Kyoya Ootori's Guide to Self-Deception for Fun and Profit

Chapter 12: Coffee, alcohol and regret

Tokyo

Haruhi doesn't allow herself to think about it too much; she's far too busy. And besides, her mother would be disappointed in her if she screwed up her exams just because she's made a small, albeit amazingly stupid, mistake. There's only one person to blame for the unpleasant situation she finds herself in now, and she finds it helpful, really, that it's her.

It's not Kyoya's fault she misread things so badly, seeing romance where there was only friendship. And it's not Mei's either; she told her so, when Mei rang the doorbell shortly after Haruhi had forwarded her Kyoya's response. Mei was crying. Strange, Haruhi thinks numbly. She thinks she should be the one who's crying, but she can't seem to feel much of anything at all.

It's useful, though, given her upcoming exams. She studies, she crams, she revises, until she's little more than a walking, barely talking, learning machine. It's not too different to her classmates, though, so people barely notice. And when the first day of the National Center Test arrives, in the middle of January, she's not surprised that she finds it . . . Easy would be too strong a word. But fine, certainly. After the second day, when she's completed all thirty multiple-choice tests, she's confident she's passed with marks to spare.

She's still nervous though, when Mei sits with her the day after, an answer sheet Mei's cram school has just emailed over lying on the table between them, small and almost illegible on Mei's phone. They both compare their answers – carefully copied down for just this purpose at the end of each test – with the unofficial results. It's a relief. Mei has scraped a pass; Haruhi has, it seems, done even better. She tears up for the first time since . . . the last time she teared up. It's better not to think about that. When she gets home she spends a long time in front of her mother's shrine, just sitting there, staring at her mother's warm, smiling face.

The next exam arrives, and then the next. It seems a little overambitious in hindsight that she's chosen to sit so many. She's fine with Ouran University, isn't she? But since she's applied, she goes through with them anyway, and . . . they're fine too. Even the LSAT: the exam that would allow her to apply to American law schools, if she decides that's what she wants.

It'll soon be too late, in any case. The deadline for Harvard passes at the end of January; she looked it up what feels like a lifetime ago now.

Haruhi's almost disappointed when she finally finishes her exams and has time to stop and think. She doesn't want to. It's like waking up from a bad dream, to find that what she's dreamed is actually real. Or has she woken up from life, to find that life was the dream and the nightmare was the real world all along? She feels ridiculous, overwrought. She doesn't think like this – she doesn't work like this. She's the sensible, level headed one, isn't she? It makes it worse, somehow. That she's rejected so many confessions – worse, hasn't even noticed so many confessions – and never realised just how much it can hurt.

The numbness is wearing off, she realises – and as soon as she does, she desperately wants it back.

"Want to talk about it?" her father asks. It's Friday evening, and he's due in work in half an hour, but right now he's still very much Ryoji rather than Ranka. Stubble, loose hair, baggy T-shirt . . . all topped with a concerned expression.

"You'll be late," she says, dodging the question with practised ease.

"Oh, I called in sick," he says airily.

She narrows her eyes to stare at him, and he brings his hand up to his mouth to hide a very put-on cough. "You were fine a minute ago," she accuses.

"It came on quickly!" he says, widening his eyes in hurt appeal. "Keep your sick father company for a while, will you, Haruhi? I'll make us both a cup of tea."