Color My World (Ouran High School Host Club)

Chapter 15- The Fibonacci Sequence

Easing to a sitting position in my hospital bed, I shielded my eyes to block out the bright beams of sunlight; it was a beautiful day, the best morning I'd seen in a while. I tentatively reached a hand to touch my cheek, wincing when the slight contact send a ripple of pain through my body.

Even though I'd been feeling more perky lately, the therapy sessions I regularly attended did little to ease my anxiety. Every night, when I somehow managed to fitfully fall into the embrace of sleep, that night playing over and over in my head, each "everything is your fault" more painful than the last.

Kyoya.

Oh God, he was the last thing I wanted on my mind.

I sighed, still drowsy, when the door creaked open, drawing my attention.

"Ayame?" a familiar voice called out, a little hoarse. "Is that you?"

I couldn't believe my eyes. "Dad?"

My father was unrecognizable in a three-piece suit and polished dress shoes, his hair neatly combed over his head. Looking jittery and uncertain, he rushed forward and held me tightly to him.

"Dad," I murmured, still in disbelief. This was my father? The drunk loser?

"I'm so sorry...can you ever forgive me?" he breathed between sobs, leaning his head against my shoulder.

Anger flared up in my chest. Did he think that after all these years, he could just say "sorry'" and it would be okay? After he practically abandoned me to wallow in a hole of misery just because mom was gone? Who did he think he was?

He let go of me, eyes glistening with tears. "Your friend visited me. He told me that I had an amazing daughter...and that I truly loved her, I would pull myself together to make things right. He impressed very clearly upon me that I was a pathetic father, and that you in no way deserved the life I left behind for you. And then I realized...he was absolutely right. I was so awful to you. I've been trying so hard, Ayame. It's painful to leave the past behind, but...I really want to pick my life up again. The boy...what was his name? Kyo-something."

"Kyoya?" I perked up, my cheeks heating up at the sound of his name.

"That was his name." My father nodded, adding, "Not to mention that he agreed to pay for therapy and regular visits to the rehabilitation center."

"Kyoya...did that for you?" My eyes widened in shock.

"He told me that he wanted the best for you." His lips upturned into a sly smirk. "You've really picked yourself a nice boy, Ayame."

"Um, Dad...it's not like that." I let out a brittle laugh. "It's nothing like that. Kyoya and I are just...friends."

"Now, now, I was just messing with you." He braced his hands in surrender, giving me a bright smile.

I was still unconvinced. "Yeah...sure."

He laughed heartily, tousling my hair. "So when do you get to come home? It's been lonely without you there."

"A couple more days in this hellhole," I paused, before adding wryly, "and I seriously doubt that."

"Just give your old dad a chance, okay?" he sighed, giving me a pleading look.

Deciding to indulge him for once, I leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek, relishing the way his jaw went slack with surprise. "We'll have to see about that."

A day after I returned home, I received my first phone call in what seemed like an eternity. Picking it up on the fourth ring, I twirled the phone cord between my fingers, greeting, "Hey, Haruhi. Something up?"