I do not own Hyouka nor any of the Anime/Light Novel's Affiliates

Haunting green eyes peered out from beneath willowy wisps of messy brown hair, following the pages of a book as they were turned by long, almost disinterested fingers. Alone in the clubroom, Oreki slumped his shoulders forward as he absorbed the story one word at a time. It was certainly dense, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Since joining the Classics Club, he had undergone something of a metamorphosis. Its results were not immediately apparent, of course. Visually, he was no different. He carried with him the same air of dismissive laziness - propositions of the unnecessary still prompted a scowl. But, very occasionally...

Oreki would take the initiative. Jarringly out of character as it was, he allowed himself to be 'victimized' by Chitanda's whims. He convinced himself this was due to a number of vague and increasingly puerile reasons, but the truth of the matter could not be kept a mystery for long. The boy was in love.

And love, as everyone who has ever been in it knows, exerts its prey.

Oreki had been plagued by restless nights, where swathes of hypnotizing purple wrapped his brain too tight to think. He felt as though trapped at the bottom of an immense sea, undying yet fit to struggle for eternity. Pearl-mouthed clams clapped at his feet as bubble after bubble flit from his mouth, teasing him with their freedom.

He would come to in the morning, half-lucid, and beat back a strong urge to scream at the unfairness of it all. The one thing he cherished so dearly had been stolen away: sleep. More than anything, Oreki felt overwhelmed. More than ever, he had been imbued with purpose. Peace of mind would only return when his task was complete.

Chitanda,

I want to meet with you privately in the Classics Club after school during the regular time. I've taken precautions - we will be alone.

Houtarou

This is what the note read, verbatim. It was impersonal. It was stiff in its language. It was slipped between the pages of Chitanda's notebook as Oreki distracted her with an impassioned speech about the joys of late night television. And so he found himself waiting, scanning the pages of his book to quell the churning in his stomach.

Every second he invented a new excuse, a fresh way to weasel out of his current situation. In less frequent intervals, Oreki reassured himself. His calm expression was belied only by a twitch in his upper lip that came and went in spells, accompanied by a cough or two. Or three. Nervous: that's what he was.

'I can still save myself the embarrassment,' Oreki figured, chewing the wall of his cheek. 'I'll improvise some nonsense mystery, tell her that's the reason I left the note. But that would be dishonest, and take effort. On top of that, it wouldn't make any sense.' He swept a hand through his untidy hair, coping badly with this foreign stress.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about? - Oreki?"

It delivered a shock to his system, to hear her voice. He seized up, jaw clenching in anticipation of what was to happen next. This was counterintuitive, seeing as though he needed it loose to properly speak. Steeling himself, Oreki inhaled - it was a drawn-out, deep breath that seemed to trouble Chitanda. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, no doubt made uncomfortable by her classmate's odd behaviour.

"Yeah, about that," he mumbled into his neck, cursing whatever cupid possessed him to take action in the first place. "Uh, so," Oreki stammered.

In no time at all Chitanda had strode to his side, her open expression one of unsuppressed curiosity. Surely whatever her 'second-in-command' had difficulty saying warranted her full attention.

"Tell me ~ tell me!"

Oreki's blush went unnoticed. He gazed up at her inquiring eyes, paralyzed, mortified, his swimming head full of malformed flotsam and jetsam that refused to coalesce. Intense lilac fought a winning battle against startled jade - the colors nearly overlapped before Oreki rose from his seat and retreated a step.

"There's something I haven't been able to figure out," he began, surprised by his own fluency. He might have pressed on, if not for Chitanda's interruption.

"And you came to me?" She asked, a dazed lilt to her falsetto voice.

"You're the only one I could come to, considering..." Oreki replied.

"Considering?"

His lips parted wordlessly as he failed to articulate his mile-a-minute thoughts. A fish out of water, visually and metaphorically, Oreki felt like sinking into nothingness. He would become dust, he rationalized. And dust had it easy - it never dealt with the pressures of romance, or conflicting emotions.

"Oreki?"

His heart thumped, "Chitanda," his fingers tingled, "I like..." why was his mouth so dry?

- "You."

Silence. The open window allowed outside noises to bleed into the room: the distant din of friendly conversation, a coach's spirited shouting...

Oreki squared his jaw and furrowed his brow.

They say the first love is always unrequited.

But what the hell do 'they' know?

"I've fought with myself, I've tried so hard to spare you from having to hear this. And I'm tired. I..." He swallowed, lidded eyes cast downward. "I know that's no excuse, it hasn't been for some time now," he continued wistfully. Suddenly, a wick within him caught fire, his speech growing more heated with each passing syllable. "I had never been passionate about anything in my life, so you showed me the passion in yours. It changed me, I've changed. And now this is the result: a rambling idiot without a backbone. So thanks, because I'd rather be a rambling idiot than one who can't tell what's in front of him. And that's you."

Oreki grit his teeth and, with frenzied finality, exclaimed:

"Chitanda, I love you!"

…

She paled.

The next moment found her face buried in the fabric of his school uniform, her excited hands clutching at his back. Taken off-balance, Oreki propped his arm against the table at his waist and caught himself. A minute passed. Then another.

When Chitanda released him, his smile mirrored hers.

That night, and for many nights to come, Houtorou Oreki slept sound.

I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) Reviews are always welcome, welcome, welcome ~