Chapter Text
Kyoya often thinks back on that day that Haruhi came home from the hospital. She fought her way up the stairs, refusing any sort of help until she got to the top.
He just smiled and took her hand, moving her so they could tap into the building and get to the elevator.
When they got to the top, he pulled her close and kissed her, told her he would make them dinner, to leave everything to him.
He still does that now, when he sees that she’s had a rough day, he draws her a bath, pulls her close, kisses her, and she now lets him handle everything until she’s taken a moment for herself.
He thinks back to their talk, every time Yui runs up to Haruhi, now in college herself and following in the footsteps her father wanted her to. Haruhi laughed at how awkward he was explaining his emotions. He cried when she got down on one knee three days later and proposed, because he was sure that his heart - on - sleeve confession would have scared her off.
He doesn’t cry anymore when she tells him that she's his - that she loves him. Because he knows now that his father was wrong - he deserves every ounce of love and respect that Haruhi gives him.
He thinks back to the day she told him she was pregnant with their daughter, now six years old and taking after Mori of all people. He remembers staring at the little hat, knitted in pale rainbow yarn, and asking her if it shrunk. He never expected that little Chizu would stand next to him in the kitchen watching him cut strawberries for french toast, or ask if she could have extra lessons with Tachibana.
And the day Haruhi put Chizu in a shirt that said “I’m the oldest”, Kyoya remembers spinning her around and around until they were both dizzy. Now Hiroki, at three, was starting to say “again” when Haruhi would tell him about the princess who fell in love with the prince she was forced to marry and how Hiroki would sit on Kyoya’s lap when he brought work home and read his massive stacks of books.
He doesn’t wake up at three in the morning anymore and check to see that Haruhi is still there, that their family is not a dream.
He doesn’t regret buying the company out from under his father, letting both his brothers sleep on their couch during their divorces, or handing part of the company over to his sister.
He doesn’t regret moving into a house with Haruhi’s father, helping take care of the only member of Haruhi’s family that she has left.
He doesn’t regret anything.
Especially as he remembered watching his wife walk down the aisle, in her simple wedding dress that still hung in their closet.
Happily ever afters aren't perfect , he would remind Chizu and Hiroki every time they had a fairy tale, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth it .
He would look back at his time at Ouran and kick himself, because she was right there the entire time, if he had just bothered to look.
He told Haruhi that once and she looked at him like he was crazy,
“If I had met you at Ouran, you would have thought I was nothing more than a commoner to utilize.” She sighed.
“Maybe. But think of how much fun we could have had.” He scrambled for an answer.
“You would have had fun,” she put some whipped cream meant for Chizu’s birthday cake on his nose, “I would have thought you were a rich bastard.”
To which Kyoya had no objection.
Yes , Kyoya thought, my happily ever after isn’t perfect. But it’s mine…
and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.