Ouran High School Host Club Chance Encounter

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Ouran HS Host Club or its characters. Don't sue me.

**A/N:** This is a rewrite of a one-shot from a couple of years ago. I hope I didn't make Kyoya or Haruhi too OOC, but if I did, I apologize. Any suggestions about how I could improve it are appreciated.

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**Chance Encounter**

– A One-shot –

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It was Sunday. Soft rain fell from the overcast, blue-gray sky and people on the streets hurried back and forth under the shelter of bright umbrellas. Kyoya, by contrast, walked slowly. After all, he wasn't like these other people.

They all had places to go, errands to run, and loved ones to visit – he, on the other hand, was entertaining thoughts of great magnitude, grand schemes that danced on the edge of his consciousness. Wrapped up in their little worlds of mediocre ambition, they would spend the entirety of their lives riding the waves of emotions, petty desires. They would never be able to see the opportunities that lay all around them.

Kyoya, however, had ambition. He spent his days within the confines of his analytical mind, his thoughts in constant flux – gauging, weighing, postulating. His life was a constant battle for excellence.

_They are unable to see the forest for the trees. It must be frightful to see the world so shallowly._ Kyoya mused, his stately black umbrella leaning on his shoulder. _I see the trees, the forest...and the land beyond. Because I see more than them, I will dominate them. I will take their blindness and use it to my advantage. Their loss will be my gain, as it should be. _

But if all was as it should be, why did those passing him by on the street look so content and why did he feel so miserable in his heart?

It was an uncomfortable question.

The rain began to fall harder and Kyoya picked up his pace, adjusting his glasses as he went. Along the road, the gutters had turned into muddy, filth-ridden streams. The hems of his slacks had already grown wet from the water splashing up from the sidewalk as people passed him. He frowned, realizing much too late, that he should've allowed his driver to take him to his destination instead of braving the streets today.

But after a rather frustrating morning at home trying to organize homework, balance sheets, and cake orders for the Host Club, he'd wanted some time to clear his head. Though such things were essential to reaching his goals, they'd managed to put him out of sorts for one very serious, very distinct reason: his father had walked up behind him and saw what he was working on.

_"...cake orders? Absolute nonsense! Honestly, Kyoya, a son of mine should spend his time more wisely." His father had said, looking down his nose at him before walking away, head shaking. _

Kyoya's dissatisfaction with the rain and the ignorance of those around him was put aside at the memory and the inevitable shame that came with it. Ever since the day his father had struck him at school in front of his peers, he'd found his father's remarks about the Host Club increasingly disturbing. Kyoya hated hearing disappointment in his father's voice, for each time he did, he knew his father looked down on him. His father had another reason to ignore him in favor of his older brothers. When he heard disappointment, it smarted of failure – and failure was unacceptable.

_Failure is unacceptable._ Kyoya thought, the words repeating themselves endlessly. _I've been given a golden opportunity to show my father my worthiness as heir. I will make him see my greatness. I will not give in to failure, or feelings of failure. There is nothing to gain from it, but everything to lose by giving into it. _

Determination replaced the feeling rising up inside him. Sadness and shame receded. He needed to get home, he decided. He needed to return to his reports, his balance sheets.

You have a cell phone. He reminded himself. You can call your driver to come pick you up and take you home once more. In the meantime, he would slow down again – hurrying only soiled the hems of his pants more. He had to remain calm.

Digging in his pants pocket, Kyoya drew the electronic device from inside. Flipping it open, he dialed the car's number and moved closer to the wall of a nearby shop, out of the way of the others still scurrying around him. The line connected after two rings as his driver answered. But before Kyoya could say anything, someone crashed into him.

His phone fell from his hand, skidded across the pavement and into the dirty gutters. Knocked sideways, Kyoya managed to brace himself against the building behind him, but lost his umbrella for his trouble. A bag of groceries spilled at his feet.

"Of all the damned, foolish-"He muttered, taking hold of the offending person and glaring at them. Brown sienna stared back at him, filled with apology...and then recognition.

"K-Kyoya-sempai?" Haruhi sputtered, looking mortified. "Oh, I'm so sorry I ran into you like that! It started to rain while I was in the grocery store, so I tried to hurry and get everything I needed. Then it started raining harder and I thought I heard thunder and I – well, I just wanted to get home before the storm got worse."

"Haruhi," Kyoya sighed, letting her go and bending down to pick up his dropped umbrella. He glanced at the gutter and he pursed his lips. His cell phone was, undoubtedly, ruined. "Do you realize that your irrational fear of thunderstorms has cost me a cell phone?"

Glaring at her, he walked over the gutter and used two fingers to remove the device from the muddy, miniature stream. Turning, he held it out for her to see. The screen was scuffed and blank – ruined, just as he'd said. She paled when she saw it.

"It was a rather expensive model, I assure you." He told her, stepping closer and looming over her. "You see, I was trying to call my car to come pick me up when you collided with me. Now, not only am I am going to need a new phone, but I'm also going to be late getting home – something that I can promise will make my father quite unhappy."

"Well, I said I was sorry," Haruhi said, clearing her throat and kneeling down in the rain to gather the remains of her packaged goods. "And besides, I'm going to need new groceries...so why don't the two of us call it even."

Reaching up with his free hand, Kyoya rubbed his temple. "You know things will never be even between the two of us, Haruhi – not the way you keep forcing me to increase the amount of your debt."

She glanced up at him, wide-eyed. He looked down at her and nodded.

"Oh yes, don't think I'm going to simply brush this little encounter aside. You are the reason why my phone was damaged." He told her, stepping forward and holding his umbrella over the both of them. "Therefore, I am officially adding the cost a new cell phone to the balance you owe the Host Club."

Haruhi stopped gathering groceries and looked up at him. Her eyes as well as her tone gave voice to her indignation.

"That's not fair. It was a complete accident! It's not like I meant to run into you or anything."

Kyoya shook his head. "A debt is a debt, Haruhi, and you can begin paying it back by letting me use your cell phone to call my driver."

"Fine!" She groused, taking her pink phone from her pocket and handing it to him. "Why not just give me the money to replace my groceries and add that to my debt too. At least then I won't have to cut corners with dinner the rest of the week."

Upon hearing that, Kyoya felt a stab of guilt and hurriedly schooled his expression to keep it from showing. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he cleared his throat and took the pink phone from her hands. As he dialed his driver's number, he glanced at Haruhi out the corner of his eye.

The silly girl hadn't thought to bring an umbrella and she looked a little too thin. Had she already been 'cutting corners' with food? How much money did Ranka actually bring into their house anyway?

"Kyoya-sempai..." Haruhi started, but he waved her off.

"We can replace your groceries while we wait for my driver," he said, interrupting her. "And seeing how you've already made me late for dinner, I may as well take you home. My father can't be angry about that, especially since you made the mistake of not bringing an umbrella with you."

He thought he saw a look of surprise cross Haruhi's face, but didn't want to examine her too closely. After all, his mother had taught him it was rude to stare. That one corner of her mouth lifted in a smile, however, didn't escape his attention.


End file.

Ouran High School Host Club, Friendship