My Type

Author's Disclaimer: No, I don't own OHSHC. All rights go to their respective owners. This story is inspired by the song "My Type" by Saint Motel, an excellent song. This story is dedicated to my sister (whose birthday is on Halloween), who was listening to this song with me and thought that this would be a good song for KyoHaru. I could not agree more. This should have been posted before Halloween, but it was crazy busy for me, so consider it a late Halloween treat. I hope you enjoy!

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"Haruhi, will you go to this year's Halloween Masquerade Ball with me, please?"

Haruhi looked up from her book, debating on how to answer Tamaki and his pleading look as he knelt in front of her, holding his breath.

"Please, Haruhi? You went with Mori last year, and your costume opportunity was squandered! Why switch outfits, when you can dress as anyone or anything, and fool everyone?"

Haruhi wrinkled her brow at Tamaki's comment as he danced about, his inner mind theater showing him how much fun wearing a mask could be, with many a blushing maiden.

Calmly, Haruhi replied, "We both enjoyed ourselves. Neither of us wanted to look all that ridiculous, and I've always wanted to know what it felt like to be a judge. Mori was good-natured about wearing my skirt suit, so I'm content. If you're going to force me to-"

Tamaki was quick to kneel again in front of Haruhi, puppy-dog eyes in place.

"But we haven't done anything in forever! Is this how you treat your good friend and former boyfriend?"

Haruhi hmphed before going back to her book, shaking her head with indulgence at Tamaki's dramatic antics, seeing as they had hung out last week. But, Tamaki continued to stare at her, and when it became clear that he was not leaving until they had planned something together, she spoke with a smile. She was "expected" to go by her firm, which was why she had gone the year before with Mori, so that she was not left alone, surrounded by matchmakers and interested men.

"Alright, Tamaki-"

"Yes! You're going to be beautiful! You'll be the most beautiful fairy princess ever-"

Tamaki got up and twirled about like a child in a wheeled office chair, whooping for joy. He was trying hard to not crush Haruhi, as she was still wearing her office attire, and he knew how much she hated having to iron it again (having been forced to iron it on a few occasions himself).

"No, Tamaki. Let me finish," said Haruhi, placing a hand on Tamaki to calm him down. Tamaki slumped to the ground, giving Haruhi his most confused glance.

"First, you don't choose my outfit. We choose together," continued Haruhi, getting up from her seat and looking down upon Tamaki. She was trying to look imperious and challenging, anything to not be put in some fanciful concoction of a dress that would embarrass her, or make it impossible for her to walk.

"That's fine," said Tamaki excitedly as he clapped his hands and got up to walk in circles. "But you're wearing a dress. We'll be proper. How about pink?"

After much debate about the color and type of dress to wear, the two parted ways for the night with some questions still to answer. But, it allowed Haruhi to tell the twins that she would not be going with them, as they had been hinting at wanting to go and take her together. The way their eyes twinkled told her that they had some nefarious plans for things to do and people to prank once they arrived, and she did not want to get kicked out because of them.

A few weeks later, Haruhi and Tamaki agreed upon swans, as Tamaki had seen some swans outside one of his hotels. They were graceful, just like him. He wanted them both to go in white, but Haruhi was afraid of spilling something, so she chose to go as a black swan. Tamaki agreed when he found the perfect dress and outfit for her to wear. The mask had sold Haruhi when she saw it.

Both Mori and Kyoya had been invited to the masquerade, but Mori chose that year to spend it with his cousin, who decided at the last minute to throw a party, as his wife Reiko got a little carried away with decorations, making him seek out moral support. Kyoya was supposed to be out of town, so Haruhi was confused when she arrived on the night of the ball, only to find out that Tamaki was not there.

"Tamaki, where are you?" asked Haruhi over the phone in the ante-room.

After much coughing, Tamaki wailed, "Haruhi, I'm sick! I was in my plane, and suddenly, the world turned upside down! I thought the world was ending!"

Tamaki stopped exaggerating to cough, his cough sounding like a cross between a goose call and a bird's cawing. Haruhi said good-bye, knowing that Tamaki was done for the night.

Haruhi sorely wanted to leave the party, but she knew that if her firm found out, she would be in trouble. This was a great way to work on professional development, improving all of her networks. Haruhi did not mind mingling (since she was a natural), but she did not want to talk to any of the men at work who liked her. She did not want to admit it out loud, but she was not interested in any of the men.

But for that matter, what kind of guy was she interested in? Not blonds, nor red-heads. She had tried dating both with no luck. It did not help that both had personalities that did not mesh with hers and interested her the way she wanted. The only conclusion she had come to was that she was interested in someone with darker hair.

Haruhi took a look around the room as she entered, trying to pinpoint people she knew from work. She might as well prove her existence so that the night was not a complete waste. She knew eighty percent of the people there, so it would not be hard to find someone to talk to, or so she thought.

Haruhi looked at the few she did not know with ease, until she came across one with a white mask. The mask highlighted the blackness of his eyes, and she made eye contact with him by accident, intrigued by the emotion contained in his eyes. Love may come in disguises, but she was not like Tamaki, ready to pursue at once. She did not even know if she had a type, a shape and size to look for, and she did not want to interact with those eyes, especially if she worked with him. She quickly turned away and made her way toward a fellow coworker, only for no one in his group to recognize her, even him.

Not that that was altogether surprising, given the outfit she wore. As with any high society event, the main point was to see and be seen, especially at parties like this. Everyone wore bright, flashy things to show off.

And yet, Haruhi had entered, wearing a long black ballroom gown, devoid of decoration other than the black feathers that edged the entirety of the dress. That was odd, but what captured their interest, especially the man in the white mask – none other than Kyoya Ootori - was the mask that Haruhi wore. The mask did not twinkle or blind with gaudiness, but instead, it was covered in black feathers, shaped like a swan's head. The silky sheen of the feathers had been captured so that the swan could live in a seat of eternal jealousy in others' minds, and paired with the milky white of Haruhi's face, it was a perfect complement.

When Haruhi smiled, her smile and open, honest eyes made everyone want to look at her, especially Kyoya. The problem was that he did not recognize her, and he knew every important girl in town, and every woman on the guest list to boot. It was a simple outfit, but striking, and actually tasteful. There were only a handful of women there who were comfortable enough with themselves to wear such a thing, and he was inclined to want to talk to her, to figure it out. She was a puzzle, and he had a weakness for puzzles.

Kyoya had always had a weakness for puzzles, ever since he was told to rise to the top of the family and overcome the obstacles to be heir. He then befriended Tamaki, the human puzzle. Granted, he soon figured out that Tamaki was just an idiot who happened to have his brilliant moments, but it was Haruhi who had been the mystery for all of their acquaintance. She was oblivious to others' interest in her, but she could read anyone, even him. She saw through his façade, even into his soul at times. She worked with the poor and desperate people, seeing the worst of others, and yet she remained herself, positive and hardworking. She understood him, meshed well with him, and yet, she dated Tamaki, the idiot.

But enough of ancient history, there was still a mystery girl, and he needed to figure her out. Who knew, he might finally find a replacement for Haruhi in his life, which he desperately needed. He had a definite type: the dark-haired, brown-eyed, petite girls with a mind of their own. They were hard to find, but then again, Haruhi was hard to replace. Perhaps coming home early from his trip had been for the best.

Several inquiries later, Kyoya had yet to find someone who recognized her, and a peek at the guest list proved that all invited had arrived, other than Mori and Tamaki. Kyoya knew why they were not in attendance, having had to listen to Tamaki's coughing fits as he begged Kyoya to look out for Haruhi. He had refused to ask what Haruhi wore, as he did not want to go out of his way to seek her out. He would go to her the moment he saw her, of that he had no doubt. He always did. Haruhi was probably in a corner as she tended to do, talking amicably with other lawyers about current cases, in some simple outfit.

With no luck in those avenues, Kyoya began to wonder who had black hair, or if the lady was wearing a wig. As he wondered, he made his way toward her, needing to satisfy his curiosity.

Haruhi was at a loss as to why no one recognized her. Sure, she wore a bigger dress, and had dyed her hair black (she was tired of scratching her head with a wig on), but she had cosplayed so much in the past. The girls always recognized her. What had changed?

As she puzzled, she continued to talk to the lawyers, getting involved in the conversation as the men all were glad to include such a beautiful, intelligent woman in the conversation. No one had seen Haruhi yet, but someone had heard that her date was sick, so she would probably not come. This mystery woman spoke well and so comfortably with them, a welcome change from them feeling inferior around Haruhi and her bluntness.

When Haruhi turned her head slightly, she saw the white mask again, heading her way. Some part of her was happy to see him again, that small connection from when their eyes met a good sign that perhaps, just maybe, she had a chance at figuring out just what kind of man she liked. Dark-haired, yes, but more important was that he had black eyes, full of shadows and mystery. There was always more to such men than what met the eye.

Neither Kyoya nor Haruhi acknowledged one another when Kyoya entered the group, both simply choosing to stand next to one another, comfortable in the knowledge that they had found another similar soul, for reasons that they could not yet explain, other than through that moment of eye contact. Kyoya enjoyed listening to the woman's opinions on different matters.

But even as Kyoya stood there, he felt as though he should know this woman, as she seemed familiar. Her scent was unlike any woman's (especially Haruhi), more fresh and outdoorsy. Yes, that had to be it, a scent so refreshing and suited for a swan. It was not the scent of Haruhi's laundry detergent, something Kyoya was ashamed to know so well from sitting next to her at meetings of friends.

At least that was more honorable sounding than the reason why he knew how Haruhi's hair felt, so fine and smooth, but still able to send shivers through him as the tips touched his palm. That reason had more to do with him wanting to know, and then one day taking advantage of their closeness to touch her hair. After that, he took each opportunity afforded him, for he was nothing but an opportunist. Whether it was to use her head and hands to help him stand up, or to assure her (Hikaru had asked her out, and she had been hesitant), Kyoya knew her hair, and he wanted to know if this woman's could compare, especially since it seemed a little longer than Haruhi's was.

If he were wearing his glasses, Kyoya might pretend to drop his glasses, and use her for support. She seemed the type to want to be helpful, though he would have to validate that conclusion. Alas, wearing a mask made it difficult to wear his ever-useful glasses, so he went without them. Everyone recognized him despite the lack, as he did nothing else to hide his face, seeing as his mask covered the area around his eyes only and little else.

The conversation of the group slowly moved from society news to goings-on in the business world, no doubt because of Kyoya's entrance. He was pleased, but he thought that the woman seemed more hesitant to speak because of it, which was unfortunate. She had a pleasant voice, and she seemed at ease with the men in the group.

There was no way for Kyoya to know that Haruhi's hesitance came partly from the topic, but also from the prickling on the back of her neck that told her that she knew this man, with his dark features and cultured tones. He could have been a host, with how well he spoke and maneuvered the conversation, and that only interested her more in him. Still, the part that intrigued her the most about him was his eyes. Those eyes would occasionally rest on her, as well as everyone else as he spoke, and when those eyes were trained on her, she needed to know who he was. She knew those eyes; she was sure. Eyes that understood her and could comfort her should she need it. Cold eyes at points, and yet they held the same kindness that she saw in certain friends of hers, all of it confusing her so.

One lawyer made an off-hand comment about the place of women in the business world.

"A woman's place is not there. Let her use her talents elsewhere."

Haruhi was surprised to hear such a thing come from someone who had never spoken like that before, but before she could speak, the mystery man spoke.

"Women do have many talents; however, why can't it be in business? I've had the pleasure of meeting many a powerful woman, and they can be serious and inspire fear just as well as any man. Sometimes better," he said, thinking of a certain lady manager who inspired fear in high school for what she could do with her otaku mind.

The man stuttered and tried to backpedal on his comment, flailing with his hands, but Kyoya continued, confidence in the subject allowing him to stand a little taller.

"Too often, I think that we as men sell women short for not recognizing all of their gifts. If we could truly utilize all of them, then the business world would grow," he said, this time thinking of Haruhi and how much he wished that she had gone to business school with him. But, that would never happen, seeing as she had a dream, a dream that she had fully realized and loved. He could never ask her to give up her dream; he could only ask to be a part of it, as she was in his to some degree.

"Unfortunately," said Haruhi as she stepped forward and made eye contact with each man present, "I fear that men and women both suffer from the inability to truly use all of their talents. I wish that all could see all that they're capable of and follow their dreams. I think this world would be much better for it. Excuse me, gentlemen."

Haruhi had enough of the topic, and she was thirsty. Her eyes met the mystery man's last as she left, and she hoped that her thankfulness was apparent in her smile. She made it only a short distance before Kyoya caught up to her.

"I hope that the conversation was not too much for you. Not all men are gentleman in their thoughts and actions," said Kyoya, reaching out an arm in silent inquiry.

Haruhi looked into his eyes, glad to have access to them. The face spoke of indifference, as though he were willing to laugh at the other man, but the eyes said that he was quite serious. She believed that he was truly speaking his mind, even if it was the most correct thing to say at the time.

After a few blinks, Haruhi smiled and took the proffered arm.

"I'm all too aware that not all men are gentlemen, but I'm glad to have found company who is. If only my friends were here, you'd get along well with them, I think. They give me more reasons than anyone else to believe in the goodness of others."

"Friends?" asked Kyoya with immediate interest, all eyes and ears focusing on each minute thing she said and did with her body. How could she know that he was being honest, or who he would get along with? How much did she understand him? She could not know him, as anyone who did would say that he was simply a cold-hearted opportunistic businessman. She continued to surprise him.

"Yes, I've known them for several years now. We've been through so much together, and one was supposed to accompany me tonight," said Haruhi unthinkingly, turning more toward Kyoya as though to converse with him.

"Just a friend?" prompted Kyoya, needing to know about this man that he immediately hated for leaving such a woman alone, but also loved for giving him this opportunity.

Kyoya did not show much interest in women in this society due to gossip columns and the normal treatment he received from women, but she seemed different, the kind he liked. His type. He had learned a long time ago to go after what he wanted, and since he could not have Haruhi (in his thoughts at least), he would find the closest substitute.

Going outside of Japan for business had helped him in that respect to meet other women, and he had done some dating while in college, trying to forget about Haruhi. His insight had never failed him in business, and it had done a decent job so far with finding women similar to Haruhi, like this mystery woman.

There was no point in fighting this interest; his best bet was to just keep breathing and talk to her. Either way, he won, as she would either show herself to be not worth the time quickly (giving him time to make excuses by the time they reached drinks), or show herself to be worth more effort.

Haruhi was surprised by the masked man's forwardness; perhaps he was not as honorable as he seemed. And yet, even as she stared at his eyes again (she could admit to herself that his eyes were arresting and made her want to stare), double checking for double meanings as to why he might ask that, she could find nothing. There was curiosity, but he was trying to hide the vulnerability in his eyes, the need to know. For that reason, she answered his question.

Within moments of him asking, Haruhi answered, "Just friends. Once we were more, but I realized soon after that we clashed too much and would never work out. I just wasn't interested in him in that way."

Kyoya was relieved to know that she was not dating him, but there were still others that were possibilities. The other problem was that the man had not come tonight: was there a nefarious, underhanded purpose for his not coming?

"I hope he has a good reason tonight for not appearing, as not coming could make it seem-"

"I don't doubt his sincerity in that respect. There's no way he could make it tonight, and I don't hold it against him. He wanted this more than I did, even if I needed him more."

Haruhi realized her bluntness had gotten in the way as she felt the man's grasp tighten on her arm. Why had she said that last part? It was true, and it probably had something to do with the fact that she felt comfortable with him, ever since she had laid eyes on him. If this were anywhere but somewhere where her coworkers thrived in large quantities, then it would not matter that she had said it, but being more circumspect was something that she had been told on several occasions by her elders to try for.

Kyoya found it hard to believe that the woman in front of him who could hold her own in conversation could need any man, making him doubt himself and his choice. But, he continued on, needing to know more. All she said kept drawing him in further, just like Haruhi could, and he did his best to keep his face impassive and free of emotion as he continued to speak.

"Independent women rarely need men in my experience. If you did need something, then may I assist?"

Haruhi's eyes darted to Kyoya's once more, and Kyoya wondered how much she comprehended in those quick glances. Haruhi did not speak right away after that, making Kyoya want to squirm, as though his charm was ineffective. The two continued to walk toward the food table, Kyoya putting up a front for all (or so he thought) while Haruhi debated on how to answer.

At last, Haruhi smiled as her realization came as to why the man seemed so interested in her friends and needs, as she could recall men from work asking similar questions before asking her out. Some part of her was happy to know that he was interested in her, even if she still wanted to know more about him before she made up her mind about him.

After smiling long enough to hopefully put him at ease, she answered, "You're very kind to offer your assistance. You've been nothing but very polite all evening, which I appreciate. I assure you the need I had has been more than satisfied by your presence tonight, as well as by the general behavior of others here. No one seems to recognize me, which is just fine by me. It's nice to be unknown again."

Haruhi enjoyed watching the confusion pass through Kyoya's face for several moments before he schooled his features appropriately, trying not to sound curious as his voice lowered and he led her to the back corner of the food table, away from others.

"Then I'm not the only one who doesn't recognize you? I thought all of the men back there did. I was afraid to offend you, Miss."

"I'm not offended, as I don't recognize you either. We're equal in that respect," said Haruhi with ease.

"Is that the only aspect in which we're equals?" asked Kyoya, trying to figure her out. He pulled away from her a little, trying to gain more clarity. He was getting nowhere with her, and it frustrated him to no end. At least he was right that she did not know who he was. It was a novelty to be treated like another human being sometimes, something he tended to only get from Tamaki and Haruhi.

"I doubt it. I'd say in many respects you have the upper hand based on your family and upbringing, but that's the case with just about everyone here. But if we talked about our interests and friends, I'm sure we'd find other things in common."

She spoke so easily of them having big differences between them, her big eyes guileless and smiling, and yet, Kyoya could not see the differences. On the surface, she seemed like every other woman there, other than her independent, rational approach to things that he liked. For one moment, he wondered if this was indeed Haruhi, as she was one of the few people who could say that. But no, his mind said quickly, this could not be Haruhi. She did not enjoy wearing such outfits, and she was not comfortable with or aware of men showing interest in her. This woman seemed to be encouraging him, so he would continue.

The only problem in Kyoya's mind with continuing was the moment when she did find out who he was. If he gave too much of himself away, or of his friends, then the tabloids were liable to talk. That argument held importance for only a short time, though, as his instincts about her told him that she was not the type to kiss and tell. She seemed more like someone he could confide in, which surprised him and ended up making him stay more vague.

"I'm sure we do have things in common, such as the type of people we prefer," he said, indicating him and her.

Haruhi smiled a little at that, saying, "Yes, I think that if we could choose our conversations, we would want it with others who don't jump to conclusions or make a big deal out of every little thing. It's nice to have a normal, rational conversation."

"Agreed. It sounds as though you speak from experience, of having friends who mean well but still do otherwise," replied Kyoya, his eyes crinkling slightly at the thought of Tamaki rushing up to him for this or that.

"All too well. But that's why I appreciate them in my life. They care about me and only want the best for me. It's just hard to meet other men without having my friends want to meet them, or just having others be afraid of me because of who I know," said Haruhi, frustration lacing her later words.

"Is that why you want to be unknown, then?" asked Kyoya curiously. He leaned in and continued, "Because in all my experience, I've hardly known anyone who wants to be unknown. It's an odd concept."

"It's only odd if you were brought up with it seeming odd," said Haruhi good-naturedly, knowing that anyone from the upper echelon would never think like that. "There was a time in my life when I was unknown. But, if I wanted to make it to the place where I am now, I suppose I couldn't have remained unknown. It did happen in the most extraordinary of ways, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I found my friends because of it."

"They wouldn't be friends if they didn't show you how much you matter to them. All show their feelings in different ways, but it sounds as though they agree on one aspect."

"Only when it comes to dating," said Haruhi, shaking her head. "They mean well, but they don't have to worry much. I'm open but uninterested."

Haruhi saw a triumphant grin cross his features, which made her glad. He was not about to give up.

With that information secure, Kyoya felt more than ready to kick up his game. "You're fortunate that you have friends who stop you. Mine won't stop encouraging me to do so. It doesn't work, though; I'm a man who's got very specific taste in women. A type, if you will."

"I'm sure the women of this party bemoan that fact a great deal," said Haruhi fondly, imagining all the girls from Host Club. She tried not to think about the fact that him talking to her so much meant that she fit his type. The way he spoke was highly complimentary of her, and the fact that he did not come right out and say anything was a point in his favor. It was different from most, and yet so satisfyingly familiar in other ways.

"They bemoan, but they still hope," he said, careful to not show any emotion.

Haruhi caught that desire to hide, and did her best to root it out. If he expected her to be interested in him, he had a lot more explaining to do.

"Why do they hope? Do you encourage them?"

"Not at all," he said, putting his hands out in front of himself. "I've never encouraged them, but they do because I'm still single. That one day I'll be forced to marry, and they'll be the lucky girl. But that won't happen, seeing as that's already been decided between my father and me. It's not common knowledge, but I'm independent, just like you."

For several years, there had been talk that Kyoya would have an arranged marriage, but once he went out on his own with his own company and thwarted several attempts of his father to meet suitable women, his father backed off. There was an understanding that his father would still approve, but even Yoshio Ootori knew that Kyoya would only choose someone who would bring merit. Kyoya was just as good as his father at maneuvering things to his benefit.

"It's rare to find that in society here," said Haruhi, truly impressed by Kyoya. She wished all in today's modern society thought like that, but she would take what she could get. "You must receive a lot of support from your friends for you to go outside of your family's influence like that."

"I do," he said frankly. "I don't deserve my friends."

With that newest bit of information, Haruhi allowed herself to think about this mystery man in a different light. Anyone who could say that about their friends and truly mean it understood the value of friendship. His frankness reminded her of Kyoya, in how willing he was to explain himself to her at times when it came to matters of merit, and beyond as their friendship continued into college.

Kyoya had become a confidante to her while in college, just as she had been for him. Certainly, there were still certain taboo subjects, such as dating. That was awkward to talk about your friends like that, and she had been hesitant to talk to him about Hikaru as a result. But after he enquired after her one night, all she had to do was tell him what Hikaru had asked, and Kyoya had stated the facts, of how much Hikaru liked her and would treat her well as a result.

Figuratively, he had pushed her at Hikaru, even if literally, he had held her close as he told her that it was okay to try again with someone else in their friend group, how the world would not end. Their group had remained intact after both break-ups, and no one held it against Haruhi, even Hikaru to everyone's surprise (except Haruhi, as she knew that he had matured, and would not have considered dating him otherwise).

Haruhi had always wondered why Kyoya had never shown interest in her, if it had anything to do with the very thing that he told her would not happen, of breaking up the friend group. But, her rational mind always interjected and said that it was probably because he was not interested in her like that, and that his father had plans for him. She could recall with clarity one night soon after she had started dating Hikaru, when Tamaki had been in a particularly mellow mood. He went on to talk about the fact that his father had had his heart set on Tamaki marrying her, and that had been a point of contention between his family and the Ootoris. He never explained why the Ootoris had been upset, but Haruhi could guess as much, that the arranged marriage should be to someone better known. It would explain why Kyoya dated such important girls while in college.

But, the fact of the matter remained that Kyoya was not at the party, as his signature glasses were nowhere in attendance, since he was abroad on business. There was, however, this intriguing man who understood business well and yet still managed to have good friends in his life. It would be nice to talk to him without all of her well-meaning friends around, and that was what she did.

For the rest of the night, the two continued to chat, as Haruhi wanted to hear more about what his idea of a perfect business was, and she was glad to respond back with her less educated but well-intentioned ideas. At some point, they joined another group, and she was sure that others in the group recognized him. They were very respectful toward him, and even when others tried to discredit him, he was still respectful and rose above the meanness. For her part, Haruhi contributed to the conversation as she could, as well as defended Kyoya on several occasions. It was not until she tried to credit him with having good, caring intentions that a few people gave her odd looks. The mystery man looked so amused by what she said that she was temporarily confused. But, before she could say anything else, Kyoya excused them both upon seeing her narrowed eyes.

"I think we all have good intentions towards others to some degree, but not all of us here are as generous as this lady here and can see beyond what others present. It's food for thought for all of us. May I?"

The music had changed from the fast-paced music of much of the night to something slower. Kyoya was itching to get away before the woman told more of her observations and blew his charade. The easiest and most desirable way was to dance with her, as he could be close to her in the process of getting away. He reached out his hand to her, eyes willing her to say yes, and she met his stare. Then, she nodded, allowing herself to be whisked away.

Once they began dancing, Haruhi started, "Why were you so amused by what I had to say?"

"I didn't think you'd see that," was Kyoya's honest answer, but he continued quickly with,
"I wasn't amused by you and your words. I was amused by everyone else's response to your words. Not many would flatter me with saying I have so many good intentions. Quite the opposite."

"Nothing you've said or done implies otherwise; why does everyone not see it?" asked Haruhi, truly confused.

"Not everyone is as observant as you, H-," said Kyoya, stopping himself before he continued and said Haruhi's name. That would be the fastest way to upset her, to call her by someone else's name. Yes, she did sound a lot like Haruhi in that moment, and he wanted to kiss her for it. If she could see so much and was not afraid to say so, that was someone he needed by his side.

Haruhi was the epitome of all that he wanted in a woman, but she had never looked at him as though she wanted more, not like this mystery woman had been. The only time he thought Haruhi might have wanted more was when she told him that Hikaru was interested in her. That had hurt, but the fact that she was willing to even consider dating again meant that he should encourage her, even if not with him. Surely, if she were interested, she would say so since they were close. That had been the mantra that he had carried with him as he tried to find someone to replace her.

Haruhi tried to figure out why he had stopped himself. Was he afraid of overstepping a line? She hoped not, as she wanted him to be honest with her. She leaned in as they waltzed, trying to get him to continue.

"However what? What were you about to say?"

Inside, Kyoya rejoiced that she assumed and gave him a way out of his blunder. He let his relief show in his shoulders and face, as trying to do otherwise was useless with her. She would know. It was time to consider leaving, as he wanted to talk more with her, without others around to give the wrong impression of him. Better yet, he wanted to tell her who he was. Some part of him was still very afraid of what she would think once she knew his identity.

"However much I wish certain friends and employees of mine were. It would make my job day-to-day much easier to have someone like you around."

Once again, Kyoya was forced to acknowledge in his mind the "what-if" of Haruhi working with him. She would annoy him with all of her observations about him, but he would get so much more done with others with her there. Of that he was certain.

"I wish I could help you with that," said Haruhi matter-of-factly, "but I love my career too much to ever consider doing so."

"You're not the only one to think so, which is rare. Much as I want that kind of dedication, you could never give it to me since it wouldn't be doing what you love," said Kyoya, his thoughts going inward.

"You're doing the right thing by not trying to force me or anyone else into doing something else, of assuming that you know best," said Haruhi, trying to draw Kyoya back to her. His arms had stiffened, but it was the withdrawn, almost longing look in his eyes that had Haruhi trying to reach out to him.

"I keep telling myself that, that I don't know everything when it comes to her," he said finally, looking her in the eye meaningfully. He had been honest that he had a type, but he would be doing her a disservice if he said nothing of what she had to contend with. No one but Haruhi would do.

While that thought send waves of surprise through Kyoya, Haruhi tried to figure out what a she had to do with the conversation. The two were silent for a bit, the dancing stopping with the music, so Kyoya led Haruhi away from the group, still too surprised by the realization to say anything. He was leading this girl on, and she deserved to know. He had to find Haruhi.

Just as he was about to speak, he saw the brown eyes widen, her mouth taking the shape of an "o".

Haruhi immediately said, "Is she the first one you said that to? Does she know how you feel?"

"No," he replied, "she knows nothing. She's oblivious most of the time to such things. But I've cared about her for so long, and pushed her at others because she knows what she needs in her life more than I do. I can't control her, but I want her all the same."

Haruhi looked hard at Kyoya as she thought about her own love life. She knew someone like that in her own life, someone that she cared and worried about. He did what he thought was best for her and pushed her toward men because he could be selfless when it mattered. His conversation was the kind she enjoyed most and had sought out unintentionally tonight. She did have a type: Kyoya.

"Me too," said Haruhi in a monotone voice. "I didn't realize it until now, but I do as well."

"We're certainly fitting company for one another, then. I wanted nothing more than to leave with you and get to know you more, but while I'm still not over her, this won't work. I'm sorry," replied Kyoya, mad at himself.

"No, thank you. You helped me realize something about my life. If there was anything else I could do-"

Haruhi put her hand on his shoulder, to show her support. Kyoya did look up at her for that, and his eyes flickered as he considered something.

"There's one thing you can do. Please tell me your name. One day, we may meet again," he said, his hands reaching out tentatively toward her.

"I'd like that," said Haruhi. "The party is ending anyway. Why don't we remove each other's masks and then see if we don't recognize one another? We can tell names if not."

Kyoya nodded his agreement and reached for the back of the woman's head, where the string was. As his hands cupped the back of her head and touched her hair, Kyoya felt a similar tingling sensation go through his palms as always happened when he touched Haruhi. The hair felt exactly the same, as well as smelled the same.

Kyoya made the realization at the same moment as Haruhi, because she could always tell who a person was based on how they touched her. Her father squeezed her with all the love he could for his precious girl, tight but meaningful. Tamaki simply put everything in, little heed for who it was. Hikaru was deliberate in his embraces, too much practice from the brotherly love act to be casual.

Kyoya, on the other hand, had always been different. She could recall most times that the two of them had touched or embraced since it was rare, but the time she remembered best was the first time he had touched her hair, so deliberate like Hikaru, but tender as he seemed to fluff it. Each time afterward that he did touch her hair, it always felt like that, tender and meaningful. It was not an empty pat like Mori, but more a caress, meant to savor the moments between them, small and hidden as they were.

As the lightbulb turned on, so did the blinders seem to fall away from their eyes, both blinking even as Kyoya's hands remained entwined in the hair he so loved to feel. Finally, Kyoya lifted the string up, allowing the mask to fall down, and Haruhi placed her hand on Kyoya's cheek. The faces felt the same, and the eyes had to be the same. She lifted the mask off of Kyoya's face, and both stared at one another.

When Haruhi saw the growing tenderness in his eyes, she put two and two together about who he had been talking about.

"Why did you never say anything? I didn't think you were interested," she said, grabbing his chin.

"I thought you would. I learned long ago that you were your own woman."

"I didn't realize it until just now, when you confessed your feelings for me, that I was interested in you. Are you sure you want someone like that in your life?" she said seriously.

"It's always been you. You're just my type."

Haruhi looked like she wanted to protest, so Kyoya stopped her and kissed her. It was not under the best of circumstances, but it felt good to finally taste her, to enjoy what he had always wanted. Haruhi was able to decide that his kisses were slightly better than the way in which he touched her hair, as he pushed and savored that kiss. After that thought, she was lost to coherent thought, wanting nothing more than to kiss him more and feel the rush, the desire that was palpable in his movements.

After that, the two left together, seeing as they had just made exhibitions of themselves in public without intending to, but at least there would be no doubt that they were together. They headed to their friends at Honey's home, to tell them the good news hopefully before social media could.

Later on, Haruhi would wonder why she had not seen Kyoya's desire sooner, but seeing as she had been so blind when he did not have glasses on, then allowances could be made for something that he had tried much harder to hide.

Kyoya would continue to kick himself for not seeing the signs earlier that it had been Haruhi the whole time, but at least subconsciously, he knew. He had gone to her at first sight, just as he knew he would. He did not know when she had grown out and dyed her hair, or for that matter, had become more aware of male attraction toward her. But he was glad she had, and that she was so understanding.

Both had come into the masquerade with no hope or expectations, with a lot of misconceptions about the other. But, even love can break through assumptions and misunderstandings, and sometimes it just takes a new perspective (or mask) to see what was always there to begin with.

~~~~~-KHKHKHKHKHKHKHKHKHKH-~~~~~

Author's Notes: The song used as inspiration here is a little more upbeat than the story, as it got a little heavy at the end. But, what else do you expect when you have cases of mistaken identity? If you know the song, I hope you caught the references to it. I racked my brain trying to think of reasons why they would not recognize one another after so much cosplay together, so I hope this made sense. Happy late Halloween, and thanks for all your support! I really appreciate it. You've all been great after the last two one-shots, and you can expect one more out of me for Kyoya's birthday before I head back to my main KyoHaru story. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!