Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

.“Sometimes, the silence understands more than the words ever could.”

Haruhi Fujioka was tired.

Not the kind of tired that went away with sleep, or a long shower, or a hot meal although she had been running on caffeine and two hour naps for weeks now. No, this was deeper. The kind of weariness that settled in your bones, the kind that made her wonder, every now and then, What am I even doing this for?

She was a second-year law student at Shichiken University, and for the most part, she had things figured out. Top of her class, firm internship waiting in Tokyo, and professors who treated her like a future judge in the making.

But that didn’t stop the growing hollowness in her chest.

---

Tamaki Suoh was still in her life. Technically.

He was off in Paris, helping manage the French branch of his family’s company. They had gone through years of on and off confessions, long-distance promises, breaks, reconciliations but in recent months, it felt more like she was dating a ghost.

He would send her flowers randomly. Chocolates. Perfume she never asked for. He’d call her "Ma Belle Haruhi" in long, dramatic texts but when she asked if they could video call, he’d say he was busy. When she sent him updates about her studies, he'd just reply with a heart emoji or "I’m proud of you, my queen."

It was all surface. No substance. Like being love-bombed by someone who wasn’t even there.

And she hated that part of her still hoped he’d surprise her.

---

Weekends were her sanctuary at least the quiet part of it.

She lived in a modest off campus apartment complex, away from the noise of the dorms. It was there, every Saturday morning, that she’d catch sight of her soft neighbor Mitsukuni Haninozuka.

He didn’t talk, but he was hard to miss.

Blonde, boyish, almost always wearing oversized sweaters and carrying a tote bag full of snacks or children’s books. She’d heard from the building manager that he taught at a special education at a university. Deaf and mute since birth, but brilliant and gentle. He looks familiar ,that she have seen him but didn't remember where. though never really interacted.

Now, they shared elevator rides. Casual nods. A few smiles.

Sometimes, she’d pass him in the laundry room, reading with his legs crossed on the floor. Other times, she’d find herself watching him from her balcony as he tended to a tiny plant box outside his window. Always peaceful. Always still.

She didn’t know why, but it comforted her.

---

Then came the day she couldn’t pretend anymore.

Her birthday and her supposed anniversary with Tamaki fell on the same day. Febuary 4. She didn’t expect fireworks, but she had hoped for something maybe a call, a silly letter, a memory.

Instead, she got a text.

Tamaki: I’ve been thinking a lot, Mon Ange . Maybe we’re not meant to keep doing this. I care about you so much. But I think it’s time we let each other go.

The words blurred on her screen. Her hand went limp, the phone slipping to the floor.

No calls. No explanation. No fight. Just that.

Just... goodbye.

---

It rained that night.

Haruhi had tried to distract herself. She cleaned. Studied. Drank cold tea. But none of it worked. The lump in her throat wouldn’t go away. Her chest ached like someone had taken a fist to it.

She stepped out of her apartment barefoot, forgetting her coat, the cold biting her skin. The hallway lights flickered softly as she sat down beside someone's door , pressing her forehead to her knees.

She didn’t sob loudly. Just trembled, quietly. Completely. Rain misted from the open corridor window, sprinkling her arms, but she didn’t care.

It felt like the whole world had stopped.

---

She didn’t hear him approach.

Honey had just returned from the convenience store, carrying a small plastic bag filled with snacks: jelly cups, strawberry milk, and a microwaveable pasta he planned to eat while finishing lesson plans.

Then he saw her crumpled against the wall in front of his door, soaked in rain, her shoulders shaking.

His heart clenched.

He didn’t hesitate.

Setting down the bag gently, he knelt beside her and tapped her shoulder with the lightest touch.

Haruhi looked up, startled, her eyes red and full of confusion until she saw who it was.

“Haninozuka” she murmured, voice rough from crying.

He gave a soft smile, then pulled out his phone.

With practiced speed, he typed and held the screen out toward her:

Are you okay?

She stared at the screen. Her lips quivered. But she nodded.

He didn’t press.

Instead, he reached into the bag, took out the small carton of strawberry milk, and handed it to her. Haruhi blinked, surprised.

“Thank you,” she said, voice breaking a little and hoping he can lip what she said

Honey’s eyes softened. He nodded, then slowly sat beside her.

Not too close.

Just… enough.

---

They sat in silence.

Haruhi sipped the strawberry milk quietly, grateful for the taste and for the warmth it brought not just to her throat, but to her chest. It reminded her of something simpler. Something kinder.

After a while, she glanced sideways.
She looked down at her milk. She then fishes her phone on her pocket and type and handed it to Honey.

Today’s my birthday. And my anniversary. At least, it was.

Honey’s fingers paused on her phone screen, hesitating.

Then he typed:

I’m sorry. That’s a heavy day to carry.

She swallowed hard. “Yeah. It is.”

A long silence stretched between them again. But it wasn’t awkward. It was… gentle.

After a few minutes, Honey stood up and offered her a hand.

She hesitated but then took it.

---

Back in her apartment, she wrapped herself in a blanket and sat near the sliding glass door that overlooked the city. She could still feel the warmth of Honey’s presence even after he left.

He didn’t say much.

But in that moment, he had said more than anyone else ever had.

And for the first time in weeks, Haruhi allowed herself to cry.

Not out of heartbreak…

But out of relief.

That someone had finally, silently, seen her.

“Sometimes, the silence understands more than the words ever could.”

-------
TBC.

Chapter Text

Some people enter your life with no noise but their presence echoes forever.”

Haruhi Fujioka buried herself in casebooks.

Not because she wanted to study. Not because the looming oral arguments or internship deadlines terrified her. She studied because she was afraid of what would happen if she stopped.

Every time her mind paused, even for a second, it returned to him.

To Tamaki.

To that message.

I’ve been thinking a lot, Haruhi. Maybe we’re not meant to keep doing this. I care about you so much. But I think it’s time we let each other go.

She hadn’t cried again. Not the way she had the night she collapsed outside her apartment door. Not the way she’d broken in front of Honey.

No, since then, she’d only gone numb.

The pain lingered in strange places behind her eyes, in the pit of her stomach, in the awkward silence when her classmates talked about weekend plans and she had nothing to say. In the way she paused at coffee shops, remembering Tamaki’s ridiculous foam-art latte selfies. In the tiny hope she crushed daily: that maybe he would call and take it all back.

But he didn’t.

So she read.

She wrote.

She made herself busy.

And still, none of it filled the hollow space inside her.

---

It was a Wednesday night when she found herself standing in front of her neighbor’s door, holding a carton of strawberry milk and a small box of mochi.

She didn’t know why.

Maybe because she wanted to return the kindness from that night. Maybe because she didn’t want to eat alone again. Or maybe, she just wanted someone to remind her that she wasn’t broken for feeling too much.

She hovered, unsure if she should knock. There was no sound. No sign of movement.

She pressed the doorbell, then waited.

A string of Christmas lights lit up from behind Honey’s door warm gold and soft white, blinking in an almost rhythmic code.

Her lips parted.

Is that… how he knows Someone's there.

Moments later, the door opened with a quiet creak, and there he was Mitsukuni Haninozuka, barefoot in pajama pants and an oversized hoodie, hair tousled.

He blinked at her with mild surprise.

Haruhi lifted the milk and mochi sheepishly. “I, uh… thought you might want some company.”

He tilted his head slightly, then stepped aside in silent invitation.

She entered.

---

His apartment felt like a soft retreat from the world. Minimalist, warm, and filled with small signs of who he was: a mobile of paper stars hanging from the ceiling fan, children’s drawings framed on the wall, a bookshelf full of worn educational materials.

He gestured to the low table by the window. She sat.

He pulled out his phone and typed.

-You didn’t have to bring these. But I’m glad you did.

She smiled faintly, setting down the snacks, she pulled her phone out and typed.

-I needed a reason, she admitted.
I’ve been… trying not to feel too much lately. But tonight felt heavy again.

He nodded, then typed:

-You don’t need a reason to visit. I’m here. Anytime.

Her throat tightened. She looked away, blinking quickly.

-Even when I don’t know what I’m doing?

-Especially then.

---

That night, they didn’t communicate much.

She sipped the strawberry milk, nibbled at the mochi, and watched the city lights flicker through his window. Honey sat beside her, cross-legged, sketching in a small notebook. Their shoulders didn’t touch, but the warmth of his presence wrapped around her like a soft blanket.

It was enough.

For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe.

And in that quiet, something inside her shifted.

---

From that moment on, she found herself looking forward to weekends. She never said it out loud. She never doorbell without a reason. But she hoped every Friday night that he would still be there, lights glowing ,waiting.

Sometimes she’d bring snacks. Other times, a book. Once, she showed him a meme she thought he’d like. He replied with an exaggerated laugh emoji and a gif of a cartoon rabbit doing sign language for “funny.”

She loved how expressive he was, even without sound.

He never made her talk if she didn’t want to.

Never forced her to be cheerful.

He simply gave her space.

And in that space, she began to heal.

---

The more time she spent with him, the less she thought of Tamaki.

She realized it one night when her phone buzzed with an old picture notification one of her and Tamaki laughing at a summer festival two years ago. For a second, she paused.

Then, she pressed delete.

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t ache.

She just… let it go.

Because she was already full with a different kind of warmth.

Not loud. Not flashy.

Just steady. Constant.

Like Honey.

---

She began learning sign language in secret.

At first, it was clumsy tutorials late at night, scribbled drawings in her law notebooks. She’d practice while brushing her teeth, mouthing the words silently in front of her bathroom mirror.

Hello.
How are you?
Thank you.
I’m okay.

Each time she got it right, she imagined the smile Honey might give her.

And that became enough reason to keep learning.

---

One afternoon, she found herself wandering near the Special Education building at the university.

She hadn’t planned to. She’d taken a different route back from the library and paused when she noticed the soft sound of children laughing not out loud, but with the kind of joy that radiated from inside.

And then she saw him.

Through the open classroom door, Honey knelt beside a child in a wheelchair, guiding their hands through signs. Around him, other children played, clapped, signed animatedly. He moved between them like a quiet sun glowing warmth and gentle guidance.

Haruhi stood there, unnoticed, watching.

He looked so at home.

So full.

So real.

She smiled softly, to herself and walked away.

---

Later that night, she texted him.

“I saw you teaching today. I didn’t know you were part of the university.”

“I’ve been teaching there for a year. It’s my favorite place in the world.”

“You looked happy.”

“I am.”

“Do you think I could ever be that peaceful?”

“You already are. When you stop running from yourself.”

She stared at the message long after the screen dimmed.

---

A few days later, after a brutal round of oral arguments, Haruhi stumbled into their apartment building close to 9 p.m. her body aching, her mind exhausted. She hadn’t eaten. Her throat was sore. Her feet were numb.

She unlocked her apartment door.

Paused.

Then, she pulled out her phone.

"Are you home?”

A soft flicker of golden light blinked behind Honey’s door.

She didn’t smile she relaxed.

He opened the door, and before she could say anything, he stepped aside.

She curled onto the cushion near his window. He brought her tea and passed her a small blanket.

No questions.

No pressure.

Just presence.

---

At one point ,she typed on her phone
she looked up at him and she let him see the writing on the screen

-It’s so easy with you

He glanced over, eyes curious.
She typed again and let him see the writing again.

-With Tamaki, everything was fireworks. With you, it’s just… breath. Stillness. I didn’t know I needed that.

He read it, then typed back:

-Fireworks are beautiful. But they disappear. Peace stays.

She bit her lip, hesitating then typed again.

-“You’re peace.”

He didn’t type a reply.

Instead, he reached out and gently hooked his pinky finger with hers.

No pressure.

Just presence.

And in that moment, something inside her finally, quietly, began to bloom.

---

Later that week, she stood again in front of his door.

No snacks. No excuses.

Just her.

She raised her hand and, carefully, signed:

“Can I stay?”

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was hers.

And Honey his eyes soft, bright nodded, then signed back:

“Always.”

Chapter Text

“Somewhere between silence and signs, she found herself watching more than listening.”

It started small.

The way Haruhi began to notice things.

Not just the obvious like how Honey always wore soft, oversized hoodies and his blond soft hair

It was the way he folded his hands in his lap when he was unsure.
The way his brows knit together when he focused too hard.
The way he tilted his head when listening to someone sign, like he wanted to see the emotion behind their hands.
And especially the way he smiled when he looked at her.

That’s what undid her the most.

---

At first, Haruhi didn’t mean to pay so much attention. She was still adjusting to being single. She threw herself into law readings, extra cases, anything to drown out the pain of Tamaki’s breakup text. But somehow, her evenings always led her to the same place:

Honey’s apartment.

She brought strawberry milk, because he liked it. Mochi, too especially the kind with red bean filling.

And every night, he’d greet her with that gentle smile. He never asked why she came. Never pried. Just welcomed her inside, handed her a warm blanket, and let her sit next to him in silence or laughter or whatever the night allowed.

He was always soft around her.

Not fragile just gentle. Like he didn’t want to disturb the peace they built between them.

One night, while sitting side by side watching an old animated film, Haruhi noticed how his legs swung slightly when they didn’t reach the floor. How he absentmindedly rubbed the corner of his thumb when deep in thought. How, when he laughed silently his shoulders bounced first before his eyes lit up.

And when he turned to look at her, cheeks pink from laughter, Haruhi forgot how to breathe.

Because he was cute.

Painfully, impossibly cute.

And it was starting to drive her mad.

---

She started picking up signs.

Not just memorizing them but learning them. Devouring them.

Because she wanted to understand the way he spoke with his hands. The gentle curves, the precise motions, the way his eyes flickered with emotion even before his fingers moved.

And soon she could follow full sentences.

“You’re tired again.”
“You didn’t eat lunch, did you?”
“Stay. Please.”

Each time, her heart fluttered.

Each time, she stayed.

One night, Honey fell asleep with his head in her lap.

Haruhi didn’t move.

Just stared.

At the long lashes resting against his cheeks. The slow rise and fall of his chest. The way his fingers twitched faintly, as if dreaming.

She bit her lip.

How could someone be this soft?

And how could she want to protect him so badly it ached?

---

Then came Reiko.

One Thursday afternoon, as Haruhi exited the law building, she passed by the SPED building on her way to the library.

There he was.

In the garden, sitting beside a woman with sleek black hair and kind eyes.

They were signing quickly comfortably.

She laughed. Touched his arm.

He smiled. Wide.

It was different from the shy smiles he gave her.

Haruhi paused. Her fingers clenched around her folder.

The woman looked up.

Noticed her.

Then signed something to Honey.

He turned.

Brightened.

Then signed quickly, gesturing for Haruhi to come over.

“This is Reiko,” he signed when she approached, hands moving excitedly. “She’s my best friend.”

Reiko smiled and extended her hand.

“I’m Reiko. I can hear and speak, but I teach sign fluency. Nice to meet you, Haruhi.”

Haruhi shook her hand, smiling tightly.

She tried not to stare at how close they sat. At how naturally Reiko’s hands moved when she signed to Honey. At how relaxed he looked.

She made up an excuse to leave after a few minutes.

And that night she didn’t go to his apartment.

---

Instead, she stood in front of her mirror, dressed in a baggy shirt, toothbrush hanging in her hand, and stared at herself.

Her bangs were slightly uneven. Her eyes looked tired.

She replayed the garden scene over and over in her head.

Reiko laughing.

Honey smiling.

The ease. The closeness.

And she muttered aloud:

“Why are you jealous?”

She said it like a joke.

But it didn’t feel funny.

“You’re just friends, right?” she whispered.

Her reflection didn’t answer.

But the pounding in her chest did.

Because the way her heart clenched at the sight of his smile
It wasn’t friendship.
It was something else.

And she wasn’t ready to admit how deep it already ran.

Chapter Text

POV: Honey (Mitsukuni Haninozuka)

“Silence wasn’t always peaceful. Sometimes, it was where feelings grew too loud.”

The first thing Honey noticed was the way Haruhi smiled that day.

It wasn't the usual one the soft, tired but-genuine curve of her lips that made his chest flutter when she looked at him across the tiny coffee table in his apartment. This smile was thinner. Fragile.

“Are you okay?”
He signed slowly, fingers steady.

Haruhi paused mid step as she took off her shoes at the door. Then she smiled again that same tired one.

“Just tired,” she signed back.

And for a moment, he wanted to believe her.

But he could feel it the shift. The quiet between them that wasn't comfortable today, but heavy.

Still, he nodded.

Turned toward the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out the vanilla cupcakes he’d made the night before. He always kept small sweets for rough days.

Today felt like one of those.

He placed a cupcake in front of her, then poured hot water into her favorite mug with the sleepy bear print. She sat cross legged across from him, arms draped over her knees, eyes distant.

They didn’t need to talk to share the moment. But today, he wished he could say more.

---

It was during the second bite that it happened.

He was licking a smudge of frosting from his thumb when he felt it a soft tap on his shoulder.

He turned, blinking.

And there she was closer than usual.

Haruhi leaned in, her face just inches from his.

Without saying anything, she raised a hand and gently wiped a streak of white frosting from the corner of his lower lip.

She looked focused, casual, as if it was nothing.

But Honey’s breath caught.

And for a moment, his chest didn’t know what to do.

Her touch was feather light. Her fingers lingered just a second too long. His heart thumped, loud and confused.

Was it the frosting?

Was it her?

Or was it something else entirely?

He swallowed hard.

And when she pulled away like nothing happened, he didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

---

The next day, he sat across from Reiko at their usual table by the open courtyard near the SPED building. The late morning sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the bench between them.

She handed him a cheese sandwich, which he took with a small bow of thanks.

They ate in silence their shared language of comfort.

Then Reiko looked up, eyes sharp behind her round glasses.

“So,” she signed, “what’s going on with you and Haruhi?”

Honey blinked.

Nearly dropped his sandwich.

His hands hovered, hesitant.

Reiko tilted her head.
“You light up when she’s mentioned. You talk about her like she’s in every hour of your day. And lately… she’s been walking past this building a lot more.”

Honey didn’t answer.

He couldn't.

Reiko’s expression softened a little, but her hands moved with firm grace.

“Do you feel something for her?”

His stomach twisted.

He wanted to lie. Wanted to say no and end the conversation.

But he couldn’t.

So he looked down and didn’t sign anything.

Reiko’s silence stretched between them.

Then

“Mitsukuni… she’s a student.”
“Even if she’s not in our department, the policy’s strict. You know that.”

He nodded.

Slowly.

Reiko reached forward and touched his hand gently.
“I’m not judging you. I’m not angry. I’m just worried.”

Her fingers trembled slightly as she continued.

“You’re a good teacher. You worked so hard to be here. Don’t throw that away.”

“If you feel something you need to stop before it becomes something harder to undo.”

Honey looked away.

His chest hurt.

Not just from her words but because part of him knew she was right.

And yet… he couldn’t imagine going back to the quiet without Haruhi in it.

Not anymore.

Chapter Text

It’s hard to understand what’s wrong when no one says it out loud. Especially when silence used to mean comfort.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It started with distance.

Not the physical kind they were still just across the hall, just one knock or doorbell press away.

But Honey had stopped answering.

Not always. Not cruelly.

He would still reply to Haruhi’s texts with his usual stickers. Still leave her favorite milk in her apartment fridge when she had exams. But something had shifted.

And Haruhi could feel it.

---

She first noticed when he stopped waiting by the door.

Usually, when she visited, the moment the lights on the Christmas string flickered his silent doorbell signal the door would open immediately. He’d smile, wave, sometimes already holding a blanket or warm tea.

But now… it was delayed.

Sometimes a minute. Sometimes five.

Sometimes… not at all.

And Haruhi would walk back to her apartment with her untouched strawberry milk slowly warming in her hand.

---

At first, she told herself it was fine.

He was just busy.

He had classes. Students. Papers. A life outside of her.

But when it kept happening when he stopped sitting close, when he signed less, when he wouldn’t look her in the eye it hit her harder than she expected.

Because it wasn’t just loneliness.

It was loss.

The comfort she had found in him that silent warmth, that safe, soft space was slipping away. And she didn’t understand why.

Because for the first time in a long time, she hadn’t been hurting.

Not when he was there.
----

One day, she made her way to the SPED building.
A part of her hoped. Prayed.
But when the door opened, it was Reiko who stepped out.

“Is Honey here?” Haruhi asked, trying to stay composed.
Reiko blinked. Then nodded toward the inside. “He’s in a meeting ”

There was a second of stillness between them.
Haruhi offered a tight lipped smile and stepped away.

Behind that door, Reiko leaned against the frame and sighed.
Inside, hidden behind the divider, Honey clenched his fists and stared at the floor.

---

That night, the silence cracked.
A thud outside her apartment pulled her from her reading.
Another sound. A soft groan.

She opened the door heart racing and there he was.

Honey.
Drunk.
Disheveled.
Leaning against the wall like gravity had turned cruel on him.

Her heart dropped. “Mitsukuni?”

He looked at her, blinking slowly.
Then raised shaky hands and signed:

“Haruhi.”
Then
“Sorry.”

She rushed to him.

---

She helped him into the apartment and sat him on the sofa. He was heavy in the way only sadness could make someone.
He didn’t resist.

His hands trembled on his lap.
She brought him water. He didn’t drink.

Then, slowly, he began to sign.

Sloppy. Staggered. But clear enough.

“Reiko said… I shouldn’t feel this.”

Haruhi’s chest tightened. She sat beside him.

She waited.

He looked at her, crushed, searching.

She stared at him. Then signed

“What… shouldn’t you feel?”

His hands stilled.
He stared at her. Eyes red. Tears threatening.

Then his fingers moved again.

“I tried. I really did. I told myself I was just being kind. That I was just giving you comfort. But every time you smiled at me, every time you signed something new just to talk to me…”
“I know we’re just close friends…”
“But I feel like I’m falling already.”
“I avoided you to make this feeling stop.”
“But it only got worse.”
"I'm sorry"

He's sobbing harder

Haruhi stared, frozen.

And finally he signed again
“I love you.”
He braced for rejection.

But instead

Haruhi leaned in.
She cupped his face gently.
And kissed him.

Soft at first.
Then with all the ache in her chest. All the fear. All the longing.

She kissed him again.
And again.

And he responded messy, hesitant while sobbing.

Their bodies leaned into each other. Breath mingled. Hands found purchase. Her fingers brushed through his hair. His hands gripped the side of the couch.

When her lips brushed his neck, he gasped softly.
She kissed down his collarbone. Bit gently into the skin.

He made a soft, involuntary sound one he didn’t even know he could make.

She pulled back slightly, breath hitching.

His eyes searched hers.

And she leaned in again, more deliberately.

Neither of them stopped.

Not until every unsaid word was replaced with touch.

---

Morning.

Honey stirred.

The cold met his bare back. His skin prickled.
The ache behind his eyes was sharp hangover or guilt, he wasn’t sure.

But his chest…

Warm.

Soft.

Breathing.

He opened his eyes.

And there she was.

Haruhi.

Peacefully asleep ,hair sprawled over the sofa.

He swallowed hard.
No blanket.
No shirt.
No distance.

Panic flooded his veins.
He tried to move. Carefully. Slowly.

But her arms tightened.

Her eyes fluttered open.
And she didn’t look away.

Instead, she signed
"Where are you going?"
He don't know what to do.
But then she continue again to sign

“You said you love me.”

He froze.

She signed again:

“You confessed to me last night.”

His fingers twitched like he wanted to deny it.
But he didn’t.

He nodded.

Just once.

And she pulled him back in, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

And for now, that was enough.

----
Tbc.

Chapter Text

He moved again , and Haruhi loosen her hold to him and
He signed back slowly

“Did I… force you?”
“I was drunk. I don’t remember all of it.”
“I don’t know if I hurt you.”

His hands shook by the time he finished. The fear he hadn’t dared name until now finally spilled out between them.

But Haruhi sat up slightly. Her hair fell over her shoulders, messy, beautiful. Her lips were curved into a quiet smile understanding, not dismissive.

She signed:

“Don’t worry.”
“I initiated it.”

She blushed, he's shocked.
glancing away for a moment before her fingers gently reached out and traced the curve of his collarbone.

He relaxed but He gasped at her softly at the touch.

His skin was still sensitive from her kisses her bites and when she brushed over one of the marks she left, he flushed.

“What are you doing?” he signed

She smirked and signed

“Touching the art I made.”

Honey’s jaw dropped slightly, face now burning scarlet.

He didn’t need a mirror to understand what she meant. He remembered now the way she kissed him down his neck, across his shoulder claiming him not like a trophy but like someone she finally allowed herself to love.

With a soft sound and half-embarrassed groan, he buried his face into the crook of her neck.

She giggled silently, hand sliding into his hair.

She didn’t say anything else.

But then she tapped his shoulder gently. He looked up.

But he tried to move back. He remembered the vulnerability. They were still unclothed. Still pressed together. And he was older. He should know better.

He signed quickly:

“This is dangerous. We’re still…”

But before he could finish, Haruhi leaned forward, hands cradling his jaw, and kissed him.

This one wasn’t hesitant.

It was soft, yes, but sure.

Romantic. Quietly possessive. No shame.

Honey stilled then melted.

He kissed her back.

Once.

Then again.

Then again.

They lost count.

Hands in hair. Palms on bare skin. Their breath warm between kisses, as gentle as it was overwhelming. Every soft press of her lips made him feel like he was wanted not just last night, but now.

When they finally pulled apart, foreheads resting together, Honey’s eyes were glazed with emotion.

And though no words passed between them, it was understood.

They were lovers after Honey confessed that night and when Haruhi answered him with kisses.

And neither of them was running.

---

Law school was supposed to command focus.

Haruhi tried.

She really did.

But somewhere between tort law and contract clauses, her mind wandered. Her body sat in a worn lecture seat, eyes glazed over her laptop, while her heart beat somewhere across the hall in Honey’s apartment.

It wasn’t just the memory of their bodies tangled together, or the way he gasped when she kissed his shoulder.

It was the after.

The way he smiled at her when they shared cereal without talking. The way his hands trembled slightly when she traced her thumb along his wrist. The way he laughed into her shoulder with an airy sound.

The idea of hiding it felt... cruel.

She didn’t want to keep this love tucked away behind closed doors. But she knew they had to for now.

Still, her hand rested on her phone beside her. Her fingers itched to text him.

Not words. Just… presence.

A bunny sticker. A heart.

Maybe that would be enough for today.

---

The soft click of Haruhi’s apartment door had become familiar to him like the turning of a page, like the gentle rustle of a memory waiting to settle.

Honey stepped inside, the cool hallway giving way to the soft warmth of her home.

He clutched the small paper bag in his hand mochi, still warm, and strawberry milk, her favorite.

He was about to say something through sign, maybe a joke or a shy compliment.

But then he saw her.

Haruhi was curled up on the floor against the low table on the living room in a soft hoodie ,her back facing the couch thick textbook on the top of ghe table besude her and her stylus between her fingers.

She looked up when he entered.

No rush. No smile.

Just calm.

Like she’d been waiting.

And then without a single ounce of hesitation she patted her thighs and signed:

“Sit.”

Honey blinked.

Then pointed at himself, confused.

“Me?”

She nodded, expression unreadable but gently insistent.

“On me.”

He froze.

His heart jumped. His ears warmed instantly.

Blood surged to his cheeks like fire rushing to glass.

His hands hovered over his chest, as if trying to decide whether this was a joke or a test or something more.

But Haruhi didn’t tease.

She just watched him.

Waiting.

Unbothered.

Like it was the most normal thing in the world to ask the man you kissed breathless to sit in your lap while you studied for law school.

He swallowed hard.

And obeyed.

---

Carefully, gently, Honey crossed the room and climbed into her lap.

His knees bent over the side of her legs, back against her chest, the weight of him light but real in her arms.

Her hand moved almost absentmindedly, wrapping around his waist like a seatbelt. The other returned to her notes, stylus tapping and swiping softly on her screen and he places the paper bag beside hee thick book on the table.

She didn’t even hesitate.

Honey sat frozen for the first full minute, heart pounding so loud he was sure she could feel it against her collarbone.

His hands hovered awkwardly in his lap. His back was straight, his shoulders tense.

He could feel her breath against his ear. Slow. Steady.

His skin prickled with every exhale.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

She just… studied.

With him in her arms.

Like he belonged there.

It took him a full five minutes before his breathing steadied. Before his body began to relax and melt into her.

His head tilted back slightly against her shoulder. His hands rested on his knees. And his heart slowed to match hers.

Her heartbeat. Calm. Anchoring.

Her scent tea and warmth and something so her flooded his senses.

And then, finally, his fingers lifted in a soft sign

“You look peaceful when you study.”

He didn’t expect her to answer right away.

But she smirked.

Her stylus paused.

She nudged his side gently with her chin, then lifted her hand and signed back

“You look like home when you’re here.”

Honey’s breath caught.

His hands stilled.

And though he didn’t sign anything else he didn’t have to his entire body responded.

He leaned back into her more fully, eyes fluttering closed.

His cheeks were still pink. His fingers still twitched.

But inside, he was melting.

Not because she held him like he was fragile.

But because she held him like he was hers.

---

-----
TBC.

Chapter Text

The cold air nipped at Haruhi Fujioka’s cheeks as she climbed the narrow staircase to the third floor. She kept one hand tucked into her coat pocket and the other carrying a neatly wrapped box of dark chocolate truffles. She had taken longer than she’d admit to choose them Honey liked sweets, everyone knew that, but she wanted something that felt more thoughtful than just “he likes cake.”

The hallway was hushed except for the hum of a distant heater. She stopped in front of apartment 3B and pressed the doorbell.

In the pause that followed, a flicker of light caught her eye. Through the frosted glass pane beside the door, warm specks of gold, red, and green shimmered faintly Christmas lights strung somewhere in the living room.

The lock clicked, and the door opened.

Mitsukuni “Honey” Haninozuka stood there, smaller than most men but radiating warmth that made the winter air fade. His blond hair was slightly mussed, and he wore a loose cream sweater with sleeves pushed to his elbows. His expression lit up when he saw her.

“You’re here,” he signed, before adding , “Come in.”

Haruhi stepped into the warmth of the apartment. It smelled faintly of cocoa and vanilla, and the fairy lights cast a soft golden hue over the living room. She sat on the sofa, the chocolate box balanced on her lap, before holding it out to him with a smile.

For you, she signed.

Honey took it with both hands, smiling as he signed back,
"Thank you. But you didn’t have to"

She shook her head, her hands replying, Let me.

As he set the chocolates down on the coffee table, Haruhi’s gaze drifted to several brightly colored children’s books and laminated visual aids sign language charts, picture cards, storytelling props spread neatly across the table.

Honey returned from the kitchen carrying a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a plate of strawberry daifuku. He set them in front of her, and she signed

"Thank you"
before tugging him gently onto her lap.

He chuckled, the sound breathly and a little against her shoulder, not resisting. He was used to her now
,her small, unannounced gestures of affection.

Honey adjusted his seat

"Are you busy?" she signed.

"Just organizing things for the orphanage"
he replied.

"When are you going?'" Haruhi asked again through sign

"This Sunday"
He looked at her with a soft smile.
" Do you want to come with me? I want them to meet you"

She nodded without hesitation and sign “I’ll come.”

Honey’s eyes lit up, his smile bright.

"Do you do charity work there?" she asked

"It’s where I came from. I visit the deaf and mute children there two or three times a month when I’m not busy"

She blinked in surprise. He pouted slightly.
" Why are you shocked?"

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. His pout melted into a grin.

---

Sunday morning was grey and cool, the air sharp with the faint scent of woodsmoke. The train ride to the small town took nearly two hours. Haruhi sat by the window, watching the city fade into rural stretches. Honey occasionally pointed out sights outside a roadside shrine, a stray cat on a fence and showed her photos of the children on his phone, his expression soft with pride.

They arrived at a modest church with weathered white paint and arched windows. Behind it stood a smaller building the orphanage.

An elderly nun approached, her eyes brightening at the sight of Honey. She signed How have you been? before hugging him. Then she looked at Haruhi.

“So you’re Haruhi. Mitsukuni talks about you often. I’m Sister Yuki, in charge here.”

She signed something to Honey, who turned to Haruhi. “She’ll take you with her first. I’ll meet you after, i'm going to meet the kids"

---

Inside the orphanage , the cool air smelled faintly of lavender. On one wall hung framed photographs smiling children, group events, volunteers. Haruhi’s eyes caught on a younger Honey holding a certificate, his grin wide even though the paper looked almost bigger than him.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Haruhi asked, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Yes,” Sister Yuki said warmly. “Has he told you his story here?”

Haruhi shook her head.

The nun’s eyes softened. “Mitsukuni was left here when he was just a year old. We found him swaddled in a worn blanket, asleep on the front pew of this church. He was so small… so quiet, but when he smiled, the whole room felt lighter.”

Haruhi’s throat tightened. “So he grew up here?”

“Yes. He was a bright child, always curious. But he struggled to speak, and his hearing was limited even then. Some people thought that would hold him back, but… he had a way of making friends, of making people feel seen.”

“Was he ever adopted?” Haruhi’s voice was gentle, almost hesitant.

Sister Yuki’s smile dimmed, though not unkindly. “No. In those days, families rarely adopted children with impairments. But Mitsukuni… he never seemed bitter. He studied hard, he cared for the younger children, and he dreamed big.” She paused, then added, “The children here adored him. They still do.”

Haruhi’s gaze flicked to another set of photographs a teenage Honey, a little taller, standing beside a young woman with long dark hair. The woman appeared in several group shots, always beside him.

“Who is she?”

“That’s Sayuri Hashimoto,” the nun replied softly. “She was a volunteer here, and later, his classmate in college. The two of them were close. She helped him through some difficult times. But… she doesn’t come anymore.”

Haruhi looked at her, sensing the weight in her tone. “What happened?”

“It’s not my story to tell,” Sister Yuki said, her smile returning faintly. “But I can tell you this Mitsukuni has known loss, and yet he still chooses kindness. That is rare.”

The words lingered in Haruhi’s mind like a candlelight small, but steady.

“I’m glad,” the nun continued, “that someone makes him happy again. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you.”

Haruhi felt a warmth spread through her chest, mingled with something like responsibility. “Then I’ll do my best to keep him smiling.”

---

The sound of laughter greeted them at the orphanage. Honey stood at the front of a classroom, signing animatedly as children followed along.

“They love him,” Sister Yuki murmured.

Haruhi stepped inside as the nun introduced her. A little boy tugged her sleeve, signing clumsily,
"You're pretty"

Thank you. I like your drawing, she signed back, earning a shy grin.

She helped with puzzles and coloring, receiving an unexpected hug from a little girl that left her momentarily breathless. Honey noticed, smiling quietly from across the room.

When break time came, he signed to her,
"They like you"

"They’re sweet. They remind me of you" she replied.

He laughed airy ,a little sound and softly, leading her to the playroom, where she watched him kneel in front of boy in slow, patient signs. Sister Yuki whispered beside her, “He’s been doing this since he was young. He knows how to meet people where they are.”

The afternoon was filled with small, warm moments helping children build block towers, learning a signed song, sharing sweet bread in the dining hall. By the time the sun dipped, painting the sky in amber light, the children were winding down.

Honey said goodbye to each one, receiving hugs and waves.

---

On the train ride home, the world outside blurred into blue and grey. Haruhi turned to him, her hands moving slowly.
"I enjoyed today. I met people important to you… and I realized I want to discover more of your world"

A faint blush rose in his cheeks as he smiled and nodded. Without speaking, he clasped her hand in his, holding it gently but firmly.

Neither of them let go for the rest of the ride, the quiet between them saying more than words could.

----------

TBC.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun spilled gold through Haruhi’s curtains, painting the little apartment in soft warmth. Her law books and laptop were scattered across the coffee table, but her attention was nowhere near constitutional cases.

Because Honey was sitting comfortably on her lap, his legs curled sideways, cardigan sleeves grazing the skin of her arms. His hair brushed her cheek whenever he shifted, and in his hands was his phone faculty group chat glowing on the screen.

She caught the faint furrow of his brows as he scrolled. Even without asking, she knew: he was buried in teacher reminders, schedules, and admin deadlines. That was Honey always checking if there was something left undone.

Haruhi tilted her head so he could see her hands, and signed

“Let’s go on a date this weekend. Ocean Park.”

Honey’s scrolling stopped. His eyes flicked up to hers, then down again. He set the phone on his thigh, thinking. His fingers moved slowly

“It’s risky. Someone might see us… the school is strict.”

She’d expected that. The cautious look in his eyes, the way his shoulders tensed it was his default defense.

“We’ll be careful,” she signed, voice soft as she spoke the words too. “No holding hands. We’ll keep our distance. I just… want to spend a day with you somewhere fun.”

But instead of answering, Honey’s gaze dropped to his phone again. He unlocked it and began scrolling through faculty emails, almost as if looking for an excuse to say no checking deadlines, making sure there was no school compliance they’d miss.

She watched him in silence for a beat, then reached up, cupping his jaw gently so he’d look at her. Her eyes were warm, steady and sign

“It’s not about the place,” she signed. “It’s about you.”

Honey’s lips parted, but no sign followed. Just hesitation.

So Haruhi leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

When he blinked in surprise, she did it again,And again small, insistent smooches, soft and warm, each one making his ears turn a deeper shade of pink.

Honey’s hands twitched, as if to sign something, but she kissed him once more before he could.

The tiniest laugh escaped him an airy, breathy sound, and precious. His shoulders relaxed, the furrow in his brows melting.

Finally, his hands moved “…Okay.”

Haruhi’s smile was instant, glowing. And before he could second guess himself, she stole one last smooch, grinning at the way he laughed quietly against her lips.

_____

The glass tunnel of the jellyfish exhibit glowed in shifting hues blue, pink, then violet each pulse of light illuminating Honey’s face like he was part of the display. He stood a few steps ahead, watching the jellyfish drift lazily in the water.

Then, without warning, he raised his arms in slow, circular motions, mimicking the hypnotic sway of their bodies.

Haruhi almost dropped her phone from laughing silently, quickly lifting it to record. Honey’s cheeks were faintly flushed, but he didn’t stop he twirled his wrists like the jellyfish tentacles, his small frame moving in an exaggerated, dreamy rhythm.

When he noticed her filming, he gave her a mock glare, then broke into a grin so wide it softened every line of his face.

She mouthed, “Cute,” making sure he could read her lips.

His reply was a little shake of his head, but the way his eyes crinkled gave him away.

They moved on, weaving through the gentle hum of the park crowd, keeping just enough space between them to avoid suspicion. The penguin enclosure came next, where the birds waddled and slid into the water with tiny splashes.

Haruhi tapped his shoulder to get his attention and pointed to one particularly small penguin that was trying and failing to hop onto a rock. She signed:

“That’s you. Small. Cute.”

Honey’s mouth dropped in mock offense, then curved into a shy smile. He signed back:

“Then you’re the tall penguin… the one helping the small one climb.”

Her lips curved in a quiet laugh.

At the park’s souvenir shop, Honey’s steps slowed in front of a shelf stacked with dolphin plushies. He picked up a medium sized one, running his fingers over its soft fabric. Haruhi noticed the price tag and started to shake her head he didn’t have to

But Honey simply placed it into her hands.

Her fingers curled around the plush automatically. Why? she signed with a curious tilt of her head.

“So you’ll remember today,” he signed, eyes steady on hers.

Her breath caught for a moment. They couldn’t touch in public, couldn’t hold hands, but this the weight of the plush in her arms felt just as intimate.
but they were making their way toward the park exit when Haruhi spotted the familiar shade of orange in her peripheral vision. Two identical heads, moving in sync, cutting through the crowd. Her heart sank.

Hikaru. Kaoru.

She didn’t even have time to react before Honey noticed too. His gaze flicked to her, then to the twins, and in that split second, she saw the decision in his eyes. He stepped back, blending into the flow of strangers, putting more and more space between them.

Haruhi wanted to call out, to reach for him but the risk was too high. She could only watch as his small frame disappeared into the crowd, the dolphin plush still clutched tightly in her arms.

“Haruhi?”

She turned, forcing a smile as the twins approached. Kaoru’s eyes immediately dropped to the plush. “Ohhh, what’s this? Souvenir from a secret date?”

“Cute,” Hikaru added with a smirk, leaning closer. “So… who’s the lucky guy?”

Haruhi straightened her shoulders, keeping her voice even. “It’s for me. Bought it myself.”

Kaoru raised a brow. “Really?”

“Yes,” she replied, a little sharper now. “I’m allowed to spoil myself, right? Or is it a crime to come to Ocean Park alone after what Tamaki did?”

The twins exchanged a glance, their smirks faltering.

“That’s… not what we meant,” Kaoru said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Tamaki’s hurt, you know,” Hikaru added, his tone softer.

Her jaw tightened. “Why would he be hurt? He’s the one who broke up with me.”

Both twins looked taken aback, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed their minds.

They ended up steering her toward a nearby café, insisting they could talk better there. She sat with them, sipping at a cup of tea she didn’t remember ordering, all while checking her phone under the table.

No messages from Honey.

Until
One short text: I go home first.

she feels sad, maybe the date on the ocean park really are a bad idea at all .. she shouldnt force him to say yes.
she came back from a reverie when kaoru tap her hands.

"are you okay?" he ask
"yes i am , i didnt expect you two here" Haruhi said

"were here for the ideas from our clothing line" Hikaru said and haruhi smiles as she remember this is one of the twins dream.

“So…” Kaoru leaned back in his seat, stirring his latte lazily. “Do you remember that time in Music Room 3 when Tamaki accidentally knocked over the entire tea set?”
he changes the topic.

Haruhi blinked, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “You mean the time you two replaced the sugar with salt first?”

Hikaru grinned. “Guilty. You should’ve seen his face when he took that first sip. We thought Kyoya was going to throw us out of the club.”

“Kyoya wouldn’t throw anyone out,” Haruhi corrected, shaking her head. “He’d just find a way to make you pay for the damages twice over.”

All three of them chuckled. For a brief moment, the air felt lighter, and Haruhi let herself relax into the familiarity. The twins hadn’t changed much still mischievous, still feeding off each other’s energy. It was almost comforting to talk about the old days, when life was simpler and her world didn’t feel like it was balancing on a secret.

But even as she smiled, she felt the absence beside her. Honey wasn’t here, and she couldn’t stop glancing at the door, half-hoping he might walk in.

Kaoru followed her gaze. “Expecting someone?”

She shook her head quickly. “No. Just… people watching.”

Hikaru smirked. “You were never a good liar, Haruhi.”

Before she could answer, the bell above the café door chimed.

A woman stepped inside, the winter light spilling over her features. Long dark hair, effortlessly elegant, eyes scanning the room until they landed on their table. She moved with the kind of poise that drew attention without trying.

Haruhi didn’t know her personally
But she had seen that face before.

In framed photos from the orphanage
In a classroom picture surrounded by children.
Always standing close to Honey.

Sayuri.

Hikaru was already standing halfway to greet her. “Haruhi this is Sayuri. Sayuri, Haruhi.”

Sayuri smiled politely, tilting her head. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Haruhi replied evenly. Her voice was calm, warm enough to pass for genuine. She adjusted the dolphin plush on her lap, the movement slow and deliberate.

Sayuri took the seat beside Hikaru, and the conversation picked up again now with four voices instead of three. They talked about the ocean park, about how the jellyfish looked like little drifting galaxies, about Kaoru accidentally spilling coffee on his shirt last week.

Haruhi stayed present, contributing here and there, her smiles timed perfectly. But her attention sharpened when Hikaru, with that casual arrogance of his, leaned back in his chair.

“You know, Sayuri and I met because i saw her crying once and the reason is her ex.” He threw the statement out like bait.

Sayuri’s eyes flicked toward him, a faint warning in her look. “Hikaru”

“What? It’s not like it’s a secret,” he said with a shrug. “She was almost married once. Guy she knew from college.”

Kaoru smirked knowingly. “A bit of a tragic romance, if you ask me.”

Sayuri exhaled, a sound that was half sigh, half concession. “We were from very different worlds. He’s deaf and mute, I’m hearing. At first, I thought it wouldn’t matter, that love could make up for everything. But… it turns out, it did matter. And my family didn’t approve.”

Her tone was careful not cruel, but not apologetic either.

“And?” Haruhi asked, tilting her head like this was just harmless curiosity.

“I realized I couldn’t give him the life he deserved,” Sayuri said softly. “Then I met Hikaru at the times im hurting , and with him… I knew I was happier here.” She reached for Hikaru’s hand, their fingers intertwining naturally.

Haruhi’s grip on the plush tightened beneath the table. Outwardly, she remained composed, her lips curved in a polite, non-committal smile. But inside, she could feel the heat beginning to pool in her chest.

"if youre curious of the ex name? his name is Mitsukuni Haninozuka" Hikaru said with a grin

“Small world,” Haruhi murmured. “Mitsukuni’s Haninozuka actually my neighbor in my apartment building.”

Sayuri’s eyebrows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across her face. “Really?”

Before Haruhi could elaborate, Hikaru leaned forward, his voice carrying that careless sting only someone oblivious or cruel could manage. “Honestly, you’re better off now, Sayuri. That guy was way too small for you. And you told me once you felt like a nanny half the time always helping him communicate with people who didn’t understand sign language. That’s no way to live, right?”

Kaoru chuckled in agreement. “Exactly. You traded up.”

The heat in Haruhi’s chest flared hot, sharp. She could almost hear the words echoing in her mind too small for you, nanny, that’s no way to live. They spoke about him as if he were a burden to be discarded, as if the world owed them convenience instead of understanding.

She thought of Honey’s gentle smile, the way he lit up in front of the children at the orphanage, the quiet strength he carried despite the way life had shut doors in his face. And here they were, reducing him to a footnote in their love story.

Her jaw tightened. She forced her shoulders to remain loose, her breathing even. She couldn’t afford to show her hand here.

“I suppose,” Haruhi said finally, her voice calm but edged with something cool, “some people measure worth differently. Doesn’t mean they’re right.”

They didn’t seem to catch the undercurrent in her tone. Hikaru just smirked; Sayuri’s smile didn’t falter.

But Haruhi felt it the shift inside her. The irritation had settled into something heavier, sharper. This wasn’t just mild dislike anymore. This was anger. The kind that didn’t burn out until it had been given somewhere to go.

And she already knew where she was going next.

By the time Haruhi left the café, her pulse was still unsteady.
The air outside was cooler now, dusk settling over the town, but the conversation kept replaying in her mind Hikaru’s smug tone, Sayuri’s carefully composed expression, those words that had sliced sharper than they probably intended.

Too small for you. Nanny. That’s no way to live.

Each one sat like a stone in her stomach.

She walked faster. She didn’t even remember half the streets she passed, just that her grip on the dolphin plushie never loosened. The moment she reached Honey’s apartment door, she pressed the doorbell without hesitation.

It took only a few seconds for it to open.

Honey stood there, sweater hanging loosely over his frame, his hair slightly mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it. His expression flickered from surprise to something softer, but before he could sign a proper greeting, his hands moved in quick motions I’m sorry.

Sorry?

Haruhi blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. She stepped inside when he moved aside, the familiar scent of his place washing over her. When the door clicked shut, she set the plush dolphin down gently near the shoe rack, then turned to him.

And without a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

It wasn’t a polite hug. It was a holding-on hug firm, anchored, as if she was silently telling him I’m here, I’m not letting go. Her cheek rested against his shoulder, and for a moment, she didn’t move.

Honey’s hands hesitated before returning the embrace, his touch warm and careful.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her gaze steady. Her hands began to move slow, deliberate signs. You have nothing to apologize for.

He tilted his head, brows knitting slightly. She added, Not for them. Not for what they said. They’re wrong.

Something in his eyes flickered recognition, maybe, or a quiet ache he wasn’t voicing.

Her fingertips brushed his jaw, and before he could sign anything else, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Just a soft, brief kiss at first then another. And another. Until the kisses turned into a gentle chain of smooches, her lips finding his over and over, almost stubbornly, as if each one was meant to overwrite the sting of what had been said earlier.

Honey’s breath left him in a quiet, airy chuckle between kisses, the sound almost shy. His shoulders eased.

When she finally pulled back, she signed again, her eyes not leaving his You are worth more than they will ever understand.

----
The next day was quieter. The air carried a sharper chill, but Haruhi’s apartment was warm not just from the small heater in the corner, but from the glow of the string lights she’d pinned across her bedroom wall. Tiny bulbs, gold and soft, cast a honeyed hue across the room, making it feel like a pocket of warmth against the cold outside.

Honey sat cross legged on the floor near her bed, his sweater sleeves half covering his hands. He looked comfortable, but also curious his eyes kept darting to the small Bluetooth speaker sitting on the low table in front of them.

Haruhi, kneeling on the other side, signed with a small smile, I want to show you something.

He tilted his head slightly, waiting.

She reached for the speaker, pressing the power button. A soft chime sounded, followed by the faint static of connection. Then, she gently took one of his hands in hers and guided it to rest flat against the speaker’s surface.

Honey blinked at her, brows raised.

Just feel, she signed with her free hand, before pressing play.

Music began to hum through the speaker, low at first, then swelling. The bassline pulsed gently into his palm, vibrations threading through his fingertips. His gaze flickered not quite surprise, but a quiet awareness.

-Under the silver glow of night,
you are the only light I see.
My heart pulls toward you,
like the sea pulled by the moon.-

Her hands moved as she spoke, signing each line with slow, deliberate grace, her eyes locked on his. The music filled the room, but for her, the real melody was the way his expression softened, how he leaned in slightly, listening through the tremors of the speaker and the shapes of her signs.

- If I could, I would stay here,
where your smile turns the dark into morning.
Even if the world forgets me,
I will not forget you-

When the lyrics faded into the instrumental, Haruhi didn’t stop moving. She gently reached out both hands toward him.

Honey hesitated for just a second before taking them.

There was no formal stance, no perfect form just a slow sway, side to side, feet brushing the soft rug beneath them. The glow of the lights painted his hair in gold, his eyes catching the warm reflections. Haruhi’s thumbs brushed lightly over his knuckles as they moved, not rushing, just letting the music’s rhythm carry them.

She could feel his breath, steady now, the earlier tension of yesterday gone.

By the time the song neared its end, she leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips softer than last night, but with something deeper in it.

When she pulled back

Honey was smiling that small, genuine smile that reached his eyes. He signed, I didn’t know you could be so romantic.

Haruhi’s lips curved into a grin. I didn’t know either, she signed back, but I think you bring it out of me.

"I love you " Honey signed with a lovely smile.
"I love you too" Haruhi signed aswell.

----------
TBC.

Chapter Text

The apartment was quiet except for the scratch of pencil against paper. Afternoon light filtered through the curtains, spreading warmth across the cluttered coffee table. Books and notes lay open in organized chaos.

Haruhi sat cross legged on the floor, focused on her casebook, shoulders slightly tense. Honey was nestled against her lap, light as always, paging through his own material though his eyes often drifted toward her.

Her left arm looped casually around his stomach, keeping him close as she scribbled down notes. When he shifted as though to stand, her arm instinctively tightened, pulling him back.

Startled, Honey looked up at her. His brows lifted slightly, his lips pressing together in a silent question.

Haruhi’s pencil stilled. She glanced down at him, speaking softly while her free hand formed careful signs: “Stay. Don’t go yet.”

Honey blinked, then smiled faintly. He lifted his hand and signed with small, fluid motions: “Water. Do you want?”

Haruhi shook her head, voice gentle as she signed back, “No, I’m fine.” She released him reluctantly, allowing him to stand.

Honey padded to the kitchen, poured a glass, and returned. He set the water carefully on the coffee table, but before he could sit properly, Haruhi’s hand caught his wrist. She tugged him closer until he was back where he had started, half-sitting against her lap.

His eyes curved as he smiled silently, his hands signing with teasing quickness: “You’re more clingy today.”

“Maybe,” Haruhi admitted with a small laugh, her own fingers mimicking the signs.

They sat in quiet comfort for a while, the weight of unspoken affection hanging between them. Then, Honey reached up and tapped her arm, drawing her attention. His hands moved again: “What’s your favorite sweet?”

Haruhi blinked, chuckling. She shook her head and answered aloud while signing: “I’m not really into sweets.” She paused, her eyes softening as her hands moved more slowly. “Except for Haninozuka Mitsukuni.”

A smile tugged at her lips as she looked at him.

Honey froze, his cheeks flushing pink. His hands fluttered briefly, then signed quickly in protest “Unfair.”

Haruhi’s chuckle deepened. “Is it?” she teased, signing alongside her words. Then she added thoughtfully, “If we’re talking about real food… I like fancy tuna.”

Honey tilted his head, memorizing her answer with seriousness despite the faint blush lingering on his cheeks.

---

The next day, in the middle of her law lecture, Haruhi’s phone buzzed discreetly beneath the desk. She glanced down at the message.

“Meet me near the SPED building before lunch.”

Her brows furrowed. That place was quiet, tucked away, almost always empty. Curiosity sparked, and by the time class ended, she excused herself from her friends under the pretense of heading to the restroom. Instead, she followed the narrow path toward the secluded spot.

Honey was already there, waiting beneath the shade of a tree, a small bag in his hands. His posture was a little stiff, but his eyes softened the moment he saw her.

“Honey-senpai,” Haruhi murmured, approaching.

Without a word, he extended the bag toward her.

She blinked, carefully taking it. “For me?” she asked, her hands forming the signs while she spoke.

He nodded, smiling faintly.

She unwrapped it slowly, and her breath caught when she opened the lid. Inside, carefully arranged, was fancy tuna.

Her lips parted, then curved into a smile so bright it startled even her. She looked at him with shining eyes, her voice soft as she signed: “Thank you.”

Honey shifted awkwardly, his cheeks tinged pink, but he nodded again. He made a small motion as though to step back, to give her space.

But Haruhi’s hand darted out, catching his wrist before he could move away.

The bento slipped onto the bench as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

It was brief but firm, her mouth soft against his. Honey froze, his eyes widening, his small hands curling helplessly at his sides. Heat rushed to his face, his chest pounding wildly.

When she pulled back, his gaze darted left, right, behind them everywhere. His panic was clear, his body tense.

Haruhi chuckled, her voice warm as she signed reassuringly: “It’s fine. No one’s here. It’s secluded.”

Honey bit his lip, cheeks still blazing red, but the reassurance made his shoulders relax slightly.

Later, when Haruhi returned to her friends, the bento sat openly on the table.

“That looks amazing!” one remarked. “But… that doesn’t look like your cooking.”

Haruhi hesitated only a fraction of a second before smiling. “My father visited yesterday. He packed it for me.”

A lie. Small, but necessary. Her fingers lingered on the bento lid as she lowered her gaze, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
----

The weekend sunlight spilled through the kitchen window, painting soft golden light across the counter. Haruhi paused at the doorway, surprised by the sight before her. Honey stood , his sleeves rolled neatly, shaping white mochi dough with strawberries tucked inside. His small frame leaned forward in concentration, his movements precise yet gentle.

She tilted her head. “Daifuku?” she asked aloud, raising her hands as well, “You’re making a lot.”

Honey glanced up immediately, his lips curving into a smile as he signed: “For the children. At the orphanage.”

Her expression softened. “That’s sweet of you,” she said, her fingers forming the signs with practiced care. After a beat, she added, “Can I help?”

His smile widened, eyes lighting up as he signed: “Yes. Please.”

Haruhi slipped off her blazer, rolling her sleeves wash her hands with soap and
she joined him. Soon, they stood side by side at the counter, hands dusted with flour. The work was easy enough press, wrap, and seal but Honey’s mischievous spirit made it playful. At one point, he dusted a streak of flour across her cheek with a grin.

Haruhi blinked, deadpan at first, then smirked faintly. “You’re unbelievable,” she teased aloud, while her fingers moved slowly: “You act like a kid.”

Honey only laughed silently, shoulders shaking as he signed back: “And you like it.”

She gave him a look that was more amused than annoyed, and together they finished the trays.

---

By late morning, they arrived at the orphanage. The familiar yard was alive with sound children’s laughter, footsteps pounding against the ground, and the distant peal of the church bell. Haruhi carried the trays of daifuku as Honey was instantly swarmed by children who grabbed his hands and pulled him into their games. His silent laugh was bright, radiant, and Haruhi couldn’t help but watch him with softened eyes.

She was placing the trays on a long table when a gentle voice greeted her.

“Haruhi chan.”

Haruhi turned, a small smile touching her lips. “Sister Yuki,” she greeted warmly.

It was her second time meeting the nun, but already there was a sense of calm familiarity. Sister Yuki’s presence had that effect soft but steady, like a lantern light that never faltered.

“I see Mitsukuni brought you again,” Sister Yuki said with a knowing smile. “He’s happiest when he has someone beside him.”

Haruhi followed her gaze to where Honey knelt, teaching two little boys a simple hand game in sign language. The sight tugged at something deep in her chest.

Later, when the children settled to eat, Haruhi found herself beside Sister Yuki again.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Haruhi admitted softly, her hands moving with deliberate care to match her words. “The other day, I ran into Sayuri”
Her throat tightened before she continued. “She looked… regretful. Like she couldn’t carry the weight of being with him. Like she gave up.”

Sister Yuki’s expression gentled, though a shadow of sorrow lingered in her eyes. “Love, Haruhi, is not always as strong as people wish it to be. Not everyone has the patience to embrace someone wholly, especially when differences ask for deeper understanding. Many people retreat when the love they imagined doesn’t match reality.”

Her hand reached for Haruhi’s, warm and steady. “If you truly choose Mitsukuni, I pray you will not grow tired. He needs someone who will not abandon him, someone who sees his silence not as weakness but as strength.”

Haruhi’s chest ached, but her voice steadied, her fingers forming the words as well: “I won’t give up on him. Not ever.”

At that moment, a small boy approached one Haruhi remembered from her last visit. Deaf, with round curious eyes, he tugged on her sleeve and signed clumsily: “Miss Pretty… this one is for you.”

He held up a strawberry daifuku with both hands, smiling brightly.

Haruhi’s heart melted. She knelt to his level, accepting it with both hands. “Thank you,” she said warmly, signing the words carefully so he could see.

The boy giggled, taking her hand and pulling her toward the classroom. “Come! Come!” he signed with exaggerated motions.

Inside, Honey stood before a small group of children, patiently guiding them through simple sign phrases. His expression was bright, his hands graceful, his silent laughter contagious.

Haruhi lingered in the doorway, watching him with quiet awe. And as the children repeated his signs with growing confidence, she felt a weight lift inside her.

For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t just watching from the outside. She was part of this part of Honey’s world. And she realized she wanted to be here, beside him, for as long as she was allowed.

-----

The club pulsed with low lights and heavy bass, its energy far different from the quiet corners of the library or the warmth of Honey’s kitchen. Haruhi’s childhood friend named Rei had pulled her here for a birthday celebration, insisting she needed to “unwind.” And though Haruhi rarely indulged in such outings, tonight she found herself in the midst of a lively booth, a glass in hand.

The drinks were strong, and laughter flowed easily. Haruhi wasn’t used to alcohol, and soon a soft flush painted her cheeks. She surprised even herself when she laughed freely at a joke, leaning into the table, her head light.

It was then someone asked, casually but curiously, “Hey, Haruhi what happened to Tamaki you're not with him now?”

The name was like an echo from a past she hadn’t touched in months. Haruhi looked down at her drink, fingers tightening around the glass. “It’s over,” she said simply.

Her three friends exchanged shocked glances.

“What?!”

“You’re kidding he seemed so into you!”

Haruhi gave a small, humorless laugh. “He stopped trying. Then one day, he ended it. Through text.”

The words silenced the table, leaving only the thrum of music in the background.

“That’s… horrible,” Rei muttered.

“I didn’t think he’d be that type,” Ritsu added, frowning.

“Are you okay?” Akane asked softly.

Haruhi’s eyes softened, and to everyone’s surprise, she smiled. A smile not tinged with bitterness, but with quiet warmth. “I am. Because… I’m happy now. I have someone I love.”

Gasps and eager whispers followed. “What?! Who?!”

Emboldened by the haze of alcohol, Haruhi pulled out her phone and typed quickly. “You’ll see,” she murmured with a grin before hitting send.

---

Half an hour later, the club doors opened.

Honey stood there, small and unmistakable, scanning the room with wide, worried eyes. His phone was clutched tightly in his hand. He spotted Haruhi across the room and made his way quickly through the crowd.

“Honey-senpai!” Haruhi exclaimed the moment she saw him, rising a little unsteadily to her feet. She nearly stumbled but caught herself, grinning as she reached for his hand. Turning to her friends, she announced in a mix of voice and signs: “Here’s my cute boyfriend!”

The table erupted in gasps and laughter, a chorus of surprised reactions.

Honey froze. His face turned scarlet as his free hand shot up, swatting Haruhi’s arm lightly once, twice in protest. His brows furrowed, his lips pressing into a line as if to say Stop teasing me!

But Haruhi only laughed, eyes sparkling with tipsy delight.

Frantic, Honey unlocked his phone and typed rapidly before showing it to her friends

“Please don’t believe her. She’s joking. She always teases me because I’m blonde saying maybe I’m Tamaki’s brother. The landlady gave us the tenants’ numbers for emergencies, and when I saw her message, I thought something was wrong. That’s why I came.”

The friends blinked at the explanation, half relieved, half amused. One nodded politely, another chuckled awkwardly, but their eyes still flickered with curiosity.

Haruhi, however, leaned shamelessly against Honey’s side, her laugh bubbling up again. She reached to tug at his sleeve, signing sloppily “Don’t be shy. You’re mine.”

Honey’s blush deepened furiously. He shook his head rapidly, tapping her arm again, his gestures sharp with flustered denial “Haru-chan, stop. Not here.”

Her friends tried to play it off, making light conversation, but Honey could feel their eyes lingering. He kept himself busy typing polite responses to their questions, all the while enduring Haruhi’s clingy affection. Every time she rested her head on his shoulder or looped her arm through his, his heart threatened to burst.

By the time they managed to leave and
The taxi ride was a quiet battle. Haruhi leaned against Honey with drunken persistence, her cheek pressed warmly to his shoulder, her hands stubborn around his arm. Every time he tried to shift away, she pulled him back, giggling softly at his flustered expressions.

Honey’s heart pounded in his chest, his gaze darting nervously toward the driver, then the window, then anywhere but at her. His fingers moved quickly, sharp with desperation: “Haru chan, stop. Please. Not here.”

But Haruhi only gave him that hazy, stubborn smile, mouthing the words he couldn’t hear but could understand from the shape of her lips You’re mine.

His blush deepened, but he didn’t push her off. He simply endured, body stiff, praying for the ride to end before he completely lost control of his composure.

When at last the taxi pulled up to her apartment, Honey paid quickly and helped her out, his small frame surprisingly steady as he supported her inside.

---

The apartment was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls. Honey guided her toward the bed, intending only to lay her down and cover her with a blanket. But the moment he set her on the mattress, Haruhi’s hands shot out, tugging him down with surprising strength.

“Honey…” she whispered, her lips brushing dangerously close to his.

His eyes widened, panic flickering but then her mouth captured his in a sudden, heated kiss.

Honey froze at first, his entire body trembling, then melted despite himself. Her lips were warm, insistent, tasting faintly of sweetness and alcohol. His heart raced uncontrollably, his hands gripping the sheets as her fingers curled into his hoodie, tugging him closer.

A soft, unbidden sound slipped from his throat a stifled whimper against her mouth. Haruhi deepened the kiss, relentless, her hands sliding toward his hoodie’s hem. She tried to pull it upward, clumsy in her drunken eagerness.

That was when it struck him like lightning.

He was older. He knew better.

Their relationship was real, but Haruhi was drunk, her judgment blurred. To let this go further would be wrong, selfish.

With a sharp breath, Honey pulled away, his chest heaving. Haruhi tried to chase his lips, her hands grasping at his hoodie, but he caught her wrists gently. His eyes were wide, desperate, pained, but firm.

No. Not like this.

She struggled faintly, mouthing words he couldn’t hear, her expression pleading, but he only shook his head. Moving quickly, he reached for the blanket at the edge of the bed and wrapped it around her snugly, tucking it tight so she couldn’t wriggle free.

Haruhi frowned, still mouthing something soft, stubborn words that slipped beyond his silent world. But slowly, exhaustion overtook her. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing steadied, and she surrendered to sleep.

Honey remained where he was, sitting at the edge of the bed for a long time, his small hands trembling slightly as he stared at her sleeping form. Guilt and longing warred in his chest, but above it all was determination.

He lays beside her, careful not to disturb her, and only then allowed himself to close his eyes.

---

Morning light filtered gently through the curtains.

Haruhi stirred, blinking groggily. To her surprise, there was no hangover pounding at her skull. Instead, there was warmth layers of a blanket wrapped tightly around her, tucked in so well she could hardly move her arms.

She turned her head and froze.

Beside her, Honey lay sleeping, his face peaceful, his golden hair catching the sunlight. He was still in his hoodie, still fully clothed, his small chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.

Haruhi’s lips parted, realization dawning. He had stopped her. Protected her.

Her chest ached with a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. Slowly, she smiled, her gaze softening as she leaned closer, pressing the lightest kiss against his forehead.

“Thank you, Honey-senpai,” she whispered, though she knew he wouldn’t hear it.

Still, she stayed there for a moment longer, simply watching him, her heart full.

Chapter Text

Lunch was almost finished when Haruhi felt the familiar weight settle onto her lap.

Mitsukuni’s presence had become second nature to her, like the gentle gravity of a planet she’d been quietly orbiting for months. His small frame fit perfectly against her body as if her lap had been made for him alone. He curled into her easily, his head resting on her shoulder while his legs dangled over the edge of the couch.

Haruhi absently smoothed a hand over the soft fabric of his hoodie, her thumb brushing the little embroidered bunny on the sleeve.

Her fingers moved idly caressing his blonde hair, tracing little circles. She thought he might drift to sleep like this warm, content, secure but then she noticed a subtle change in his hands.

They weren’t playing with the edge of his sleeve or tracing idle patterns against her thigh, and after a moment it stop as he move and take a seat beside her and he sign.

We need to talk.

The playful rhythm of the afternoon vanished. Haruhi’s brows knitted, her pulse quickening as she signed back quickly.
“What is it?”

Honey’s head tilted, his eyes flickering down briefly before he continued, each word a careful shape of his hands.

I have a seminar and training. Not five days… two weeks. Out of town. I leave tomorrow morning.

The words hit her like a sudden gust of cold wind.

Two weeks.

Two weeks without him here, tucked into her lap, his warmth anchoring her. Two weeks without his bright, unshakable smile greeting her in the mornings or the comforting weight of his body leaning against hers in the quiet hours of the night. Two weeks without the safe, silent world they had built between them—where words weren’t always needed because their hearts understood.

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” she signed, blinking rapidly. Her throat felt tight, the motions of her fingers almost clumsy. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

His lips pressed together in a soft line. He lifted his hands again, signing gently but firmly.

I didn’t want to see you sad for so many days. Better one night of sadness than a whole week.

Haruhi’s pout came unbidden, her lower lip jutting out in frustration. “That’s unfair,” she signed, before wrapping her arms around his waist and tugging him closer to her again. She pressed her cheek to his hair, holding him as tightly as she could as if her embrace might keep him from leaving at all.

Then she leaned back just enough to glare playfully and sign with mock accusation

That’s unfair, Mitsukuni.

Before he could answer, she tilted her head and kissed the corner of his mouth, soft and fleeting.

Honey let out a small, breathless laugh, his cheeks tinged pink. His hands trembled slightly as he signed back.

I’ll call every night. I’ll text. I’ll… miss your lap most of all.

Her chest ached, but his attempt to lighten the mood worked. A watery laugh escaped her as she teased back, her fingers dancing in quick motions.

My lap, huh? Not me?

His blush deepened instantly, his small hands flailing in protest before he signed in a rush:

You. Always you. But you spoil me with your lap.

Haruhi smirked, her pout vanishing into a grin both fond and mischievous.

Then I’ll spoil you one more time before you go, she signed slowly, deliberately.

Before he could react, she pulled him to her Close,He's seating on her lap and Honey's legs loosely Dangled.and she tilted his chin and kissed him fully on the mouth. Once. Twice. Then again, lingering longer each time. Her hand cupped his jaw, her lap a solid anchor keeping him from slipping away as her lips grew more insistent, more claiming.

Honey’s eyes widened, his breath hitching sharply against her mouth. His small hands fluttered uselessly before brushing against her arm as if to steady himself. Finally, with a soft gasp, he pressed lightly at her shoulder, cheeks blazing red.

Wait, Haru, his shaky fingers signed. I can’t breathe properly if you keep kissing me like that.

Haruhi only pulled back by a fraction, her lips hovering just above his. A wicked glint sparked in her eyes.
“Then breathe faster,” she teased aloud, before swooping in to steal another quick kiss that left him even redder and utterly speechless.

When she finally released him, Honey stared at her with wide, dazed eyes. His signs came out clumsy, almost helpless.

How do you kiss like that?

Her chuckle was soft, her grin teasing.

My ex was a French boy… Tamaki Suoh.

The moment the name left her hands, Honey froze. His entire face scrunched into the most dramatic pout imaginable brows furrowed, lips pressed tightly together like a sulking child. Without a word, he tucked his face stubbornly against her shoulder.

Haruhi laughed, unable to help herself. She slid one hand to the back of his head, cradling him close, while the other arm wrapped securely around his waist.

And in that quiet, tender moment, something stirred inside her a realization that made her heart flutter.

For the first time since Tamaki had left her life, saying his name hadn’t hurt. It hadn’t hollowed out her chest or made her throat close. It was just a name now. A relic of her past. She could speak it, sign it, think it and feel absolutely nothing.

Her lips brushed the crown of his head as she whispered words meant for her heart alone, knowing he couldn’t hear them

“You’re too easy to read, Mitsukuni. And too easy to love.”

Tomorrow would take him away.
But tonight, he was still here warm, stubborn, and undeniably hers.

---
The morning of Mitsukuni’s departure came quietly. The apartment felt different already, like it knew it was about to lose a piece of its warmth.

His travel bag sat by the door, neatly packed the night before. Haruhi busied herself straightening his scarf, smoothing wrinkles that weren’t even there, anything to keep her hands from shaking.

Mitsukuni’s gaze lingered on her face, soft and intent, as though memorizing every detail before he left. Then, without warning, he tugged gently at the hem of her shirt, urging her closer.

“Hm?” Haruhi tilted her head, bending down slightly.

Before she could say more, his lips pressed to hers in a kiss so soft it nearly undid her. A tender, unhurried farewell.

Her throat tightened. She could already feel the sting of tears threatening, the lump forming at the base of her neck. Don’t cry, she told herself. Not now. If I start, he won’t be able to go.

So instead, she pulled back just a little only to lean in again with a playful spark in her eyes, locking his lips with hers in a quick smooch. Then another. And another. Each kiss light, noisy, almost silly, until Mitsukuni’s shoulders began to shake.

A soundless laugh escaped him, his lips curving against hers. It wasn’t a voice it was a breathy, airy rush of joy, carried in the tremble of his chest and the sparkle in his eyes. His whole body seemed to laugh even if no sound filled the room.

When Haruhi finally pulled back, she found him grinning, cheeks flushed, hands rising in a deliberate sign:

Didn’t you already give me all my kisses last night?

Haruhi smirked, narrowing her eyes playfully as she reached out to pinch his soft, pink cheeks and move away to sign

Maybe I forgot one or two,

she teased, before her hands moved more firmly again.

You’ll be late if you don’t go now.

Mitsukuni’s smile faltered just slightly, enough for the ache to return to Haruhi’s chest. His small hands lifted again, shaping words with gentle certainty.

I love you, Haru.

Her heart squeezed. She took his hands in hers, pressing them briefly to her lips before signing back with equal care

I love you too. Goodbye, Mitsukuni.

They lingered for a breath longer, neither moving, the apartment holding its silence as if unwilling to break their moment. Finally, Mitsukuni picked up his bag, gave her one last smile, and slipped out the door.

The latch clicked shut. And just like that, the apartment felt emptier than it ever had before.

----

The apartment felt different without him.

It wasn’t just silence Haruhi had lived in silence for years, learned to embrace it, even find peace in it. But this silence was heavier. It pressed against her, a silence shaped by the absence of someone who used to fill it with warmth even without speaking a word.

Her mornings no longer began with soft knocks on her door, followed by Mitsukuni’s boyish smile peeking in. There was no one tugging at her sleeve to share breakfast, no small hands stealing bites off her plate with the excuse of “tasting.” Instead, she sat alone at the table, staring at her convenience store buns, chewing in slow, quiet bites.

At night, the futon beside her stayed flat and untouched. Haruhi often found herself rolling toward it anyway, reaching for a body that wasn’t there. When her hand met only cold sheets, she sighed and turned back, hugging the dolphin plush Mitsukuni had insisted she keep.

The plush was soft, comforting in its own way, but it could never compare to the steady rhythm of his breathing against her chest, the way he curled into her lap like he belonged there.

“You’re terrible at warming me up,” she muttered into its fabric one evening, cheeks heating at how silly she sounded. Still, she held it tighter.

Cooking became harder too. She always made too much her hands still moved out of habit, preparing two portions instead of one. She’d catch herself setting aside an extra plate, waiting for him to wander in and steal half with a grin. But no one came. The untouched dish stared back at her, a reminder, until she sighed and shoved it into the fridge.

Every evening, when her phone lit up with his video call, it felt like a lifeline. She answered quickly, her smile returning the moment his face appeared on the screen.

Sometimes they signed about their day her classes, his training. Sometimes they simply stared at each other, saying little but finding comfort in the presence alone.

One night, Mitsukuni signed with a mischievous grin

Did you hug the dolphin plush today?

Haruhi rolled her eyes, holding the plush up to the camera. “Don’t act smug,” she signed back. It’s still not you.

He pouted dramatically, then mimed reaching through the screen, his small hand outstretched as though he could grab her.

Her chest tightened. She wanted to reach back. She wanted him here.

“You’re unfair,” she signed slowly, honestly, her fingers trembling just a little. I miss you. Too much.

His answering grin bright, boyish, unwavering was both her salvation and her undoing.

Every night ended the same way. She pressed her lips to the screen, whispering words he couldn’t hear but that her hands were too slow to sign
“Come home soon.”

And with that, she believed she would endure the days until he did.

----

The first time his name appeared on her phone, Haruhi thought it was some kind of cruel joke.

Tamaki Suoh.

Her chest tightened. For a second, her breath stalled, her thumb hovering over the screen as though the glowing letters might burn her.

The message was simple. Polite. Almost painfully so.

“Haruhi, how are you?”

Just six words. But six words that cracked open a part of her she thought had long since healed.

Her first instinct was to delete it. To erase the reminder before it could stain her thoughts. But her hand froze. She couldn’t press the button. Instead, she shoved the phone into her bag, exhaling sharply as if to expel the ghost that had just resurfaced.

No, she told herself. This doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.

And yet, as she sat in her lecture hall that day, the words clung to her. They replayed, uninvited, over and over until she hated herself for remembering them.

---

When she opened her apartment door the next morning, her breath caught in her throat.

Tamaki stood there.

Immaculate as always, his blond hair gleamed even in the weak light of the hallway. In his hands was a sleek box, wrapped in elegant paper, like a gift fit for royalty.

“Haruhi,” he greeted softly, his voice warm, familiar, disarming. His eyes shone with something between hope and nerves. “I brought you something. Fancy tuna… you always loved it.”

Haruhi’s jaw tightened, her stomach twisting. “It’s not a holiday,” she replied flatly. “Why are you here?”

His princely composure faltered. The brightness in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something more fragile. “Because… I remembered you.”

Her chest tightened again, but not for him. What came to her mind was Mitsukuni’s bentos simple, clumsy at times, but filled with care. A box of extravagant tuna felt empty compared to that.

“I don’t want it,” she muttered, brushing past him.

But he reached for her wrist gentle, not forceful, but enough to stop her. The scent of his cologne curled around her like a memory she didn’t want.

“Haruhi, please,” he said, voice breaking at the edges. “Just hear me out.”

Her hand trembled as she pulled free. “No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to show up like this after everything.”

She stormed back into her apartment and shut the door firmly, pressing her back against it as he knocked softly, his voice muffled on the other side.

She didn’t answer.

But as she slid down to the floor, burying her face in her hands, her heart betrayed her with a whisper she didn’t want

Why does it still hurt to see him?

---
It didn’t end with the doorstep.

Tamaki began to appear in places she couldn’t avoid, his presence slipping into her routine like an old song she didn’t want to hear but couldn’t shut out.

---

At the Campus Gate,

It was after her Constitutional Law lecture when she saw him again.

Leaning casually by the campus gate, Tamaki looked like he had stepped out of a magazine spread coat perfectly pressed, hair shining golden beneath the sun. His presence turned heads instantly, whispers fluttering through the crowd of students.

Her friends noticed first.

“Wait  isn’t that Tamaki Suoh?” one of them whispered, eyes wide.

Haruhi’s blood ran cold. She quickened her pace, hoping to slip past unnoticed. But Tamaki’s gaze found her instantly.

“Haruhi!”

His voice rang out across the courtyard, bright and desperate all at once. Dozens of heads turned as he strode toward her.

She froze. Every pair of eyes on her felt like a weight.

“Haruhi,” he said again, his smile fragile, pleading. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Can’t I do that?”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Stop showing up here,” she hissed under her breath, her tone sharper than she intended.

But Tamaki only smiled, softer this time, turning to the gathering students as if to perform for them. “We’re… reconnecting,” he told them smoothly, a prince reclaiming his lost princess. “It’s only a matter of time.”

The words made Haruhi’s stomach twist violently. Heat flushed her cheeks not from affection, but from anger, shame, and something darker she didn’t dare name.

Her friends exchanged glances, whispering behind their hands. “Wait, didn’t you two…?”

Haruhi’s throat closed. She couldn’t correct him. She couldn’t tell them the truth that she belonged to someone else now. Someone she wanted to protect, to keep hidden from judgment. Mitsukuni was hers, fragile and precious. She wouldn’t expose him to their stares.

So she stayed silent.

And in her silence, Tamaki’s words carved themselves deeper into the air around her, until it felt like everyone was already convinced.

---

Days later, the rain fell relentless, tapping steadily against the café window where Haruhi sat. Books spread open before her, notes scattered, but her focus was fractured. The hollow ache of Mitsukuni’s absence hadn’t dulled if anything, it had sharpened with time.

She sipped her coffee slowly, staring at the steam.

And then Tamaki slid into the seat across from her, uninvited, as though he had every right to be there.

“I ordered you coffee,” he said gently, placing a cup in front of her. “Two sugars. Just how you like it.”

Her lips parted in shock. “You still remember?”

His smile was wistful, heavy with longing. “I never forgot.”

Her chest tightened but not the way it used to. The ache wasn’t longing for him, but frustration. Because Mitsukuni remembered too. He remembered more than coffee he remembered her stress tics, the way she chewed her pen caps, the sighs she tried to hide when she was overwhelmed. His care was quiet and constant, not grand gestures polished for show.

And yet, here she was heart stinging at the memory Tamaki had dragged into the open.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I made a mistake, Haruhi. Let me fix it.”

The air between them grew heavier, suffocating.

She shoved her chair back abruptly, the scrape against the floor breaking the spell. “Stop following me,” she snapped, gathering her things with sharp motions. “This isn’t going to work.”

She stormed out into the rain, heart pounding, books clutched tightly to her chest.

But as the cold drops soaked her hair and jacket, the guilt set in. Because some part of her had let him sit there. Some part of her had listened before she walked away.

---

The persistence was chipping at her. Each time she told herself she was over him, Tamaki found a way to make her question if she truly was.

But at night, when Mitsukuni’s video call lit up her phone, she still smiled. She still signed back with trembling hands, I miss you. I love you.

And that was the truth.

So why did the lies of her silence weigh so heavily?

----

The rain had not stopped all evening. It lashed against the windows, steady and unrelenting, until the apartment seemed to drown in its sound. Haruhi sat at her desk with her notes open, but the words blurred uselessly on the page. Her chest ached with loneliness.

The silence around her wasn’t Mitsukuni’s silence the comforting, warm kind that made her feel safe. This silence was heavier, hollow. She curled her fingers tighter around her pen, fighting the wave of weariness.

And then

A knock at the door.

Her heart skipped, stupidly hoping for the impossible. But Mitsukuni was miles away. He wouldn’t be here.

When she opened the door, Tamaki stood there.

His blond hair was damp, clinging to his forehead. His expensive coat was soaked at the edges, raindrops still dripping from his shoulders. His eyes blue, earnest, desperate met hers, and her breath caught.

“Please, Haruhi,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Just hear me out. I can’t… I can’t let you push me away again.”

Her fingers tightened around the doorknob. “I told you not to come here.” Her tone was sharp, but her eyes betrayed exhaustion. She hadn’t slept well in days, weighed down by guilt each time she looked at Mitsukuni’s messages and thought of the secrets she was keeping.

Tamaki stepped forward before she could close the door. His cologne mingled with the scent of rain, flooding the small space, suffocating.

“You don’t understand,” he pressed, his words breaking with rawness she had never heard from him before. “I’ve loved you all this time. I regret leaving you. I regret everything. I was a fool then, Haruhi… but I won’t be a fool again.”

Her chest ached, but not with love. With anger. With confusion. With fear.

“You don’t have the right to say that,” she shot back, her voice sharp enough to cut. “You left me once, Tamaki. Don’t call this love just because you’re lonely now.”

The words hit him, but he didn’t retreat. His hands trembled as he reached toward her, stopping just short of her shoulders hovering, as though begging without asking.

“Haruhi,” he whispered, eyes burning. “Mon ange… let me make it right. Let me prove I never stopped.”

“Stop it, Tamaki!” Haruhi’s voice cracked as she shoved at his chest, palms flat against the fabric of his soaked shirt. “You can’t just show up, say pretty words, and expect everything to go back!”

Her breaths came fast, anger and panic mixing. She turned her face away, refusing his gaze. But Tamaki tilted his head, desperate to catch her eyes.

“Haruhi, I’m not expecting forgiveness overnight. I just” his voice faltered, his hands shaking, “i  just need you to see I never stopped caring. I never stopped loving you.”

Her laugh was bitter, sharp. “Love? You don’t get to use that word. Not after you left me behind.”

Tamaki flinched, his jaw tightening. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought letting you go would make your life easier. But I was wrong. I was so wrong.” His words spilled faster, unraveling like threads he couldn’t hold together. “And when I saw you again, when I remembered your smile mon ange I knew I couldn’t lose you a second time.”

Haruhi’s throat tightened, her hands curling into fists. Stop calling me that. She wanted to scream it, but the words choked in her chest.

Instead, she said sharply angrily "Go home, Tamaki."

But he didn’t move. His eyes softened, shimmering with unfallen tears. He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the raindrops clinging to his lashes, close enough that his presence pressed heavy into her space.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “Not when you’re right here.”

His hand lifted slowly, deliberately, brushing against her cheek. Haruhi flinched, but he didn’t retreat. His thumb traced lightly over her damp skin, trembling but unbearably familiar.

And that was what broke her.

Because it was familiar. Once upon a time, that same gentle touch had made her feel cherished. Once, she had leaned into it.

“Don’t…” she whispered, her voice shaking. Her resolve wavered. Her eyes blurred with tears she hated.

Tamaki leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “Haruhi,” he murmured, almost begging, “I can’t stop loving you. I never will.”

Her body froze. Her mind screamed Honey’s name, screamed for strength, but her heart the traitorous, aching heart remembered what it felt like to be wanted so desperately.

Her fists trembled against his chest. She should push him. She knew it. She knew it.

But when his lips brushed hers lightly, testing her strength faltered.

And in that fragile second of weakness, Haruhi melted.

his kiss deepened, trembling with urgency, like he was afraid she would vanish if he let go. His hands cradled her face, keeping her still, his warmth searing against her.

Before she realized what was happening, his arms swept her up, lifting her off the floor with a desperate strength.

He carried her like fragile porcelain, steps uneven in his urgency, until he reached the bed. Gently, almost reverently, he lowered her onto the mattress. His blond hair hung damp around his face, his breath ragged as he hovered over her.

Haruhi lay stiff beneath him, her eyes wet, her lips swollen from his kisses. Her mind screamed for her to stop this, to say no, to scream Mitsukuni’s name.

But her voice refused to come.

And when Tamaki’s mouth found hers again fevered, pleading, unrelenting her body betrayed her one last time.

She kissed him back.

Her tears slid silently as his desperate whisper fell against her lips, hot and trembling:

“Mon ange…”

-----
The next morning, Haruhi sat on the tiled floor of her bathroom, the shower scalding against her skin. Steam clouded the air, but she felt no warmth only the burn as she scrubbed her arms, her neck,  over and over, as though water could erase the night before.

Her chest heaved with ragged breaths. Tears blended with the spray until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

She whispered his name Mitsukuni like a prayer, like an apology. Again and again, her lips formed it until they trembled. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

But no matter how many times she whispered it, the ache inside her wouldn’t fade.

When she finally emerged, her body raw and trembling, the apartment felt colder than ever. Her damp hair clung to her face as she shuffled into the living room.

On the coffee table, her phone lit up.

One missed video call.
One unread message.

Her throat closed as she picked it up. The screen glowed with his name Honey.

Her thumb hovered over the notification, her vision blurring. She tapped the message first.

“Did you sleep okay? I’ll call again later. I miss you.”

Her heart broke. The words were simple, but they carried all the warmth she had been starving for. The warmth she had betrayed.

Her hands shook so badly she almost dropped the phone. Her reflection in the black screen between calls looked like a stranger eyes swollen, lips bitten red, skin blotched with shame.

And then, with tears spilling freely, she typed back with trembling fingers

“I love you.”

She pressed send before she could lose her courage. Her whole body trembled as though those three words might shatter her completely.

The screen stayed still, waiting.

Her reflection stared back at her, hollow and broken, whispering the truth she couldn’t bring herself to admit aloud

I love you. And I’ve ruined everything.

Chapter Text

The apartment was too quiet.

Haruhi sat hunched over her desk, pen idle between her fingers, her notes spread open but unread. Silence had never bothered her before; she had grown up with it, carried it like a shield, even found peace in it when the world became too much. But this silence wasn’t peace. It pressed on her chest like a weight she couldn’t shake off.

Mitsukuni had been gone for his Seminar now, away at kyoto, and the nights stretched endlessly without him. The quiet wasn’t solitude anymore it was secrecy. A suffocating reminder that the boy she trusted most in the world loved her without knowing the whole truth.

Her phone buzzed against the desk, the vibration loud in the stillness. She flinched. The screen lit up with his name.

Honey 🍯💛

Her throat tightened. The first time it had buzzed after… that night with Tamaki, she had almost ignored it. Her hand had hovered, cold and guilty, over the glowing screen. But she’d answered anyway. She always answered. Because guilt was heavier than hesitation.

She swiped across, pasting on a smile she didn’t feel.

Mitsukuni’s face filled the screen, framed by the  light of his hotel room. His golden hair was mussed, his cheeks soft, his expression brightening the second he saw her. His small hand lifted in the familiar rhythm of sign.

"Did you eat?"

Haruhi forced her hands steady.
"Yes. You?"

He nodded, tugging a neatly packed bento box into view with boyish pride. She laughed despite herself, a sharp sound that caught in her throat.

The laughter faded when his expression softened, his hands moving slowly, tenderly.

"I miss you, Haru"

Her chest constricted. She smiled wider, lips trembling, and signed back quickly
"I miss you too"

She wanted to mean it. God, she did. But as the words left her fingers, another voice curled around her thoughts like smoke.

“If you don’t love me anymore, why did you kiss me back?”

Tamaki’s voice. Low, aching. Unforgettable.

Her stomach twisted.

Mitsukuni went on signing sweet little questions about her day professors, coffee shops, the cases she was reading for class. She answered automatically, filling the silence with careful details. He laughed silently at her teasing, his cheeks turning pink when she leaned toward the screen and pressed a noisy kiss on it.

On his side, he looked radiant. Soft. Happy. Secure.

On hers, her hands trembled beneath the desk, hidden from the camera, while her teeth bit down hard to hold back the tears.

When the call ended, the apartment plunged back into darkness. Haruhi collapsed onto her futon, her breath unsteady, her eyes fixed on the blank ceiling. Her throat ached with words unsaid.

She clutched the dolphin plush to her chest, the one Mitsukuni bought her at the ocean park.

“I love you, Mitsukuni.”

The words tasted like lies and truth at once. Lies, because she was hiding Tamaki. Truth, because she did love the boy who trusted her with his whole heart.

But each time she said it, she felt smaller.

As if the silence itself whispered back

You’re lying to him. You’re lying to yourself.

-------

The law library was always crowded in the afternoon, filled with students poring over thick tomes and bleary eyed from too much coffee. When Haruhi glanced up and spotted a familiar blond head bent over a casebook two tables away, she blinked, startled. Tamaki Suoh.

Her chest tightened. She ducked her head quickly, pretending not to notice. He didn’t approach her that afternoon. Didn’t say a word. But when she gathered her things and left, she could feel his gaze following her, warm and steady through the aisles of books.

Two days later, she caught him again. This time at the vending machines outside the lecture hall. She fed coins into the slot, pressed the button for canned coffee, and the metallic clang echoed louder than usual.

“Still addicted to that brand, Haruhi?”

Her spine stiffened. His voice was gentler than she remembered, softer around the edges. She turned slowly. Tamaki leaned casually against the opposite machine, his coat draped perfectly over his shoulders, his blue eyes focused on her with quiet intensity.

She swallowed. “Just a habit.”

He smiled not the over the top theatrics she once knew, but a restrained, almost wistful curve of lips. “Some habits never change.”

Before she could reply, a group of students spilled out from the lecture hall, breaking the moment. When she looked back, Tamaki had already walked away, his hands tucked neatly into his pockets.

It kept happening.

At the campus gates, she saw him waiting with an umbrella in hand when the forecast threatened rain. In the library again, he left a neatly written note beside her books: a summary of a case she had struggled with last semester. At the café she frequented, a cup of her favorite blend mysteriously appeared at her table, the barista pointing wordlessly toward the corner where Tamaki sat, pretending to read.

He wasn’t loud anymore. Gone were the flamboyant dramatics that once made him impossible to ignore. Now he was deliberate. Subtle. Relentless.

Like a tide creeping in, wave after wave, until the sand beneath her feet was soaked and unstable.

That evening, her phone buzzed on the desk.

Tamaki 💫

Her stomach clenched.

> Bonsoir, mon ange.
(Good evening, my angel.)

The words glowed on her screen, sweet and dangerous. She stared at them too long, her knuckles whitening around the device. She knew she shouldn’t reply. She shouldn’t even open the thread.

The phone buzzed again. A call this time. His name filled the screen, the soft ringtone echoing in the silence of her apartment.

Haruhi’s breath hitched. She pressed the phone to her ear.

“Tamaki,” she whispered.

“Haruhi…” His voice was warm, heartbreakingly familiar. That French lilt still curled through his words, wrapping around her like velvet. “Ma petite ange… I’ve missed hearing your voice again.”

Her throat closed. She wanted to hang up. To tell him to stop. Instead, her fingers clutched the dolphin plush to her chest the same one Mitsukuni had given her, its fabric already worn soft by her restless hands.

Tamaki’s voice softened, cracking with something raw. “Why do you keep fighting me? If you’ve really let me go… then why did you kiss me back that night? And why did you let things happened between us”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Only silence. The only sound in the room was the muffled brush of her breath against the plush, the pounding of her guilty heart.

“Haruhi…” His tone frayed into pleading. “Don’t lie to yourself. You still love me.”

Tears burned her eyes. She wanted to deny it. She wanted to whisper Mitsukuni’s name, to drown Tamaki’s voice in the memory of soft hands and quiet signs. But nothing came.

When she finally whispered goodbye and ended the call, her hands trembled as if she’d been holding fire.

The phone buzzed again almost instantly. She flinched.

This time, it wasn’t Tamaki.

Honey 🍯💛

Photo Message

A blurry shot of a dessert plate with a doodle in chocolate syrup: a bunny holding a heart.

Her lips trembled.

Then another message

This made me think of you. Sweet and cute. 🐰💛

Her vision blurred with tears. Honey’s words were simple, honest, unadorned. No velvet, no theatrics. Just care. Just him.

And that, more than anything, made her chest ache until it broke.

-----

The library lights dimmed one by one, shutting down the long aisles in pools of shadow. By the time Haruhi packed up her books and stepped outside, Evening had already settled thick over the campus.

Rain fell steadily, soaking the pavement until the world shimmered under the glow of streetlamps. The air was cold and sharp, droplets tapping like impatient fingers against the roof of the library doors.

Haruhi paused at the top of the steps. She hadn’t brought an umbrella. Her shoulders sagged as she muttered to herself, “Of course.” She hugged her books tighter against her chest and braced herself for the pouring rain.

The rain drummed heavy against the pavement, each drop like a heartbeat echoing in her chest.

Tamaki’s umbrella tilted over her head, his blue eyes locked on hers. “You’ll catch a cold like this, Haruhi. You’ve always been careless with yourself.”

Her jaw tightened. “Don’t. Don’t call me that. Don’t follow me anymore.”

He stepped closer, the umbrella shrinking the space between them. “I can’t stop.” His voice was quiet, but fierce. “Not when you look at me like this.”

Her grip tightened on her books. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to erase me,” Tamaki whispered, his free hand trembling at his side. “But you can’t. Because I’m still here. Because part of you still loves me.”

Her throat burned. “You’re wrong.”

He leaned in just enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath in the cold rain.

“Answer me, Haruhi.” His eyes glistened, pleading. “Prove it. Push me away.”

Her chest seized, words catching in her throat. She wanted to scream his name, to shout that she had Mitsukuni, that she had moved on. But her body stayed frozen, every muscle betraying her when

Tamaki’s lips brushed hers light, trembling, testing.

Her books slipped from her arms and hit the ground with a dull thud, and pulled away a little

“I… I can’t,” she whispered  but Tamaki lock his lips against her again

And then she broke.

Her hands clutched his coat, dragging him closer as if she couldn’t breathe without him. The umbrella tilted, spilling rain over their shoulders, but neither moved to fix it.

Tamaki deepened the kiss, desperate, reverent.

Her eyes stung with tears she couldn’t tell from the rain.

When he finally pulled back, their foreheads touched, their breath ragged.

“You can’t keep fighting us,” he murmured. “Not when it’s still there. Not when I can feel it.”

Haruhi’s chest burned. She bent down to gather her wet books with shaking hands, whispering, “This is a mistake.”

But when Tamaki’s hand reached for her again, she didn’t step away.

The apartment was dark when Haruhi stumbled inside, her clothes clinging to her skin like chains. The rain had soaked her through, dripping from her sleeves and pooling at her feet as she dropped her bag by the door.

She set her books on the table, the damp pages curling as water bled into the wood. Each drop felt like a stain, like proof of her weakness.

Her lips still tingled.

She pressed trembling fingers to her mouth, as if she could wipe away the ghost of Tamaki’s kiss. But the ache in her chest lingered, hollow and cruel.

The phone buzzed on the desk. She flinched, her pulse leaping.

Tamaki 💫

Her stomach twisted violently. She wanted to ignore it. She wanted to throw the phone across the room. But her hand reached anyway, trembling.

Mon ange, did you make it home safe? Please tell me you’re not cold.
I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.

Her breath stuttered. His words wrapped around her like velvet, too warm, too heavy. She closed her eyes, clutching the dolphin plush against her chest, desperate for comfort.

The phone buzzed again.

Her chest seized when she saw the name.

Honey 🍯💛

Her thumb hovered over the notification before she opened it.

[Photo Message]
A dolphin shaped bread bun, slightly blurry, his finger pointing at it.

Another message followed.

Did you eat already? Don’t skip dinner, okay? I know you do that when you study too much.
Also… look what I found! A dolphin bread 🐬🍞 It reminded me of you.

Her lips quivered, a sob catching in her throat.

Tamaki’s words had been silk and fire, designed to consume her. Honey’s words were soft, simple, plain. But they struck deeper than any confession because they asked for nothing. They only gave.

Her phone buzzed again, a cruel overlap of worlds.

Tamaki 💫

Don’t ignore me, Haruhi. Please ,
You felt it too. If you don’t love me anymore… why didn’t you push me away?

Her hands shook. The words cut her open. Because he was right. She hadn’t pushed him away.

Her vision blurred with tears. She fumbled, switching back to Honey’s thread. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, trembling with shame.

Slowly, she typed

I miss you.

Her throat closed. She hit send before she could second-guess herself.

The screen glowed back at her, silent, patient. And then, almost as if her guilt needed to prove itself further, her fingers moved again, unsteady.

I love you.

The moment the words left her phone, her heart cracked in two.

Because it was true.
And it was also a lie.

She clutched the dolphin plush tighter, tears spilling hot against the fabric. The rain outside battered the windows, drowning out her sobs, as if the storm itself grieved with her.

---

The apartment was quiet except for the steady patter of rain against the windows. Haruhi had dozed off over her notes, her body heavy with exhaustion, when a soft knock startled her awake.

She blinked, disoriented. Who could it be at this hour?

The knock came again, gentle but insistent.

Her chest tightened with unease as she padded to the door, the dolphin plush slipping from her lap to the floor. She hesitated, her hand on the knob, then slowly pulled it open.

Her heart almost stopped.

Mitsukuni stood there.

His hair was damp from drizzle, his cheeks faintly pink from the night air. He held a small paper bag decorated with a doodle of a dolphin, his expression bright with quiet joy at seeing her.

But Haruhi’s blood ran cold. He’s here already?

Her hand twitched reflexively toward her collar, panic flashing through her mind. The faint mark Tamaki had left was still there. She hadn’t checked the mirror. She wasn’t ready.

“Damn it,” she whispered under her breath.

Mitsukuni didn’t notice her tension. He simply gave her a small wave, smiling shyly, then stepped past her into the apartment. Haruhi’s throat closed as she followed him to the living room, her legs wooden with dread.

He set the paper bag carefully on the table, then turned to her, his hands moving with cheerful ease

I wanted to bring you something before unpacking.

Haruhi forced her lips into a smile, but her body wouldn’t move closer. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

Mitsukuni tilted his head, puzzled by her hesitation, then reached gently for her hand. His palm was warm and small against hers. Without a word, he tugged her toward the couch until she sat beside him.

His eyes searched hers, open and trusting.

What’s wrong? he signed softly, brows creasing.

Her lips trembled. She couldn’t answer. Her hands refused to form words.

He blinked, then signed again, slower this time

Sorry. I should’ve told you I’d be back tonight.

And then, without waiting, he pulled her into his arms.

The embrace undid her.

Her shoulders shook as tears spilled silently, her face pressed into his shoulder. Guilt crashed through her like waves.

Alarm flickered across his features. He leaned back just enough to sign quickly, worry in every movement

Did something happen?

She shook her head too fast, signing weakly with trembling fingers

I just missed you.

Relief softened his face instantly. He wiped her tears with his thumb
.when her cries and guilt disappeared he
kissed her lips gently, sweetly, without demand.

And then his gaze lingered after lovingly. His eyes flickered upward, pausing at the faint red mark just visible on her neck.

Haruhi froze, her body locking.

His hand lifted, tentative, hovering close and touch. His lips curved with innocent concern, and he signed

Mosquito bite?

Her stomach plummeted. She yanked her collar higher, forcing a laugh that cracked in her throat. “Y...Yeah. Must’ve been.” and her hands followed to sign her words.

Mitsukuni accepted it without question. His smile returned, bright and trusting. He reached into the bag, pulling out a dolphin keychain and a few sweets, placing them in her palm.

I thought of you while choosing them, he signed with pride.

Haruhi stared at the little trinket gleaming under the light, her smile shaking, her tears threatening to fall again.

Because his trust was pure.
And she was breaking it.

------
After one day
The teachers’ lounge was quiet, sunlight slipping through the blinds in thin golden stripes. Reiko stretched her shoulders, ready to dive back into grading, when a soft tap on her shoulder drew her attention.

She looked up.

Mitsukuni stood there, smiling warmly, a small paper bag held carefully in both hands. His hair was tied neatly.

He signed slowly, clearly so she could follow.

For you. A souvenir .

Her brows lifted in surprise. “Oh, you didn’t have to" She caught herself, then raised her own hands to sign back, a little awkward but earnest

Thank you. That’s kind of you.

She peeked inside the bag. A small charm from the seminar venue a simple trinket, shaped like a flower pressed into glass. Her chest softened. “It’s beautiful,” she said aloud without thinking, but her eyes were already signing, It’s pretty. The place must’ve been wonderful.

Mitsukuni nodded eagerly, his eyes shining. His fingers moved in brisk, excited signs
Yes! The hall was big. The gardens outside were amazing. I have Many photos.

He pulled out his phone, unlocking it quickly. With childlike pride, he leaned closer, showing her picture after picture the seminar hall decorated with banners, the wide gardens lined with blossoms, snapshots with colleagues. His grin widened with every swipe, his energy radiating like sunlight.

Reiko chuckled softly, responding in signs that felt smoother now
Looks fun. You enjoyed yourself.

Very much, Honey signed back, his smile tender.

And then his thumb slipped.

One swipe too far.

The screen lit up with a different photo.

Not the seminar. Not gardens or professors.

It was Haruhi.

The picture was intimate, clearly taken in a home the warm glow of a lamp, a couch visible in the corner. Haruhi sat cross-legged on the floor, hair falling loose over her shoulders, her face caught in mid laugh. Mitsukuni leaned into the frame beside her, smiling so naturally, so softly, that the affection in his eyes was undeniable.

Reiko froze.

Her hands, still half raised from signing, faltered and dropped slowly to the desk. Her breath caught in her throat.

Mitsukuni, oblivious, swiped quickly back, returning to a shot of the seminar’s banquet table. His expression didn’t change. He continued pointing out details with his free hand
Good food. Many sweets.

Reiko forced herself to nod, to mimic his smile, though her chest had tightened painfully. Her hands trembled slightly as she replied: Looks delicious.

When he finally tucked his phone away, satisfied, Reiko’s heart was still racing.

Her mind replayed the glimpse again and again. Haruhi Fujioka. A law student at the University. In Mitsukuni’s apartment. Not just a colleague’s daughter anymore, not just a familiar face but something more.

Something secret.
And there's the co teacher tap Honey's Shoulder as he faces him and Reiko read their signs.
That teacher want to ask to follow him outside the faculty room and help with his Student.
Honey smiles and nodded and

Mitsukuni gave her a cheerful wave before leaving with a co Sped teacher , his small steps light against the polished floor.

The door clicked shut.

Reiko sat frozen at her desk, the charm he’d given her gleaming faintly in its bag. She traced the glass with her finger, her lips pressed tightly together, the weight of knowledge settling heavy in her chest.

Because now she knew.

And it wasn’t just the seminar’s souvenir she carried. It was his secret.

-----

after a week Reiko hadn’t planned to notice.

She was hurrying across the campus walkway one late afternoon when she spotted them  Tamaki Suoh and Haruhi Fujioka standing too close beneath the branches near the law building. Tamaki leaned down, speaking in that tender, coaxing way of his, while Haruhi’s shoulders tensed, her gaze fixed on the ground. Reiko couldn’t hear their words, but the air between them was charged. Familiar. Dangerous.

The image lodged itself in her chest like a thorn.

And a day later, during their mid afternoon break, she and Mitsukuni sat outside under a covered corner of the campus. They shared snacks in the quiet, away from the staff room and away from any SPED teachers who might notice their hands moving. The air smelled faintly of rain soaked earth.

Mitsukuni opened his custard bun neatly, humming faintly, the picture of calm. His phone sat untouched beside him, and the soft curve of his smile made him look even younger, almost untouched by the heaviness of the world.

Reiko watched him for a long moment, her chest tight. Then she set her drink down, lifted her hands, and signed carefully:

Can I ask you something?

He glanced up, blinking, then smiled and nodded. Always.

Her fingers moved slower this time, reluctant. You and Haruhi… are you really together?

Surprise flickered across his face, followed by a pink flush spreading to his cheeks. He gave a small, almost sheepish smile before signing quickly

Yes. I’m sorry… I know you once told me it was unwise to date a student. But… His hands slowed, his eyes softening. She makes me happy. With her, I feel calm.

Reiko’s heart clenched. Forcing herself to continue, she signed with careful precision

When did Haruhi break up with her ex?

Mitsukuni tilted his head, thoughtful. His reply was steady
One and Half months before we started.

The air seemed to thin around them. Reiko pressed her lips together, remembering Haruhi with Tamaki beneath the trees, the flicker of hesitation in her eyes. The memory burned against the image of the photo she had seen on Mitsukuni’s phone  Haruhi laughing in his apartment, Mitsukuni looking at her as if she was his whole world.

She could tell him everything. She could tell him what she’d seen. But the way he looked at her now calm, open, trusting  she couldn’t bear to shatter it.

Her hands trembled slightly as she forced them into motion.

Mitsukuni… what if… what you’re holding onto isn’t the beginning of her love… but the shadow of someone else’s she hasn’t let go of?

The words struck harder than anything clinical ever could.

His smile wavered, but he shook his head stubbornly. His hands moved with surprising firmness

No. I know she loves me. I feel it.

He pressed a hand against his chest, eyes shining with fragile conviction.

Reiko’s throat tightened. She wanted to believe him. She wanted his certainty to be enough. But the doubt she had planted would not be erased.

She lowered her gaze, guilt heavy in her chest, as Mitsukuni looked down at his snack, his shoulders still but his hands curling slightly in his lap  as though her words had left an invisible bruise.

---
One evening at the room of Haruhi's apartment.
The Blanket  was warm covering them, the steady patter of rain a faint lullaby against the glass. Haruhi lay with Mitsukuni curled into her side, his small frame pressed against her chest like he belonged there. But even in the safety of her arms, she could feel it his stillness.

His golden eyes weren’t closed. They were distant, clouded.

She noticed it. The way his fingers tapped lightly against the blanket, restless. The way his breathing stayed shallow, not the deep rhythm of peace.

Her chest ached. She lifted her hands, gently catching his gaze.

What’s bothering you?

He blinked, startled, as though pulled back into the room. Silence stretched before he signed, slowly, hesitantly

Am I someone you hold… because you couldn’t hold him anymore?

The words hit her like shards of glass.
But also the thought is its true but she suspended that idea and sign.

Where did that came from?

Mitsukuni didn’t stop. His signs grew heavier, words weighted with something darker.

Before you… there was someone else.

Haruhi’s heart stilled, watching the shadow flicker through his eyes.

We were close. We almost married. His chest rose sharply, uneven. But in the end… she left me. She said I was too difficult to love. Because I couldn’t hear her. And find someone who is Hearing and can speak.

Haruhi’s throat tightened. She remembered what Sister Yuki said and the words from Sayuri and the Hiitachin Twins form the Coffee Shop.

His hands curled into fists, then opened again. The next signs were fragile, pleading

I don’t want to be left behind again. I don’t want to be… the quiet place someone hides in until they find their real love.

Tears blurred Haruhi’s vision.

And then his palm pressed firmly against his chest, his gaze locking with hers and sign

You're not going to leave me right?

it shattered her.

Before he could move his hands again, Haruhi crushed her lips against his. The kiss was too hard, too sudden, trembling with desperation. He gasped silently into her mouth, his hands fluttering before clinging to her arms.

She pressed him back into the mattress, her hair falling in a dark curtain around them. Her kisses grew feverish, frantic, her mouth moving down his jaw, his throat, leaving red marks blooming against his pale skin as if she could overwrite every ghost. Including her own.

Mitsukuni shivered beneath her, startled but yielding, his small hands tightening at her waist. His golden eyes widened when she tugged her shirt over her head followed her Bra, the lamplight glancing off her bare skin. Her hands fumbled at his clothes, pulling him closer with shaking insistence.

He let her.

Her lips returned to his, her teeth grazing, her tongue soothing after, each mark she left like a claim or a punishment. His chest heaved soundlessly, his breaths shallow and uneven. She thought, fleetingly, of Tamaki’s mouth at her neck, his whisper in the rain. Why didn’t you push me away? The memory made her find his lips again and  kiss Mitsukuni harder, until her lips stung.

For him, it was wonder. The proof that she wanted him. The proof that she loved him.
For her, it was penance. A desperate attempt to bury the guilt screaming Tamaki’s name in her chest.

The bed creaked softly beneath their tangled bodies, the night air warm, damp with sweat and unspoken truths. Mitsukuni’s touches were hesitant at first, shy, then bolder as he let himself be pulled into her rhythm.

When it finally ended, Mitsukuni curled against her chest, his lips curved in a blissful smile. His eyes were closed, but Haruhi thought she saw the faint shimmer of a tear at the edge of his lashes as though some buried pain had slipped free even in rest.

He lifted his hand weakly, fingers brushing her skin to form a simple sign:

I Love you

Haruhi’s arms locked around him, trembling. She pressed a kiss to his damp hair, whispering what he could never hear

“I’m sorry.”

But he was already drifting into sleep, his smile soft, his trust absolute.

Chapter Text

The faculty room was quieter than usual that afternoon.
Only the faint hum of the air conditioner and the scratch of Reiko’s pen filled the space. The fluorescent light above her desk flickered now and then, tinting the room with brief pulses of gray. Piles of paperwork surrounded her like walls evaluation forms, lesson reports, attendance logs all due before the week ended.

She adjusted her glasses and sighed, rubbing her temple. Her mind drifted away from the numbers and signatures and toward the single framed photo sitting at the edge of her desk.

A small team picture. The SPED department, smiling after the last outreach event.
In the center, Mitsukuni to everyone who knew him stood with a grin so wide it nearly outshone the summer light behind him. His hands had been mid sign, frozen mid gesture, his eyes curved in joy.

Reiko stared at it longer than she meant to. The corners of her lips tugged upward faintly, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“You’re smiling too much lately, Mitsukuni,” she murmured, almost to the photo itself.

The words came out as a half joke, half confession.

Reiko had smiled then genuinely happy for him. Honey had always lived in a quiet world, and for someone like him to find a connection that made him glow like that felt… pure.

But now, weeks later, something about that brightness unsettled her.
It was too constant. Too blinding.
As she remembered the memory of Tamaki Suoh and Haruhi Fujioka standing too close beneath the branches near the law building.

As she looked at the picture again, the thought came uninvited.
What if he’s smiling for the wrong person?.

For days, Reiko tried to shake off the thought.
She buried herself in reports, in checklists, in the steady hum of routine. She told herself that her unease was nothing but overthinking a teacher’s instinct reaching where it didn’t belong.

But the universe, it seemed, had other plans.

On her way to a department meeting one bright afternoon, she passed the courtyard that separated the SPED building from the Law Department. Students lingered under the trees, their chatter floating in the warm air. She would have walked past without a glance except a familiar shade of blond caught her eye.

Tamaki Suoh.

He was standing near the law building, his posture still princely, his coat draped perfectly over his shoulders. Beside him stood Haruhi Fujioka, her head tilted slightly as he spoke. Even from a distance, Reiko could see how naturally they leaned toward each other how familiarity softened the space between them.

Her steps faltered. For a brief second, she almost called out then stopped herself.
None of her business, she reminded herself. Whatever they were talking about, it was between them.

Still, as she walked away, something about that picture stayed with her, the way Tamaki looked at Haruhi as though the world had narrowed down to her alone, and the faint, uncertain smile on Haruhi’s lips that didn’t look like the expression of someone entirely free.

She tried to forget it.

But a few days later, the universe showed her again.

It was afternoon when she crossed the same courtyard,  from the walk between buildings. Students  past, laughter mingling . And there, by the steps of the law building, stood Haruhi again this time with Tamaki’s arm draped around her waist and Haruhi's arm lacing around his shoulder.

it was enough to freeze her in place. The closeness, the way Haruhi didn’t move away immediately, the way Tamaki bent his head toward her it told a story Reiko didn’t want to read.

Her heart began to pound, too loud in her chest.
“No,” she whispered, her voice almost lost under the rain. “Please tell me I’m mistaken.”

She forced herself to keep walking, her shoes splashing through puddles. The air felt heavier, pressing down on her shoulders as if the sky itself wanted to confirm what she feared.

Back in the faculty room, her papers blurred under her gaze. She tried to focus on her grading, but every few minutes, her mind slipped back to that image their silhouettes under the afternoon sun, Haruhi’s stillness, Tamaki’s hand too familiar on her waist.

Reiko pressed a palm over her chest, trying to quiet the ache that had settled there.
She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to think she’d seen it wrong. But the memory wouldn’t fade it replayed like a song she couldn’t turn off.

That night, when she switched off the faculty lights and passed by the team photo on her desk, her eyes lingered again on Honey’s bright smile.
He looked so happy. So sure.

And for the first time, Reiko couldn’t bring herself to smile back.
------

The cafeteria was unusually quiet that day.
Most of the students had already gone, leaving behind only the faint clatter of utensils and the hum of vending machines along the wall. Afternoon light streamed in through the tall windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the gold.

Reiko entered with a tray balanced in her hands, planning a quick lunch before her next class observation. She scanned the room and immediately spotted him.

Mitsukuni sat by the corner table, his small frame half swallowed by the shadows, his golden hair bright against the dull walls. The moment he noticed her, his face lit up.
He lifted his hand and waved enthusiastically.

Reiko couldn’t help but smile back, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. She walked over, setting her tray down across from him.

He greeted her with quick, cheerful signs.
I saved you a seat!

She laughed softly, replying in sign and words both, her tone teasing. “You’re very considerate, Mitsukuni. I should feel honored.”

He grinned wider, then opened his lunch box a neatly arranged bento, so artful it looked like something out of a photo spread. Every dish was carefully shaped rice balls molded into tiny dolphins, omelets cut into hearts, vegetables arranged like blossoms. Even the side dish compartments looked decorated.

Reiko blinked. “That doesn’t look like your usual cooking,” she sign with a faint chuckle. “You’ve gone cute.”

Mitsukuni laughed without sound, shoulders shaking lightly as he signed, Haruhi made it for me.
His eyes shone when he added, She wakes up early for me now.

Something about the way he signed her name the care in it made Reiko’s chest tighten.

She forced a light smile, leaning forward to look at the bento when she look at him she signs“She’s got a good hand. It looks delicious.”
He nodded eagerly, offering her one of the dolphin shaped rice balls with his chopsticks.

Reiko accepted, smiling as she took a small bite. It was perfect the seasoning gentle but thoughtful, the kind of flavor that carried care in every grain of rice.
Too perfect.

She felt it even as she chewed the quiet tremor at the back of her mind, that creeping unease that had been following her for days. The memory of Haruhi standing beneath Tamaki’s arm flickered behind her eyelids, sharp and uninvited.

Mitsukuni was still talking, signing excitedly  about a new teaching method he’d learned for his students and how energetic and cute his students are.
His hands moved quickly, full of energy, his face glowing. He looked blissful. Unburdened.

Reiko smiled and nodded in rhythm with his gestures, but her heart wasn’t keeping up. Every word he signed every small flash of happiness felt like a thread pulling tighter around something she didn’t want to unravel.

When he mentioned Haruhi again how she’d texted him reminders to eat, how she’d scolded him for skipping breakfast Reiko felt the food turn heavy in her throat.

She set her chopsticks down carefully, hiding the tremor in her fingers.
Her smile didn’t falter. But her thoughts whispered darkly behind it

So this is guilt, cooked to perfection.

Mitsukuni looked up from his lunch and smiled at her again, that same open, trusting smile that had always made her feel protective of him.

Reiko forced herself to return it, softer this time, though the edges hurt she signed“You’re lucky, Mitsukuni, “You really are.”

He nodded, eyes bright, oblivious to the storm rising behind hers.

-----

That night, Reiko told herself to let it go.
She wasn’t his Sister, wasn’t his keeper. Mitsukuni was old enough to love who he wanted and Haruhi, despite everything Reiko had seen, might still love him back.

She wanted to believe that.
She really did.

But the universe, stubborn and cruel, refused to let her rest.

It began with small, accidental glimpses the kind that left a person wondering if fate enjoyed playing tricks.

One evening, as she came from the  Bookstore at town , she caught sight of Tamaki again his pale hair catching the dying light like spun gold. He was walking beside Haruhi, a half open umbrella shared between them. They moved close, almost too close, their shadows overlapping on the pavement.

Reiko slowed her steps, her breath catching.

She turned away quickly, heart pounding, telling herself she hadn’t seen enough to judge.
But the image had already taken root the quiet tenderness of that gesture replaying over and over behind her eyes.

Days passed, and the signs multiplied.

A text notification she happened to glimpse on Mitsukuni’s phone during a department meeting bright emojis and a small blue dolphin, followed by the words:
“Did you eat? 🐬🍞”

Harmless. Sweet. Familiar.
And yet, the same style of messages she had once seen on Haruhi’s old posts about Tamaki little inside jokes wrapped in food emojis.

Each clue was another thread pulling tight around her conscience, and Reiko began to feel the weight of it everywhere in her chest, her breath, the back of her neck. It was like carrying a secret she didn’t want, a truth she never asked for.

Her nights grew restless. She would sit at her desk long after midnight, the glow of her laptop painting her face in cold light. Reports sat untouched while her phone buzzed softly beside her. And every time she thought about deleting the photos from her mind, the universe showed her one more thing one more proof that kindness could turn into cruelty when mixed with silence.

“Silence isn’t kindness anymore,” she whispered to herself one night, her voice trembling into the empty room. “It’s cruelty.”
-----

The next afternoon, she started keeping quiet records.
Not because she wanted to expose anyone but because she needed to know she wasn’t imagining things. A photograph here, a note there. Haruhi and Tamaki crossing paths again. The way Haruhi’s gaze lingered for a second too long.

And then came the moment that ended her denial.

She hadn’t meant to record anything that day  she’d only been testing her phone’s new lens, standing near the balcony that overlooked the courtyard.

she saw them Haruhi and Tamaki standing beneath a tree.
Their faces were close, the air between them fragile with everything unsaid. And before Reiko could look away, Tamaki leaned in.

The kiss was gentle and it was enough.

Her breath caught, sharp and painful.
The phone in her hand trembled. For a moment, she thought she might drop it.

The world went silent around her , no wind, no footsteps only the steady, unbearable rhythm of her heartbeat in her ears.

“Please…” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please don’t make me see this.”

She lowered her phone, eyes burning, throat tightening until she could barely breathe.

Below, the two figures parted Haruhi stepping back, guilt written in every movement. Tamaki said something Reiko couldn’t hear, something that made Haruhi bow her head before walking away.

Reiko watched until they disappeared around the corner.
Only then did she realize she was crying.

And for the first time since Mitsukuni had told her about Haruhi, Reiko wished she had never asked who made him smile.

-------

The walk to Haruhi’s apartment felt longer than it should have.
Reiko had walked the same path dozens of times before to run errands, to visit colleagues, to meet friends but that evening, every step echoed with hesitation. The air was cool, almost heavy, the kind of dusk that pressed quietly against the skin.

She stood for a moment outside the door, her knuckles hovering over the wood. From inside came the faint sound of a kettle and the rustle of papers. For a second, she considered leaving. She could still turn back, pretend she’d never seen what she’d seen.

But she knocked.

A pause. Then soft footsteps. The door opened, and Haruhi Fujioka appeared, framed by the warm light of her small apartment. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Professor Reiko?”

Reiko managed a small smile. “Good evening, Haruhi. I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Ah, not at all,” Haruhi said quickly, stepping aside. “Please, come in.”

The apartment was modest, organized the way only a student’s home could be books stacked in careful piles, notes pinned along the walls, a half finished cup of tea left cooling on the desk. The faint scent of chamomile filled the air.

Reiko took a seat at the edge of the couch while Haruhi poured her a cup. Her hands were steady, but her eyes betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

Reiko spoke first, her voice calm, careful. “Mitsukuni told me about your relationship.”

Haruhi froze mid motion. The cup clinked lightly against the saucer as she set it down.

“He… did?”

Reiko nodded slowly. “He’s happy, Haruhi. Happier than I’ve ever seen him. You’ve given him something rare. He really loves you, you know. He found a whole world in you.”

Haruhi looked down, fingers twisting in her lap. Her lips curved into a small, nervous smile. “I love him too,” she said softly. “I never thought I’d love anyone this much.”

For a heartbeat, Reiko wanted to believe her. But the image of that kiss,  flashed again in her mind the kind of truth that couldn’t be softened by words.

She set her teacup aside and folded her hands carefully on her knees. “Then tell me, Haruhi…” Reiko’s voice stayed gentle, but the words carried weight. “Tamaki Suoh. I saw him on campus. Has he reached out to you?”

Haruhi’s head snapped up. For a moment, something flickered in her eyes fear, maybe, or guilt but it vanished almost instantly. She gave a small shake of her head. “No. He hasn’t.”

Reiko studied her face. The answer came too quickly, too smoothly. It was the kind of lie that had been rehearsed in silence.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

The room went still. The ticking clock on the wall filled the silence between them.

Reiko took a slow breath, her hand moving almost unconsciously to her bag. When she looked back up, her eyes were calm too calm.

Without a word, she placed her phone on the table and pressed play.

The faint sound of afternoon breeze filled the small room, followed by the two figures under a tree kissing.

Haruhi’s breath caught audibly. She reached for the phone, then stopped halfway, her hand trembling in midair.

“Please....”

Reiko leaned forward, her tone low, trembling but firm. “I didn’t want to believe it. But tell me, Haruhi why?”

Haruhi’s throat worked soundlessly. Tears welled in her eyes, her voice breaking as she whispered, “It’s not it’s not what it looks like. He just he came back, and I.. I didn’t know how to...”

“How to what?” Reiko’s voice rose just slightly. “How to tell him no? Or how to tell Mitsukuni the truth?”

Haruhi’s hands trembled. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I love him. I love Honey.”

Reiko’s jaw tightened. “Then why are you lying to him?”

Haruhi covered her face, shoulders shaking. “Because I can’t stop! I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time Tamaki looks at me, it’s like..like everything comes back. The past, the what ifs”

Reiko’s composure began to crack.
“So you keep both of them? You keep Mitsukuni for comfort and Tamaki for nostalgia?”

“No...please..”

“Then what is it?” Reiko’s voice trembled now, anger laced with something almost like grief. “Why do you hurt the people who love you the most?”

Haruhi’s tears spilled freely. “I can’t choose, Reiko sensei! I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m trying....”

Reiko cut her off sharply, standing now. “You can’t choose because you’re selfish, Haruhi.”

The words struck the air like lightning.
Haruhi’s breath hitched. Her eyes widened, disbelief cutting through the tears.

Reiko stepped closer, her voice lowering, trembling with fury barely held in check.
“You tell yourself you’re kind, that you’re sparing him pain. But you’re not. You’re just afraid. Afraid to lose what makes you feel needed.”

“I....”

“and do you even realize what you’re doing?” Reiko pressed on, her voice raw now. “You meet Tamaki here at the university where Mitsukuni teaches, where he walks every day thinking he’s loved, thinking you’re faithful. Are you not terrified he might see you? Or is that what you want?”

Haruhi’s tears blurred her vision. She shook her head violently. “No, that’s notI would never”

Reiko’s hands trembled as she pointed at her, her tone cutting, every word shaking.
“I can’t believe this. I thought I knew you, Haruhi. But I don’t recognize this person in front of me. I didn’t think you could be this kind of person.”

Haruhi crumpled, pressing both hands against her mouth to keep from sobbing. “Please I know it’s wrong. I know. But I don’t know how to end it without breaking him.”

Reiko’s eyes softened for a moment then hardened again.

“You’re using his trust to make yourself feel less guilty.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Her phone buzzed suddenly an incoming call. She glanced at the screen, then answered briefly, murmuring a few words before hanging up.

When she looked back at Haruhi, her expression had changed. The anger had faded, leaving only exhaustion. “You have to choose .. I know
you’re smart,” she said quietly. “Use your head before you destroy him.”

She rose, gathered her things, and walked to the door. Haruhi didn’t follow just sat there, head bowed, the soft sound of her crying filling the silence.

Reiko hesitated at the doorway, her hand on the knob. The sight of Haruhi crumpled in her own guilt twisted something inside her, but she couldn’t stay.

“I’m sorry,” Reiko whispered. “But someone had to say it.”

Then she stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

The sound of Haruhi’s sobs followed her for a long time before fading into the hum of the city night.

-----

A week passed.

The storm had long faded from the city, but in Reiko’s mind, the thunder hadn’t stopped. Every time she looked at Mitsukuni, she heard it low, distant, relentless.
Yet he seemed brighter than ever.

The morning light spilled through the faculty room’s windows, soft and golden. Honey sat at the edge of the table beside her, neatly folding worksheets into piles, his movements small and steady, a rhythm of quiet joy.

Every now and then, his phone lit up beside him.
A message.
🐬💬 Haruhi.

He’d smile at the screen, cheeks faintly pink, before typing something short in reply. His eyes glowed with the kind of warmth.

And watching him now radiant, confident, so full of life
Reiko almost let herself believe she had done the right thing that night.
Maybe Haruhi had listened.
Maybe the confrontation, as cruel as it had been, had pushed her to choose.
And maybe, finally, she had chosen Mitsukuni.

Reiko wanted to believe that. Needed to.

When the bell rang, she gathered her folders and offered Honey a smile. “You look happy lately,” she signed

He blinked up at her, then nodded with a grin, his hands moving in smooth, gentle signs.
Yes. Haruhi is doing well,She smiles more,she always accompany me to the orphanage and she showing me her world and how she loves me.

Reiko’s heart eased, a small breath of relief leaving her chest.
“Good,” she signed with a smile“That’ good.”

For a fleeting moment, she believed it the image of them together, of Haruhi’s laughter echoing through that quiet apartment. It felt peaceful. Whole.

But peace never lasted.

---

That afternoon, Reiko crossed the university courtyard, folders pressed to her chest, the air thick with the smell of chalk dust and rain soaked leaves.
The campus was quieter than usual most students had already gone home.

She passed the Law building almost by instinct, her steps slowing as she approached the familiar glass doors. She told herself she wasn’t looking for anything just passing through, just coincidence.

Then she heard it.
A low, soft laugh. A man’s voice murmuring something too gentle to belong to a stranger.

Her breath caught.

Through the narrow window of one of the classrooms, she saw them.

Haruhi sat beside Tamaki near the back row, the late sunlight catching on her loose hair. The world outside that glass seemed almost unreal bathed in gold, suspended in stillness.

Tamaki said something his tone low, tender. Haruhi’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, and before Reiko could blink, Haruhi leaned sideways until her head rested lightly against his shoulder.

The sight was small, intimate, and devastating.

Reiko’s fingers went numb around the folders she held. Papers slipped loose, fluttering to the floor like falling petals. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

For a heartbeat, she thought she had imagined it. That maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. But no Haruhi’s hand was there, gently holding Tamaki’s hand her expression soft in a way that needed no translation.

Reiko’s pulse thundered.

She took a slow, shaky step backward, careful not to make a sound. The glass reflected her face faintly wide eyes, pale skin, disbelief etched into every line.

Haruhi didn’t see her. Neither did Tamaki.
And maybe that was mercy.

When Reiko finally turned away, her vision swam. Each step down the corridor felt heavier than the last.

Inside her, the fragile hope she had nurtured all week the belief that Haruhi had chosen the right person, that her words had meant something crumbled to ash.

---

She ended up at the faculty lounge, though she couldn’t remember walking there. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. The smell of old coffee and paper filled the air.

Her friend, Professor Mori, looked up from a stack of legal documents as Reiko entered.
“Oh, Reiko,” he greeted warmly, adjusting his glasses. “You’re out of your building today. What brings you here?”

Reiko blinked, her lips parting before sound came out. “I uh, I was nearby. Thought I’d say hello.”

Mori smiled, oblivious to the tremor in her voice. “It’s been ages since we talked. Sit, sit! You look pale are you okay?”

She managed a weak laugh, lowering herself into the seat across from him. Her folders sat untouched beside her.
Her mind was still upstairs behind that glass window, where Haruhi’s head rested on Tamaki Suoh’s shoulder as though it belonged there.

She wanted to believe she was mistaken, that maybe it was something else comfort, nostalgia, anything but what it looked like.
But the ache in her chest whispered the truth she didn’t want to hear.

Haruhi hadn’t listened.
Haruhi hadn’t chosen.

Or worse she had, and Reiko had been wrong about who she truly wanted.

---

By the time Reiko returned to the SPED department, the sun had already sunk below the buildings, leaving the world in a bruised violet glow. Honey was still there, packing up his lesson materials.

He turned when she entered, smiling at her brightly, signing
Reiko! You’re late today. Everything okay?

Her throat constricted. For a second, she almost broke.
But she smiled soft, tired, pretending the world hadn’t just shifted under her feet.

“Everything’s fine,” she Signed. “I just… got caught up.”

And Honey offered her a strawberry milk on a carton while smiling and Reiko signed Thank you before getting it.

When he turned away, Reiko stared at him the boy who believed in love so completely it blinded him and felt the guilt twist like a knife.

The world had shown her the truth again.
And this time, it didn’t feel like protection.
It felt like punishment.

----

The days that followed were a strange kind of calm the kind that only exists before something breaks.

Reiko moved through her routine as if sleepwalking. She graded papers, attended meetings, smiled when spoken to. On the surface, everything appeared unchanged. But inside her chest, guilt had taken root like ivy, climbing higher each day, tightening around her ribs until breathing hurt.

She told herself she’d done enough. She had warned Haruhi. She had confronted her, pleaded with her to stop before everything fell apart.
And yet Haruhi hadn’t listened.

Each time Reiko saw her crossing the courtyard or sitting in the café with her books, that calm mask still perfectly in place, the guilt twisted sharper. Because now Reiko knew that behind that calm was a lie and that lie had a face.

Tamaki Suoh.

The memory of that moment in the Law building refused to fade. The sunlight on Haruhi’s hair. Her head on his shoulder.
That soft, unguarded smile that didn’t belong to guilt it belonged to love.

And it made Reiko feel sick.

---

The following week, Reiko found herself lingering at the SPED wing longer than usual. Honey sat by the window, sketching something in his notebook during his free hour. His brow was furrowed in focus, the afternoon light falling gently on his hair.

He looked… content.
Maybe too content.

When she approached, he glanced up immediately, smiling in greeting.
His hands moved with cheerful ease.
"Reiko! You’re here early"

Reiko saw the Silver Dolphin bracelet on Mitsukuni's wrist and sign 'That’s really beautiful, where did you buy it?'
And Honey smile while signing 'Haruhi gave it to me yesterday.'

She smiled faintly, careful not to let her eyes linger too long. Then she lifted her hands, steady though her pulse thundered beneath her skin
You really care about her, don’t you?

He nodded instantly, his expression open, pure. His hands replied with soft precision
More than anything. She makes me feel safe. Seen. Even when I can’t hear her, I understand her.

Reiko’s throat tightened.
He had no idea.
he trusted her completely too. That if she said Haruhi was in danger, he would believe her. If she told him a truth he didn’t want, he’d listen because she’d earned that faith.

And that was what broke her most.

Because the truth wasn’t hers to tell. But the silence was killing her.

---

That night, Reiko stayed late in the empty faculty room, her papers untouched, her thoughts looping endlessly.

If she said nothing, Honey would go on smiling, loving, unaware only to one day find out on his own.
If she said something, she’d destroy him now.

But if he saw it… if he saw it himself it wouldn’t be betrayal. It would be reality. Something undeniable.

A terrible clarity crept into her mind.
She didn’t need to tell him anything.
She only needed to let the world show him what she had seen.

That way, she could call it mercy.

---

Two days later, she set her plan into quiet motion.

She signed to Honey during lunch break, her tone light
There’s a new café opening near the Law building. Want to walk there after class?

He brightened immediately, nodding, his grin wide then signed

"Yes! I’ve heard of it!"

“Good,”smiling. “Let’s go tomorrow.”signed

Her chest felt heavy

---

The next afternoon was crisp, the air smelling faintly of autumn and roasted coffee. The university lawns glowed with late sunlight as students drifted toward the gates.

Reiko and Honey walked side by side .The sound of students echoed faintly laughter, shuffling footsteps, the clatter of doors.

Honey carried a small paper bag, a box of sweets he’d planned to give Haruhi after their study session later. His steps were light, innocent.

Reiko matched his pace, her gaze fixed forward. Her hands trembled slightly inside her coat pockets.
She had timed it carefully she knew Tamaki often waited for Haruhi near the side entrance at this hour.

Every step felt like crossing a moral line she couldn’t redraw.
They turned the corner just as the afternoon light hit the courtyard.

Haruhi stood near the old stone steps of the Law building, her hair catching faint streaks of gold. Tamaki was beside her, half leaning against the railing, his voice low and warm. the scene carried a kind of intimacy Reiko couldn’t unsee one built not from touch, but from familiarity, from years of unfinished conversations.

Reiko slowed her steps deliberately, her pulse unsteady. She signed to Honey with an almost casual gesture

"Isn’t that Tamaki Suoh? He’s back, right? From France?"

Honey followed her gaze. The moment he saw them, his entire body went still.

Tamaki leaned slightly closer to Haruhi, saying something soft that made her lips curve not the polite, professional smile she wore on campus, but something gentler.
Then his hand lifted, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

Reiko felt the tension beside her before she saw it the way Honey’s hand stilled midair, the paper bag in his grasp trembling faintly. His eyes, bright moments ago, darkened, confusion spilling into them like ink into water.

He turned to her, his brows drawn, and signed slowly

"Haruhi didn’t tell me Tamaki is back."

Reiko’s throat tightened. Her hands hesitated before answering, every movement measured.
Maybe she didn’t think it mattered, she signed, her motions smaller now, careful.

"They might just be… friends."

Honey stared at her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then his hands moved again, slower this time, uncertain

"Friends don’t look like that."

That single phrase broke something inside her.

She couldn’t answer. She only nodded faintly, as though conceding to a truth she’d tried too long to soften.

Then, as if drawn by instinct, Haruhi looked up.

Her eyes met Reiko’s through the space between them a second of pure stillness, the world narrowing to that line of sight.

Haruhi’s face shifted surprise first, then dread, and finally realization. Her lips parted slightly, no sound escaping, but her expression said everything.

You let him see.

Reiko didn’t move. Her body was ice, her heartbeat an echo in her throat.

She didn’t look away, not immediately. Her gaze held Haruhi’s for just long enough to say what she couldn’t sign

I warned you.

Then she turned, placing a light hand on Honey’s arm and guiding him gently forward.

“Come on,” she signed, “Let’s go.”

Honey followed without protest, his eyes clouded and distant, one last glance flickering over his shoulder before they turned the corner.

Behind them, Haruhi remained frozen where she stood, Tamaki’s voice dimming to background noise. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, louder than any sound in the courtyard.

---

At the café, the world was muted.
Honey sat across from Reiko, motionless, his fingers resting on the table beside the unopened box of sweets. His expression was calm too calm but his eyes held the quiet chaos of someone piecing together a truth he didn’t want to understand.

She wanted to say she was sorry, that she hadn’t meant for him to hurt like this. But even that would’ve been another lie.

Because deep down, she had meant for him to see.

She had called it mercy.
But watching him now silent, distant, no longer smiling she realized mercy and cruelty often wore the same face.