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

Chapter 14: Someone to be proud of

Kyoya wakes groggily and for a few delirious moments he's not sure exactly where he is. But as his brain begins to switch on, the fuzzy shapes begin to make sense. Over there is the enormous window of his childhood bedroom. The distant blur of the clock on the wall. And over here – much too close – is the familiar blond head of—

"Argh," Kyoya says, making an attempt to push Tamaki off his bed.

Tamaki flails and resists. "Would you greet Haruhi like that?" he complains.

Kyoya's not awake enough for this, but it seems an excellent way of getting rid of Tamaki, so he decides to go with it. He pulls Tamaki in close, puckering up, and Tamaki squeals and starts to laugh, so hard that Kyoya starts too.

"I'm glad you're back," Tamaki says cheerfully when Kyoya's admitted defeat. Tamaki's lying on his arm, head tucked up against his own. It's a bit weird, but at the same time, Kyoya can't really say he minds. "You never answer your phone, you terrible excuse for a person. Now I can tell you off properly."

Ah, Kyoya thinks. It's not a friendly hug – it's a trap. "How did you know I'd come home?" he asks evenly. He feels at a distinct disadvantage, in his pyjamas and without his glasses on. If this was anyone other than Tamaki, he'd suppose that was the idea. It's not, though, he thinks, struck, not for the first time, how very lucky he is to have a friend like him.

"Fuyumi told me," Tamaki says, and Kyoya makes a mental note to kill her. Or possibly thank her. Right now, he can't decide. "She also told me all about your brilliant, romantic, wonderful omiai plan," Tamaki adds, much too brightly.

Definitely kill her, Kyoya thinks, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I'm going to help," Tamaki says firmly.

"You're not," Kyoya says.

Tamaki ignores him, though. "We're all going to help. But it's on the understanding that if you hurt Haruhi again, I'm actually going to have to beat you up."

Kyoya thinks about this. "Hani and Mori might do a better job," he says mildly.

Tamaki pushes himself up on to one elbow. "Don't joke," he says sternly. "This isn't a joke!"

No, Kyoya supposes, it's not. "I . . ." he says, and then finds he doesn't want to explain. Possibly not ever, but definitely not before he's spoken to Haruhi. Everyone knows he's been stupid, but as far as he's concerned, she's the only one who needs – who deserves – to hear the details.

Tamaki seems to read him far too easily. "You don't need to explain yourself to me unless you want to," he says. "But can I ask you one thing?"

It's going to be terrible, Kyoya thinks. But, "Yes, all right," he says cautiously.

"On Saturday – are you going to ask Haruhi to marry you?"

The question is terrible. Not because it's hard to answer – but because of who's asking it. Tamaki is too nice for his own good, Kyoya thinks heavily. But putting it off won't help. So: "Yes," he says.

Tamaki is silent for a moment, but then he smiles – wide and bright and, even to Kyoya's poor eyesight, reassuringly genuine. "Good!" he says alarmingly. "Because I've already started writing your proposal speech."

The doorbell rings at seven a.m. on Saturday, even though Haruhi isn't due at the Ootoris' till one. Still, Haruhi supposes as she peers cautiously round the door to check she's not showing a stranger her favourite pyjamas, it could have been worse. Mei had wanted to come at six; seven was apparently the compromise. She's grateful for her friend's care, even if she'd rather have just had an extra hour in bed.