for cozying up with a blanket and well-worn book. Instead there are just a few tables, each in their own secluded area, clearly meant for an intimate conversation. I automatically gulp when I realize this.

There are few other patrons sitting and talking when we enter. Fuyumi nods towards an empty table, gesturing me to sit down and wait while she orders. I nervously drop my bag on the ground, making a loud clang. No one looks up. They're all too engrossed in their own private conversations.

"I've been coming here since I was a teenager," Fuyumi says, breaking the ice as she sits down at our table. "I found it after a remarkably bad day at home. I don't know what Kyoya ever told you about my family, but Kyoya and I see things differently than the rest of them. I love my family dearly, but they're...more focused than Kyoya and I are." She shakes her head and gets back to the topic. "I don't even know how long ago this fight was...it must have been 25 years, I don't know, but I argued with my father, got fed up, and ran into the city. Wandered the streets alone and upset for a couple of hours before I stumbled across this little cafe. I've been coming back ever since."

"I know it's stupid," Fuyumi chuckles to herself, "but I think this place is magic. Like, you can only find it if you need this place. There's something about it that makes everything better, don't you think?" Her face is solemn as she finishes speaking, but I can see her Ootori family training kick in. Moments later, she flicks the switch, going back to the cheerful, outgoing Fuyumi the world sees.

The waiter brings us our drinks, placing them in front of us without a word. Fuyumi says thank you, and pushes the drink towards me. "Try it," she urges. "You'll like it."

Unnerved by the sudden change in attitude, I hesitate before tasting the drink like she suggests. However, all my misgivings fade away once the liquid touches my lips. It's incredibly good. It's so good that I know instantly I'll be back. I'm not sure how to even describe it. It's not coffee; I know that. But it's somewhat fruity, and I think chocolately, and maybe there's even a little alcohol.

Fuyumi smiles. "It's flavored chai," she explains. "It's pretty rare in Japan, but a number of places serve it in the States now." I nod my head, but say nothing. Despite her attempts at talking, the air is thick, and I'm waiting for the shoe to drop.

"So," I say, trying to steer the conversation. Fuyumi stares blankly at me. She blinks twice, and scans my face, as if she's searching for something.

"Did you really think I wouldn't remember you Fujioka Haruhi?" She says, teasing me.

I shrug. "I don't know. It's been years since I've seen you, and we only met a handful of times, and you pretended that you didn't know me first, so I just uh,...went with it."

"Only because you froze like a deer in headlights when you saw me! Don't think I didn't notice that, Haruhi." She tries to imitate my face in Nakamura's office, and regardless of its accuracy,...it's pretty funny. She makes me giggle, which is when I know things are going to be okay. Either Fuyumi doesn't know what happened between Tamaki and I, or she doesn't care.

"Well, you were the last person I was expecting when I walked into Nakamura-sacho's office this morning," I argue. "I heard I was meeting with an important client, so imagine when my surprise when I discovered it was just an Ootori." I stick out my tongue, which makes Fuyumi laugh.

"Just an Ootori," Fuyumi echoes, as she waves her hand dismissing my comments. "How have you been all this time? I know it's the cliche old-person thing to say, but you were so little when I last saw you. You were this mousy lost girl, and now you're...," she pauses searching for the right words. "grounded."

"Um, thank you." I felt grounded up until this morning when Fuyumi, and with her, Ouran High School walked back into my life. But, I don't mention this to her. We talk for several minutes about law school, Nakamura, and how I enjoy working for him. The conversation fizzles out, and emboldened by her frankness, I get curious. "Can I ask what happened with your marriage?"

Fuyumi looks up in surprise. "Oh, that" she says. "There's nothing that happened, really." She explains. "I never really loved him and he never really loved me. It was a marriage of convenience. He's not a bad person; we just weren't meant to be together."

"Then why stay married to him for so long?"

"We had to." She shrugs. "I know you've heard this dozens of times from Kyoya, Tamaki and the others, but I don't think you'll ever really be able to understand." I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up her hand and clarifies herself. "No, no, it's not because of you. You just can't understand because you've never been put in this position, Haruhi."

"When you're as wealthy and powerful as we are, people expect things from you. You're supposed to look and act a certain way. You're supposed to smile and look pretty and be smart enough to take over the company, but not actually do it. You're supposed to speak six languages you'll never need to use, and you're definitely supposed to love a certain kind of person. The person I loved didn't fit the bill, but Shido did. So, we got married." She says it so matter of fact that I want to cry. I've heard everything she's said before, but somehow the earnestness of her words get to me.

"Then why get divorced now?" I ask. "I can't imagine your father is happy about this."

"Things change," she says all too quickly. "My father is no longer a concern." Fuyumi's voice is ice cold as she finishes her sentence. She looks down at her drink, and says nothing else. I wonder what happened, but I know that I shouldn't press her further. I nod to myself, and sit quietly, waiting for her.

Sure enough, moments later, she turns the smile back on, and comes back to the conversation. God damn Ootori training. "Now. Enough about me. Tell me all about the host club. Something happened, and Kyoya never spoke of it." She corrects herself. "Refuses to speak about it."

"Oh." I'm at a loss of what to say. "We just...drifted apart, I guess. It was high school; it couldn't last."

"I don't believe that for one second." Fuyumi looks at me seriously. "What the seven of you had was something special. You don't just throw that away for nothing."

"People change," I simply say.

"People change back," she argues. "Tell me what happened."

"I was...young and stupid," I start. "I broke up with Tamaki, and the group didn't handle it well. Tamaki didn't handle it well."

"Well, that was a given," she scoffs. "Tamaki hasn't handled anything in his life well. That boy is the kindest, warmest, most well-meaning mess of a person you'll ever meet." I can't argue with that. "You shouldn't feel guilty about that though," Fuyumi adds as an afterthought.

"Oh, I don't. It was...the right thing to do."

"Then why not meet the club?"

"It's like any breakup," I say. "People had to take sides, and they knew Tamaki longer." Fuyumi looks at me and sighs. Her sigh says it all. I, and they, screwed up six years ago. No one has to take a side in a break up. I should have tried harder to hold onto those friendships. I guess in my own way, giving up that life was my way of dealing with my pain. If I just pushed them all away I could focus on college and my dreams.

"You should meet Kyoya," Fuyumi interrupts my thoughts. "He's lonely."

"He hasn't spoken to me in six years," I say.

"So? It's been six years. He'll be happy to see you." Fuyumi looks really determined on this. Do I want to see Kyoya? Do I want to invite Ouran High School back into my life? I'm good now. I'm busy. I like being busy. I like my job. I don't need unnecessary drama.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea,..." I start to say, but Fuyumi interjects.

"It's a fantastic idea. Meet him." She orders.

"No, I really c-can't." I stutter. I'm just not ready for this.

"Why not?" Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she's ready to rumble. Fuyumi isn't going to back down from this. She's like a pit bull. Once she's set her mind on something, she's done. It's her way, and she won't stop until she gets it. Another side affect from the Ootori training, I'm sure.

The words tumble out of my mouth before I know what's happening, and can stop them. They're foolish, childish, petty, and prove that I am a grade A idiot.

Because what I say next starts a chain of events that I was trying so hard to avoid.

"I can't meet Kyoya because I'm seeing somebody."

Author's Note: Whew! Finally had the chance to finish this chapter. I ended up working a lot of unexpected overtime this week, so by the time I got home I was too exhausted to write. This chapter is a little more serious, but don't worry. The next chapter brings back antics, and introduces Kyoya! Dun dun duhhhh. I literally just finished this chapter, so I've got a lot to write a head of me. Thankfully, it's the weekend :D Thank you so much for your continued support! It means so much to me!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story. All respective characters, situations, etc. belong to Bisco Hatori. I am not profiting from this in any way, shape or form. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement.