It wasn't the atmosphere of the ball, it was her thoughts, repeating in the back of her mind as she stepped into the large hall. He could be there. He will be there. He is there. He is here. He is standing across the hall. Shaking her head clear of thoughts, she decided it better not to dance with anyone tonight. Inside the clutch that was being strangled by her grip, her cell phone vibrated. It made her tired. She could only imagine the words her ringtone would blare over and over again if she actually decided her phone would serve her a purpose tonight. Quickly, she opened her clutch and slid the phone into the pocket of her dress, zipping it closed. She knew to keep it with her. She handed her cardigan and clutch to the doormen, taking the ticket that would allow her to retrieve her items.
Staring at the scene happening before her, she watched as the twins - Hitachiin, if she remembered correctly - coddled Haruhi like protective brothers. A smile twitched her lips, but in the end they remained in a straight, taut line. Kyoya Ootori was on his phone as Tamaki Suou complained about something. Mitsukuni Haninozuka and Takashi Morinozuka stood there off to the side, Mitsukuni actually offering something to the conversation, while Takashi stood there, stoic as ever. Huffing a sigh, she looked around her, arms folded across her chest.
"Why am I here?" she muttered to herself, standing off to the side to stare out the window.
"You know, I could ask myself the same thing." As she stared at his reflection, she noticed how he repeatedly fixed his glasses, and how his voice was hit with a tinge of... something.
"Ootori. You run the club. You are politely obliged to be here," she reminded him easily. She didn't turn to speak to him, and she could see a slowly pulsating vein appear on his temple. Spinning towards him, she smirked, catching the last second of his scowl. "And as it seems, you are obliged to dance with the girls that ask. It is not in a host's nature to make a girl sad, now is it?" Easily gliding away, she gave him a fox-like smile over her shoulder.
"Well as that may be, I am also allowed to ask others. Would you say yes if I asked for this dance?" He put on his most charming smile. For her. But she didn't want a Prince Charming.
Holding her hands behind her back, she gave him a good, hard look and replied exactly what she was thinking, "I would only dance with an Ootori, if I saw his real smile, in reply to mine." Giving a genuine smile, she tapped her bottom lip, smile slowly fading. "Ah, and Ootori? I know a genuine smile when I see one."
He watched her strut away, unzipping a pocket and pulling out a phone. With her back to the window, he saw the alerts on the screen; saw her lips move to a frown, silently mouthing the words she saw on her screen.
"Eleven missed calls. Twenty-five text messages." Erasing them, she set her phone to silent and threw it in her pocket, zipping it up, only for her to forget about it for the rest of the night.
He watched from his spot on the dance floor as she effortlessly waltzed from one boy to another, each time deliberately ignoring him. Once, she strut past him, and the scent of her floral perfume overwhelmed his senses. Mixed with the watermelon shampoo that graced her auburn locks, it was intoxicating. He had to try his hardest to not follow her. But soon it was time to put the plan in action and he could only give her one more glance before he dismissed himself from his current partner.
That was the only time she decided to look back at him. His eyes spoke for him. She merely shrugged and gave him a small smile.
Maybe another time, her smile said.
His eyes - to her - merely read regret.
As they returned to the dance floor for the last two songs for the night, he watched, the glare of his glasses hiding his eyes, as a gray-eyed beast asked the beauty to dance. Of course he knew about the Beast, but watched as she merely nodded no, and stared at him.
Smile for me, her eyes begged. But he turned away, and she closed her eyes, not willing to give into the Beast. Politely excused herself, and pulled her phone from the pocket which she quickly unzipped, summoning her ride. Giving the ticket to the doorman, she grabbed her cardigan and quickly tugged it on and recieved her clutch as politely as possible for her. But there was a feeling in her throat and a tugging in her stomach and a sting in her eyes that made her want to run out of there dramatically. But no - she isn't that kind of person.
He watched as she exited the dance hall, and felt a tugging at his heart and a fire in his stomach and a feeling in his eyes. He could feel their eyes on him as they all directed their attention to her retreating form. Maybe he should have smiled for her. He had never felt this in his stomach before.
The following week, in homeroom, he attempted to catch her eyes as they usually would when nobody would notice, but she did not dare give him a second glance. Not even in the electives would she return his stares. She would only nod in recognition if he attempted a hello. He felt that familiar feeling in his eyes and that familiar tugging at his heart and that familiar fire in his stomach. He was sure King had noticed. He had been neglecting his duties at the host club. He was not one to. King knew so. King and he had been friends for years. But King would be the last person he told.
The last day of the week, one of her friends dragged her to Music Room Three in order to relieve her of her sore mood. He tried to speak to her. Tried harder than anything he had ever tried for. Her friends gushed over it in front of him. She merely tossed him a cold smile and said, "Ootori. I happen to be late for my flight. Do you have anything to say before I leave?"
"Plane?" was the word that spluttered unevenly from his lips. Everyone stared. He had never been drawn down to a level like this before.
"You didn't tell him? Ah, so typical of you." Her friend smiled graciously to him as she walked away, finding the window more appealing. "I apologize, Kyoya. I was trying to lift her mood before she flew back to America. She said she has no reason to stay here, so she decided to return home."
King stared at him wordlessly. Knight and Rook stared as the Pawns decided that their shoes were suddenly the most interesting thing they had ever seen. Soon-To-Be-Queen pitied him, and stared at her. But her senses had long sense closed as she enveloped herself in a comforting silence. King's court slowly excused themselves. Her friend also did. She attempted to be lost in the frenzy as well. She succeeded.
He felt like his relationship with her was like gripping dry sand.
As hard as you tried to keep it within your fist, it ended up falling and just becoming unidentifiable among all the rest. But a part of you acknowledged that part of that sand was once in your hand. In your posession. In your mind.
He thought about that as he stood with his feet in the temperate waters of the gun of America. Maybe the Queen choosing to come here for a year was not such an unruling decision. It gave him more time to stay from his house and decisions, and let his mind wander to last year. Every head of auburn that passed his eye caught his attention. None had the same look as her's. Eventually he saw her. He knew she lived here. Seeing her was no surprise. But how he saw her was what startled him the most. Her hair was in a messy bun and her body covered by an extremely revealing swim suit. He hated the looks every man would give her as she walked by. She strut by him and she, behind her large sunglasses, saw his startled face as she stopped to acknowledge him.
"Ootori," she greeted. "How have you been?" Her Japanese had become rusty. She spoke slowly, agonizingly.
"Well. And you?"
"Chip dandy," was her reply. "Oh, and your English... It's become incredibly fluent. I expect no less from an Ootori." She shifted her bag on her shoulder, and stared into the waves, as King, Queen, the Pawns, Knight and Rook waved to her. As warmly as possible, she waved back, shoving a smile onto her face. From their distance, they wouldn't be able to tell the authenticity of it.
They all quickly came to shore, overwhelming her with questions and comments and compliments.
One struck him though.
"It's nice to see you in person again. I mean the pictures of you and your family were nice and all, but they don't have the same sarcasm as you."
It was Knight.
Her fox-smiled curled her lips. "It's nice to see you in person, too, Takashi. It seems like forever since I last saw all of you. Thank you for the presents, though. I owe you all."
"Well how about you..."
"... kiss and make up with Shadow King over there?"
Pawns. Shadow King wanted to reach out and feed them to the sharks.
"Ootori and I are friends." Her voice was incredibly forced. It sounded like, "lielielielielielielielielie," to Shadow King. But he didn't comment. Nobody else did, even though they heard the same thing.
A group of men waved over to her, calling her name.
She made her goodbyes. When it came to Shadow King, she smiled ruefully. He pulled her to the side, so they could make it private. Beast was over there.
"Ah. Beauty and the Beast?" he questioned.
"I'm obliged to be with them. Parents get in the way of everything, don't they?" Beauty's eyes were sad. Shadow King didn't enjoy that, but he pursed her lips as words bubbled from Beauty's lips, not seeming to have an end - not that he cared. "I don't like them... I like Tamaki, Haruhi, Kaoru, Hikaru, Mitsukuni and Takashi." When Beauty forgot his name, all too familiar feelings arose. "Sometimes, when I go to the green house at my school and see all the flowers that the club used, it makes me realize how stupid I was to leave. I missed everyone, but I had struck a rare deal with my father. If I found a romantic interest, then I could stay. Of course he would send me to Ouran. 'Blue blood should not mix with red,' he would tell me. In honesty, I was always holding my tongue. I always wanted to say, 'But blue and red make purple, father. Wouldn't mother love that?' But I know how sore of a spot that is.
"Ah, sorry about rambling, Ootori. You should probably get back to your friends and I should get to... mine." Beauty stared at him sadly, even though a smile still touched her lips.
"You are like sand," Shadow King concluded aloud.
Beauty turned towards him as he continued. "As hard I try to keep my grip on you, you slowly trickle away anyways. And even though sometimes I think, 'What is the point about obsessing over something like that,' I always go back and grab another handful in the hopes that maybe, this time I can keep you. I never want to confine you, but the thought always crosses my mind. 'It's the only way to keep you.' But sand is not meant to be kept - it is meant to stay with nature. I think though, that I could create you into a beautiful piece of glasswork. Fragile, but worth all the effort."
Beauty laughed at this. Shadow King could not decipher whether the sound bubbling from her lips was grateful or harsh. "Maybe I am like that. Maybe I am waiting for someone to see my potential. Maybe I am waiting for someone to come along and help me reach it. I don't know." Beauty shrugged easily, looking at him. Green eyes clashed with black.
"I know." Shadow King confessed. But Beauty took it the wrong way.
"I'm glad someone else understands. Thank you, Ootori. That makes me think that, maybe, we could have had something. You know?" Beauty's head cocked to the side as she gave him a genuine smile. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she gently nudged him towards his friends. "You should get back to them. Good bye, Ootori. Maybe our paths will cross again."
He turned to leave, but not before she stopped and wheeled around to look at him. He did the same. "Ootori?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"Do you really think -"
"Ootori. Did you ever hear that saying, 'If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it was meant to be.'" She didn't actually ask him. It was rhetorical. She had told him the quote.
"How could I have not?" His smile was rueful. Agony rushed through his veins.
"Then let us wait and see."
"How many years will it be?"
"Who knows. Maybe then you'll be married, like your fa-" She cut herself off and turned away, walking to her friends. "Good bye, Ootori. Memories are meant to be remembered."
As she walked away, he noticed he had stopped listening to what she had said, the drumming in his ears too loud for him to hear.
"Congratulations, Ootori." He looked into the mirror as he straightened his tie. He got those feelings, again. The ones he thought he lost all those years ago.
"Thank you. Are you attending the wedding?"
"Hn." Her eyes were amused, but her lip did not move. He felt the familiar rush of agony as he watched her place a present on the table closest to the door. "Maybe I'll attend a baby shower if you ever decide to reconnect with us yourself and come to a high school reunion party. You know that's why no one else is attending, Ootori. Not even Tamaki. Pushing people away isn't the solution." He turned around and she looked him straight in the eye. "But I guess they were right... You are selfish." Spinning around, she exited the room, slamming the door shut.
He stumbled over to the present. Opening it, he found a wallet, with writing stitched onto the front.
"'If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it was meant to be.' We're waiting, Ootori."
As he stood at the altar, he watched as his bride was walked down the aisle, even though he knew she was not the one he loved. Her, the girl sitting in the back pew, feeling those same sensations from back in high school, was the one he loved. But he watched every grain of hope fall to the floor as the vows were said and the deal was sealed with a kiss. The soft sound of sand hitting the ground echoed softly. Nobody thought much of it except for him, who watched the sand trail after the women he loved, rubbing her hands to get every last grain of sand off her hands.
He looked at the cards later, which he dug out.
'Ootori,
If you're reading this then one of us had the balls to attend your wedding. You built her up, only to see her fall. She told us all that quote, and tried her hardest to believe it true. After two years we all stopped believing. But she never gave up on you, you know. She had faith. Scratch that first sentence. If you're reading this, then she attended the wedding, and left. She was depressed once you stopped keeping in contact with all of us. Haruhi kept telling her that you are the Shadow King. But she'd always say, "No, he's a prince, hiding in regret. A lot of them tend to do that." Why'd you do that, Kyoya Ootori. Why did you build her hopes up so high. Did you do that just to see how far she'd fall? What happened to everything, Ootori.
Suou Tamaki'
'Dumbass,
I guess she went to your damn wedding if you see this. Unforgiveable.
Morinozuka Takashi'
'Shadow King,
Looks like the name was right. We all fell apart for a few years when you stopped talking to us. It was bad. She was hurting so bad. I hated seeing her face light up at an email. She hoped so sorely that it was you. I hated seeing her hope everytime she went to get the mail. Kaoru almost got to her. I could've helped her if you hadn't clouded her mind. She wouldn't accept anything negative about you. You're taboo in conversations now. We decided it better not to bring you up. Mori and her got close, though. We know he likes her. Maybe after this she'll understand that Mori can heal her. Who knows. Maybe this damage is irreversable.
Hitachiin Kaoru
Hitachiin Hikaru'
'Heartless.
Suou Haruhi'
'I don't really have that much to say. Just that I expected more out of you.
Haninozuka Mitsukuni'
"Ootori,
If I got the chance to actually speak to you:
1) We missed you. A lot. I never gave up hope.
If I didn't:
2) Our relationship is like sand. Turned to glass then broken into shards - irreversable."
He stared at the cards, then jolted out of his stupor as his phone's shrill ring filled the silent air.
"Hello?"
"Ootori. Congratulations." Her voice.
"I read your card and -"
"Mm. I guess they were all right about you." He heard someone calling her from the background. "I'm coming, Mori!" Her voice was softer. She had pulled the phone away from her mouth.
"I'm sor -"
"I'm not. It just shows me that to some people, money does matter more than happiness." After a long pause, she added, "Flip the card."
The dial tone rang in his ears.
Flipping over her card, he read it.
"If our relationship was like sand, then there are still pieces of it left on your hands."
Then he remembered how when she walked out, she rubbed every last grain of sand off her hands.
Only he would be left with it.