I have a thing for phobia's apparently...o.0....Un, couldn't help it. Especially after my first Ouran fic, The Almost Kiss, delt with a phobia. However, I wasn;t as foreward with this one--not a phobia of kissing, this on of rain. Enjoy!!

Singing In The Rain

Pluviophobia

-fear of being rained on-

Drip…drop…drip…drop…drip…swush…

His eyes darted up from the computer screen and glued themselves to the glass window panes, or more of, the small jeweled droplets of water that gathered there and ran together as if part of one large ballet gone slip-'n-slide. Pupils contracted, and lungs seemed to shrink. The moisture that suddenly appeared in the air made it increasingly harder to breath, causing his heart to beat faster and faster. Legs felt weak, unsurpporting and childish; arms heavy and leaden; head spinning and foggy.

"Oh," came a voice from directly behind his head. A familiar voice that either had two meanings, two personalities and one voice. "It's raining…I hope we all remembered umbrellas…"

"Yes," he agreed calmly. "That's an excellent theory, there."

"It wasn't a theory, Kyouya-senpai," the Hitachiin corrected shamelessly. "I just hope that none of us will get wet…Please don't aver analyze my words."

It's a theory, the brunette though gravely as his laptop powered down steadily, and the light breathing of whichever one of the twins (instinct told him it was Kaoru) behind him continued to sound at regular intervals. Only a personal one. My theory that you are either exceedingly boring or in-depth to choose the weather as your conversation launcher…

-

…drip…drip…drip…

"Kyouya?" He ignored the voice, watching the window and unconsciously twirling the wrist loop of his still wet umbrella. Perhaps if he waited long enough, the old woman in dark blue pants and large glasses would give up this endeavor and leave him in peace. It was unlikely: the processes of mental elimination told him there were very few scenarios that would leave him in his own state of mind and thought, and the few which did involve eventual peace were nothing he desired to do.

"Kyouya? Are you ready to talk?"

…drip…drip…drip…drop…

His left eyebrow twitched and onyx eyes tore themselves away from the object of his confinement, attempting to focus on the woman across. When they couldn't, he settled on the colorful mural that seemed to be depicting sunshine and puppies behind her head. "No," was his single word response.

She didn't push it. As far as she knew, there was nothing wrong with the Ootori boy—nothing that plaused the reasons he was seeking her out. He was a good child—excellent grades and always polite and well kempt. However, she often found that it was hard to communicate with him when the pitter-patter of rain drops knocked on the windows.

-

At first, it had always seemed a repressible fear. It wasn't really considered a fear to the youngest Ootori. Rain was such a stupid thing to be afraid on that, to Kyouya, the fiery and icy pin pricks that touched his cheek, nose, forehead, hands and neck had nothing to do with the shiver running up and down his spin like a maniacal freeway chase, nor the sudden clamp around his brain stems that caused him to jerk upright and quickly make for cover. No, that was not fear, simply an insanely strong reflex.

A compulsion, perhaps, to stare at the rain from behind two sheets of glass, one prescription and one element worn. That children's poem, "Rain, rain—go away. Come again another day!" was an all too true analysis of what he wished when the sky cried. The days when the brunette had first heard that saying, he had been young, and would cower if asked to go outside when it poured, or when his maids prompted him to take a shower instead of a bath.

Looking back on those days when fear controlled every action and facial expression or vocalization, shame gripped him as entirely as fear had in past tense. Why react when the thing that plagued his every nightmare was as simple as evaporation and downpour in only a few simple processes? Why be tormented by a natural even that could neither be stopped or weaned off prematurely? The answer was simple.

Because it couldn't be stopped.

-

The rain scenes in movies were incredibly over dramatizes, as well as numerous and annoying. Kyouya hated watching them—hated the thousands of sympathetic pin pricks that were hot on his skin from even just looking at the drenched clothing and sopping hair of the two fantastical characters who would often delve into deep and romantic kisses in the wetness. He hated the stars that these movies received, and would vengefully review on the rain scenes under assumed names. He hated the sighs of longing that the girls would echo if ever he attended a theater where they played such a dramatized romantic movie. And most of all, he hated the way that people would look at him if he stood to exit the room during such scenes.

One such occasion had proved both humiliating and astonishing. The entirety of the Host Club was gathered in the a admittedly small theater of the second Suoh mansion, the twins dominating the three person sofa with Haruhi in the middle, leaving Kyouya and Tamaki to lounge on the floor with their backs pressed against the side of the couch where there was a lack of legs and the seniors to lay on their stomachs, a head lower than the other two. It was a comfortable setting—one of familiarity and intimacy. It was warm and relaxed.

Until that particular scene. The one in the rain—where the heroin ran after her hero as thunder clouds rumbled overhead. He saw it coming before it did, a remarkable feat considering he'd never heard of nor seen this particular film before. Kyouya's back stiffened slightly against the plush seat cushions of the sofa, and behind him, he felt one of the first years twitch and shift positions.

And sure enough, soon the two were kissing; ravaging each other's mouths with a passion that could not be limited to only in front of the camera, and Kyouya felt something twist and turn in his stomach, and the sensation to vomit overwhelmed him drastically. The Ootori bucked automatically, and successfully covered the action up as a\n attempt to stand. He exited the room, not offering an excuse or a reason for his departure, nor asking where the nearest bathroom was—he already knew.

Five eyes trained themselves on the straight, departing back—the sixth of which had been watching since the beginning, darting to look at the other ones before he, too, stood and swept from the room—following the sounds of pounding footsteps, then the slamming of a door and the rushing of water from the spigot. He gave no reason, either.

-

"Kyouya?" he called through the wooden door. He thrummed white and slender knuckles upon the surface before pressing his ear to the door and listened. There was the rush of water, but nothing else. "Kyouya?" Kaoru called again, wrapping spindly fingers over the handle of the door and twisting. It opened without resistance.

There was no demeanor position that the brunette claimed in that beautifully tiled room. He stood before the sink, noticing the spray of water that bounced from the porclien basin and landed on his sleeves, nor the entrance of the younger boy. He was staring, transfixed, and blankly at his mirror images own eyes, gnawing at his lower lip relentlessly.

Kaoru opened his mouth to call his upperclassman's name again, but couldn't bring himself to. What had managed to make this serene figure weak enough to lose all emotional masks and settle for the blank slated one? It was…creepy, to say the least.

With a small flash of pale fingers, the water tap was relented, and then finally receded to a steady drip…drip…drip… And then, right before he turned to the side to face the other, Kyouya murmured lowly, "How long were you planning on entering unannounced?"

"Not very long… I lost track of time," he responded, automatically. "Uh, are you alright, senpai? You don't look that good."

A hand was waved shakily. "I am fine, Kaoru…Or are you Hikaru?"

The red head shrugged. "Does it matter? I don't see how it should—this isn't just another round of the game. It's just me asking if you are alright."

There was a dry chuckle and the glint of the overhead lamp on his glasses. The Ootori turned and wiped his already dry hands on a bathroom towel, all the while, gazing at the Hitachiin. "So you're Kaoru, then. Good to know…"

Any other time, he would have speculated how the Shadow King knew for certain, but this time, the questions seemed very repugnant and repetitive. "Yeah, sure—whatever. But that doesn't mater. I only followed you because I wanted to know what was wrong. Why'd you leave? The movie was getting good, sure, but it wasn't that sexual."

Kyouya snorted in distaste. "As you very well saw, I did not consider that movie sexual in the slightest. If you must know, I simply find those particular scenes boring and obtuse. Why would anyone enjoy prancing about in the cold and wet rain?" And with that, he paced towards the door, brushing bodily past the Hitachiin, murmuring that the movie should be over by now, and pausing just outside to door to grapple at the Hitachiin's wrist and drag the unresisting boy back to the room where the others were.

-

Perhaps…it was possible that the younger of the Hitachiins figured it out. He was, after all, a smart boy… But no. There was no chance of that.

-

Kyouya was happy that day when Tamaki left for France with Éclair. It had not been a happy day—it had been a horrible, nerve racking day and every fiber of his being wanted to yell, scream, and thrash around, dragging the blond back by his hair and throw him in the closet that was the Third Music Room, locking him in and to never let him out—but it had not been raining.

The droplets had been what stopped him from searching for Hikaru and Haruhi at the pension. He had assured the others that it would be okay and that Hikaru would—as some of the others said—go after the commoner, and he who had insisted they wait until early morning, when the rain let up, that they would go looking for the pair. Perhaps they believed it because he was always so rational, for there was no doubt.

-

It ended that day, when the Ootori chauffeur was late, and the umbrella absent. Water pitter-pattered on the various roofs of the school building, including the covered overhand that incased the front doors of the Ouran Academy, overlooking the front drive around and small, marble courtyard where students would often linger and wait to be retrieved.

Kyouya leaned with what appeared to be a casual stance against a pillar, watching the moisture splash into larger puddles on the ground. He wished that his driver would arrive sooner rather than later, and sooner being now. The lonesome nature of the empty courtyard was bothersome, suffocating and allover murderous. The rain must cease.

"Kyouya?" someone asked behind him as the doors burst open and a flash or purple, black and light purple brushed through the frame and just about collided with the stone figure. "Oh, I'm sorry!" he gushed as books and papers spilled over his folded arms and onto the tiled floor, billowing everywhere and landing with loud thumps and smacks.

"It's quite alright," he said coolly, watching as Kaoru descended upon his knees to pick up the items before he himself, bent his knees to help, gathering the scattered papers in front of him, leaving those who had the nerve to flutter out of the shelter and now sat, turning to general mush, in the downpour rain. "Here," he offered the pages towards the red head, face impassive.

He accepted them with a casual thank you and standing up and attempting to shove the mess into his day pack. The task failed, and thus disheartened, Kaoru turned his gaze towards the brunette with both annoyance at his materials and curiosity. "What are you doing out here, senpai? Where's your driver?"

"Obviously late," he offered back indifferently, and huffing, causing a small puff of steam to curl out of his mouth in a long tendril. "And you?"

"Hikaru got detention in Biology for passing notes with me and texting Haruhi in the middle of class," Kaoru explained. "I called out driver and told him that he could come to get us later. I decided to stay with Hikaru."

"Pleasant of you," the Shadow King atoned.

There was silence, save the beating of tiny drums that was the rain and roof. Kaoru shuffled his feet with disquiet and Kyouya stood completely still, gazing out into the world, yet not focusing on it in general. He stared, barely noticing when the Hitachiin took a hesitant step closer and placed a hand on his shoulder, tugging gently at the fabric, and succeeding in gaining his attention.

"Are you staring at the rain?" he asked casually, also sparing the act of nature a glance. "Is that what's bugging you today?"

Not shock. No, defiantly barely—if even—surprise, but not shock that the younger of the twins had figured it out. No, perhaps it was a coincidence, and either way, it could be simply passed off as a sour mood in the moist atmosphere.

"Commoners say that they get blue when it rains," he offered. "I, however, do not. I just dislike getting wet for no reason other than my chauffeur is late."

Something in the Hitachiins face red disquiet, but he said nothing. Kyouya continued to glare moodily out into the world, ignoring the other member of the club before he heard a sound that rivaled Tamaki entering a room at full pelt. Blinking, the brunette turned to see an umbrella being unfurled and shaken to ensure that it had reached full capacity.

"Here," and the holy shield was proffered, then shoved into his hands. "I don't need one today."

"It's raining, Kaoru. Why wouldn't you need your umbrella?"

"Hikaru's got his, and we always share, anyways. Plus, I have more like that one at home."

"As do I. Why would I need yours?"

A wry and knowing smile, as well as a kind twinkle in the amber eyes. "I like you, Kyouya-senpai. I like everyone, but you're less hyperactive than milord, so I don't mind showing it. I just wanted to help you. After all, you don't have one today, though."

And he was right. "No thank you," he denied as his limo finally appeared and, holding some disposable file over his head, Kyouya entered the earthly shower and soon, the safety of the inside of his car, barely noticing as Kaoru, himself, danced out in the rain under his umbrella and waved.

-

Kyouya had no idea what had caused him such a rage. He had only felt this mad thrice in his life, and the last time had been almost three years ago, when he had met a certain French and Japanese blond who had the ridiculous notion that he had given up. And this was a feeling he hated. It was one that he had made sure to suppress any way he could, and there had been many times when he had almost succumbed to the desire to rant and yell, but never actually found himself engulfed in the fires or anger.

But today…today was different. And it did not lighten his mood that it was raining.

"Kyouya?" Tamaki asks, recognizing the danger signs his best friend was emitting and treading carefully so as to not step on any buttons that would cause an explosion. "Kyouya…would you like some tea?"

His eyes darted maniacally at the blond before he opened his mouth and snapped, "No." Like he must had when woken up too early.

"A-are you sure?" By now, his enquiring had attracted the attention of all the hosts, all doing various tasks of cleaning after the Host Club had ended. Haruhi was watching suspiciously from a spot near the door, her tasks for the day already done. Hunny paused in depleting the left over cake supply, looking nervously at his cousin and the Shadow King at random intervals. The twins…well, one of them kept attempting to stand and the other refused to let go and allow his twin to get himself killed, murmuring, "Let milord do it!" but to no avail.

Already narrowed eyes made themselves slits of displeasure and he sneered in a dark expression. "Get away from me," he growled out, and as Tamaki hurriedly backed away, Kyouya stood and gathered his backpack, closing his laptop without saving any of the files he'd been working on and sweeping towards the door. "I'm leaving."

Haruhi hurriedly darted to the twins, resulting in one who continued to attempt to get away breaking free as his brother was distracted by the commoner. Tamaki cowered, moving behind Mori and Hunny, the shorter of the two who was also cowering. The door banged open and bounced off the wall, almost hitting the red headed boy who ran after him in the face, causing him to twist oddly and attempt to call out after his upperclassman and cause him to pause.

Racing down the three stair cases that separated the third music room from the ground, Kaoru felt his lungs compressing and decompression with something more than the desire to breathe; moreover, the general want and need to know what was troubling the brunette so much as for him to react this way. He huffed, attempting to call after Kyouya and make him stop. It would be easier to ask this way, but low be life to make it any easier. And thus, he raced, attempting not to trip and also go as fast as he possibly could.

By the time he had reached the courtyard that doubled as a driveway, Kyouya appeared to have the time to think about what he was doing and step out into the rain splattered sidewalk, his back turned to the doorway so the Hitachiin could not see how he flinched every time the rain hit his shirt and soaked through to his skin. He let out a low moan that was lost in the slapping of shoe souls on the pavement.

"K-Kyouya, what are you doing?" an incredulous and out of breath voice demanded, the owner bent double and panting. "It's raining! You'll get wet. Here." He always did seem to have an umbrella.

"I don't want it," the brunette teenager growled out.

"But, you're getting rained on. Come on, no one likes that." There was the sound of an umbrella being opened and as he closed his eyes, Kyouya felt the rain stop dropping onto his face.

With a snarl and a sort of half strangled scream of surprise, the protective item fell will a clatter to the marble and was soon swept several yards away from the pair by the wind that licked at their soggy locks of hair with a passion. Numb fingers found their way to his mouth, and the red head sucked on his fingertips, staring in amazement at his upperclassman and paying no heed to the rain at all.

"I…I thought you hated rain…" he mumbled, voice nearly lost in the wind, but from the returned shrug, he was sure that Kyouya had heard him. Bold, confused and somewhat defiant, Kaoru suddenly yelled, "What was that for!?! I'm trying to help you!"

"I don't need your help!" was the response the wind carried back to him, both the chill and tone biting his face.

"That's the beauty of helping a friend—they don't always have to want it, but sometimes other people do know what's best for you, senpai! Now, come on! Don't just stand there, you'll catch a cold, you know. Please!" His cheeks were tinged and the red head lowered his hand from his mouth so as to reach out for the taller boy. Before still numb and now flushed fingertips could reach the cloth of his shoulders, they were withdrawn and water flew from the older boys face as he whirled around to glare at the younger.

"What gives you the right to order me about," Kaoru couldn't help but remember the time they had woken up the Ootori two hours early. There was the same fire and anger in his eyes this time as before, only this time it was him who'd put it there, not Tamaki. "And why do you even want to help me. I don't remember our families being that close, Kaoru."

"Don't you understand? I was being obvious. I like you, remember? I told you that I did, and I don't think it's fair of you to ask me for a better reason, mainly because I don't think I could come up with a better one." It was now impossible to discern between the rain and tears. "I don't even know why I do, but I can't help it. It's not like I was ever going to say anything, but I couldn't very well sit on the side while you tortured yourself those times—and the only think I could think of was to give you and umbrella." He laughed bitterly. "And both times, you didn't accept it."

He was not at a lose of words, but simply could not think of an appropriate thing to say to interrupt the Hitachiin's tirade. This had, literally, come out of no where and was shocking. However, as Kaoru finally did stop talking, giving over to harsh breathing and imploring eyes, he could not avoid it. "Like is not a strong enough word for you to justify your harassing me. Good intentions or not."

"Why the hell not?!" Kaoru demanded again, shaking his head to rid his eyes of water and rubbing them to relive them of the plague of tears. "Don't you like me?"

"Not in the same way you're talking about."

"Than how the hell do you justify knowing that I'm Kaoru. You didn't even ask this time!" And his head was bowed, silent sobs and indistinguishable tears flowing down his face. "If it's not a strong enough word for you, than you must be a pretty powerful man, senpai. It was powerful enough for me to ruin my uniform and hair… And but several dozen umbrellas, just in case."

Kyouya could do nothing but stare—cool and calculating eyes obscured by a veil of rain. What was he supposed to say to that? It had, indeed, shown just how much he meant to Kaoru—the fact that a Hitachiin was willing to ruin good clothing was an unheard of emotion for the family, and one that certainly meant a lot more than like. The umbrellas were just another feature, as was the way he so easily succumbed to what some might call "real" tears in front of him.

And they were so close. It must have meant something, after all, that he had known for a fact that it wasn't Hikaru.

"If you don't, that's fine…" Kaoru mumbled. "I can live with that… I've done it before…" and he made to sink to his knees, almost entirely distraught. A firm hand just above his elbow and a swift yank upwards put a stop to that, however, and soon enough, he was one his feet, spluttering and blinking at Kyouya. He had just been rejected! Was the Shadow King the type of person who would hit the person he had just denied?

No.

No, whatever it was, this was not denial. This was a hundred times better. This was sweeter than both denial and revenge. This was better than those staged kissing scenes in the rain. This was kissing without feeling the rain. And this was not being rejected.

Their tongues danced for a while against the others lips before finally touching and almost immediately withdrawing as they broke apart. Kaoru probably would have jumped backwards, had his hands now been fisted in his upperclassman's jacket, partially freezing him there and causing gravity and force to work against them both and pull their bodies flush against each other again. But there was no kiss this time.

"Kyouya…Kyouya, are you crying?" Kaoru breathed, unclenching his hand and attempting to remove the others glasses. He couldn't see the eyes. But another hand batted those ones away and shoved the spectacles more securely up the bridge of his nose.

Giving up on the eyes, the red head locked his arms around the brunette's waist and pressed his face firmly in the nook of the other's neck, feeling the normally soft fabric turned sticky and rough in the rain tickling his chin, and not minding in the slightest. This, this overrated kiss scene, was possibly the sweetest thing they had both ever experienced, and one that they wanted to savor; and soon enough, he felt another set of arms wrap around his shoulders and stay there.

-

Two months later, the doors of Ootori estate were closed, and inside them, seven teenagers relaxed after their quarterly exams. Three of them, a brunette, a red head and a blond, reside closest to the fire place, both the boys obsession over the sunflower dress that their friend was actually wearing and commenting on how nice it looked on her. Two others, a blond and a brunette, were seated quite contently, the blond playing with his stuffed rabbit and his cousin watching contentedly. The fifth was off to the side, his eyes watching the others contemplatively as his hands held his place in a novel and his glasses slipped ever so slightly down his nose. He could have smiled, but the picture was not yet complete.

There was a whooshing sound from the door way that successfully attracted the attention of everyone in the room. There, in the doorway stood Kaoru, clad in a large yellow rain jacket that looked fitted and matching rain boots that seemed to have heels and went up to his knees. There was also a large sun hat, turned rain resistant, and to top it all off, a large yellow umbrella. Everyone gaped at him, but he had amber eyes for only one.

"Kyouya!" he sang. "Let's go for a walk!"

"Now, Kaoru?" the Shadow King asked, glancing outside the window. "It's raining."

"I know!" he exclaimed excitedly, spinning around to show off his outfit and smiling so widely that it must have hurt his face. "That's why I'm dressed this way. If it'd make you feel better, I've got an outfit like this for you, too. It's green!"

Eyes darted towards the brunette, all waiting for his answer with apprehension. They were, as of yet, unsure of how he'd react, and Hikaru readied himself to rugby tackle the Ootori if he attacked his brother. However, the reaction they did get was shocking to say the least.

"Alright," he submitted, a smile playing around his own mouth as he put down his book and made his way towards Kaoru, who turned as well and headed towards the back door. "Once around the garden?"

"Unless we get side tracked," heavily provocative words responded.

"I doubt we will."

"Kyouya…"

"Hm?"

"I'm not wearing…much…under this outfit…"

Yeah, yeah. A happy ending. Couldn't help it. Implied smut. Blah, blah, blah! Enjoy it? Please review!!