AN: A little one-shot between my favorite Ouran pairing. Fluffy, if you squint. I did get this idea from several birthday fics of this pairing but I did make this original If this sounds like your fic, though I only used the idea of Kyoya's birthday as a foundation, please message me so I can make the appropriate changes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran High School Host Club

The Surprise

He had deliberately not told anyone. Especially that fool Tamaki. He would have made entirely too big of a deal out of it and it would have put Kyoya in the spotlight, which was the last place he wanted to be concerning the Host Club.

While that fool happened to be his best friend, Kyoya's birthday simply wasn't a day he cared to celebrate. He would have a formal dinner with his family, where false smiles and pretend words were exchanged. He would be given money, a new gadget, or possibly stocks in a company from his father if he deemed that Kyoya had accomplished something this year and that would be all.

His sister usually put through the effort to try to get him something and while he cherished those gifts, the effort wasn't usually much. After all, what do you get the man who has everything? So his birthday was usually a dry, staid event. One he didn't even bother to mention to those few people who had somehow become his friends.

It was a usual day in the Ouran High School Host Club. Tamaki's great idea this time had been a Shakespearean theme, since the High School would be putting on a version of Macbeth in a few weeks. The girls lapped it up. Profits increased. Kyoya was still in a bad mood. Others noticed this and tried to keep out of the Shadow King's way.

Except for Hunny that is. Hunny attempted to try to give Kyoya some cake to cheer him up before Mori picked him up and carted him away, reminding him that "Kyo-chan" didn't like sweets. Everyone else was wise enough to stay the hell away.

The Host Club winded down, having its usual after hours routine. The twins wanting to dress Haruhi up, Haruhi refusing, Tamaki lamenting on how the twins were evil and trying to corrupt his daughter, the twins insisting on the outfit, Haruhi still refusing, this time beginning to clean up the music room, Tamaki attacking the twins, hell raging for about five minutes before Kyoya gave a glare that shut the three up, then all of them gradually leaving.

Except Haruhi that is, as it was her week to clean up the music room. She and the twins, being the youngest members of the club, shared the duty but more often than not Haruhi cleaned up since she was sure that the twins hadn't cleaned anything in their lives.

Now the music room was quiet and she and Kyoya slipped into their own routine. He often stayed behind to finish up the accounts and she was, as previously mentioned, cleaning up. She finished and, seeing that he had not finished whatever he was doing on his laptop, she pulled out her homework and began finishing it for the next day.

When she heard the quiet snap of his laptop as he closed it, she finished up the problem she was working on and began putting her things away. They had come to a routine of sorts after several weeks and while neither commented on it, they both enjoyed the peace and quiet of it after the chaos that was the Host Club.

Without a word, both packed up and left the room, Kyoya holding the door for her, her quietly thanking him as he locked up, then they walked together towards the front of the building. Once outside they usually parted ways, him to his car where Tsubana would be waiting with the door open, her to the sidewalk that would lead her to her home.

But today was different. "Kyoya-senpai?" Stopping at the unexpected break in their routine, Kyoya stopped and glanced down at Haruhi. A raise of an eyebrow was all he gave her but she dug in her bag and came out with a wrapped box. She handed it to him with a smile. He took it, bewildered. "Happy Birthday Kyoya-Senpai." She smiled at him, one of those rare, warm Haruhi smiles that were so cherished by the Host Club, before she began her twenty minute walk home.

He just stood on the steps of the school and watched her go, holding the commoner wrapped box between his gloved hands. "Master Ootori?" Kyoya snapped out of it at Tchibana's question and got into the car. He tucked the box into his bag, waiting to open it when he was home, and in the privacy of his room. How had she known it was his birthday? And why hadn't she said anything to the other Host members?

Later, after the predictably staid, dry, and boring birthday dinner, Kyoya shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it up, loosening his tie along the way. Sitting on the end of his bed, he pulled the small wrapped box out of his bag and gently unwrapped it.

She had wrapped it in a dull silver wrapping paper; no doubt a deal she had gotten at the local store. After revealing and opening the plain brown box, his eyes widened and he pulled out the warm brown leather notebook cover. It was soft and of clear high quality, and as he turned it over to look at it he saw the gold lettering on the back at the bottom. "Property of Kyoya Ootori: The Shadow King".

He chuckled, a rare smile creeping on his face before he saw the small card fall out of the cover. Picking it up, he opened it and read, the smile growing the longer he read. "I figured there was a reason that you didn't say anything to the rest of the Club about your birthday but everyone should get something on their birthday. I know there is nothing I can get you that you can no doubt buy yourself but I had to try. I do hope you like it. Happy Birthday Senpai. Haruhi"

Kyoya chuckled and set the card down, examining the notebook cover again. "You always manage to surprise me, Haruhi."

The next day, everyone noticed that, in contrast to the foul mood he had been in the day before, Kyoya was practically humming. No one, not even Tamaki, dared say anything however, for fear of the foul mood coming back.

Haruhi however, noticed the new notebook cover that was on Kyoya's infamous black notebook and smiled glancing up at the Shadow King. He returned her smile with one of his rare, genuine ones that conveyed what he would never say out loud. Thank you.

Fin