There...
used to be a graying tower
alone on a sea
He watched her, as she went about her hosting duties, and serving the customers and the others tea and cakes, in-between.
Each smile. Each action. Watching her conversations. For quite some time now, he had been observing Haruhi closely, both fascinated and intrigued at the way doing so affected him.
For the most part, he had always been careful not to drop his guard, not to get too close. Haruhi had a way of getting under your skin, to look at you, and see what lay underneath the layers, the walls you built up to protect yourself from others, and he was dead set on not allowing her to affect him, the way the others had.
More than anyone, he knew the consequences of someone else invading a person's privacy. Wasn't he one of the most well-informed people in Japan?
He was Ootori Kyouya, and he was not the sort who would allow someone personal, intimate knowledge of who and what he really was.
His interest in people was limited to their usefulness-save for a handful, (his sister. the host club. very few people, really.)-he was willing to admit-but as fond as he was of Haruhi, it was all he could allow himself to feel for her.
And it wasn't just Haruhi, as much as he accepted-even enjoyed the club and it's members, about the closest anyone's ever been into his personal space would be Tamaki.
Tamaki who had been the catalyst that allowed him to crack, enough to reveal a small part of the darkness inside him.
Just a little bit...and then there was her.
And as days passed by, he was a little disconcerted and troubled to find that while she thought she was able to see into him, not only did he not disabuse her of this notion, he carefully exploited this belief, by acting uncharacteristically nice, at the most opportune moments, just to further establish it.
It was his desire to cultivate this mistaken idea of hers, that brought him to this.
A little bit more vigilance in keeping Haruhi, emotionally, at arms' length.
He remembered her comment about him being 'nice.' He almost laughed.
But, the girl did have interesting ideas.
Or so he told himself.
You...became
the light of
the dark side of me
Was he really nice...if he was doing it to catch her attention? For her to think better of him, maybe even spark her interest? If she knew he was purposely showing her his rude, arrogant, mercenary self, only to bring to light all the positive things he would then do, would she still think him 'nice' ?
Oh, no. As expected, he had chosen to do so, due to it's personal merit: gaining her favor.
And it bothered him. This need, this desire to have her look at him differently. And with this realization came the knowledge that for all the pushing he seemed to do, he, himself would counteract it somehow, in order to, hopefully, make her think better of him.
Somehow, he may still have his real self hidden from her, but it didn't mean he was successful in keeping her out.
WIth a start, and a great deal of dismay, Ootori Kyouya had to admit it. For all his efforts, she had managed to get to him, too.
And it was her influence on him, that made him do the strangest things, just to gain her approval, and maybe a measure of her affection.
Love remained
a drug that's the high
not the pill
And now, this strange feeling, this emotion that seemed to wash over him, with a thought of her. A glance. A touch. Hearing her talk or laugh. Even the memory of it. The feeling that resulted, each time he is reminded of her...gave him a positive feeling, yet he knew all of it was merely a by-product. It wasn't the actions itself that was the stimuli. Another person's action, and he could care less, but Haruhi?
Haruhi. It was Haruhi that made it different.
But did you know
that when it snows
my eyes become large and
the light that you shine
can't be seen
And yet, as much as she was able to affect him, it did not completely change his nature.
He was still Ootori Kyouya. He was still ambitious, arrogant, and a lot of other things better left unmentioned.
Things he would never, never allow her to see.
If things continued the way they did, she might possibly find a way into his heart, but it didn't mean he would change, or more correctly-could change completely.
Whatever happened with Haruhi, what moved and made Ootori Kyouya who he was, would remain.
Shadow King. Demon Lord. Oh, how aptly these names describe him.
The real him, beneath.
Baby, I compare you to a
kiss from a rose on the grave
Whatever Haruhi thought of him, was only true, after all, within what he allowed her to see. What he allowed her to believe. It was only true when it mattered.
In other words, it wasn't permanent, but merely him, humoring her.
Ooh, The more I get of you
The stranger it feels, yeah.
And everytime he did, while he felt nothing at all for the help he did for some person, or doing some good deed, what made him feel good was the smile she gave him for it.
Somehow, he still wasn't quite used to it. He wondered if he ever would.
But it was serving it's purpose. Though she had her misgivings about him on certain things, she was beginning to trust him little by little.
And that was what mattered.
Now that your rose is in bloom
Ootori Kyouya was most certainly not a nice man, despite the nice things he might do. And he sincerely hope she didn't notice his motivation in doing so.
He could just imagine how Haruhi would use that to her advantage, like find a way to use it to get out of her debt. (Not that he thought it possible. For one thing, an indebted Haruhi assured him a measure-a very huge one, in fact-of influence over her. Then again, it didn't mean she-or some other person-couldn't find some other way to make that tiny bit of information useful.)
A light hits the gloom
And though the others say nothing, they notice it, too. This almost imperceptible change in their so-called "Mother".
Of the grave.
They obviously valued their lives, and would not put it past him to make them suffer for their daring, should they even voice out this should-be-treated-as-insignificant detail.
No. While the Twins, did smile knowingly, out of his line of vision, no one said a thing about it...especially not to Haruhi.
There is so much
a man can tell you
so much you can say
She gave him a smile, catching him looking at her. He did not smile back. He knew she wasn't really sure it was her he was looking at. His glasses were reflecting light, at the moment, but she smiled, anyway. Just in case. He could almost feel the corners of his lips twitching, but with a little effort, he was able to retain a passive expression.
He pushed up his glasses, just to make sure he was able to cover his face.
He wondered what she would see, if she looked into his eyes...without the glasses. More than anything, it was what gave him away. And while his control over the expression on his face was near-perfect, every now and then, his eyes would betray his state of mind-hence the glasses.
Then again, she had already seen him without them...but instead of reading the expression in them...she had chosen to believe what experience had taught her about him...that nothing moved him, but merit. And because of her naivete, she never considered that his sleeping with her would give him the merit of physical satisfaction.
Immense physical satisfaction, to be sure. Yet, because he wanted her to believe what she wanted to believe-to the point of thinking him nice, for playing the bad guy for Tamaki's sake, to drive a lesson home, he did not do what it was he really wanted to do, and instead, left Tamaki to deal with her, because he didn't want to change his mind, and ruin whatever usefulness this innocence in her might provide.
There would be time enough to educate her in certain things, when the opportunity was ripe.
And while that was what he had decided, he still wanted to kick himself.
You remain
my power, my pleasure
my pain. (baby)
He shouldn't have preached. He shouldn't have propositioned her. He should've just kissed her, and continued from there. To run his palm over her soft warm flesh, to hear the sounds of pleasure, that the right touches and caresses in the right places, he knew she'd make (if her appreciation for food was anything to go by), to further solidify his claim to her.
So he wouldn't feel so uncomfortably, uncharacteristically jealous. It was certainly a feeling he did not enjoy.
And as efficient as it was to use her to manipulate the others to the ends he required, he both hated his weakness in allowing her this much effect on him, as well as her for being the cause of it-however unconsciously.
To me you're like
a growing addiction
that I can't deny
For him to lose such a degree of control that
he couldn't extricate the matter of Fujioka Haruhi out of him, that he would feel the need to hear her, see her, touch her-no matter how briefly-or seemingly innocent...to desire to be her absolute, unable to accept a position in her life no lesser than it (in the future, perhaps.)
Who would've thought it possible?
Won't you tell me,
Is it healthy, baby?
Some would call it an obsession, however well he hid it. But he was Ootori Kyouya, and his very resourceful nature had so far ensured he got everything he wanted.
It had spoiled him to a degree. And now, he wanted, coveted Fujioka Haruhi.
And he wasn't about to be denied. Somehow, some way, he would find a means to get closer...until she belonged to him.
Maybe this constant observation of her would show him a way around her gratingly oblivious nature when it came to certain things.
Some would call it an obsession. How rude. he was merely driven. In the same way he felt the need to succeed.
That's what all good businessmen believed.
But did you know
that when it snows
my eyes become large and
the light that you shine
can't be seen
Ah, yes. he would resort to any and all measures, to ensure Fujioka Haruhi reciprocated his affection. Mostly, without her realizing the measures he would take.
Then again, (he thought, chuckling to himself a little) it was something she knew she shouldn't put past him, anyway.
Then again, he, more than anyone knew the difference between having an idea, and knowing for certain.
Haruhi, with her no nonsense attitude would probably not cotton to the idea of being manipulated...right away.
She knew he could and did do it-manipulate her, them. She wouldn't put it past him.
For such a seemingly normal person, though, thankfully, Haruhi was more or less a person who reacted according to her mood.
And if she found him out in one of her lazy moods, and didn't really feel like getting pissed, there was a pretty good chance he'd be let off with little to no consequence.
Really. with that debt of hers, what consequence could she stick him with anyway?
While she might find out what exactly it was he was about, there was no way she would guess into his motives, or be bothered by it. That was one of the quirky things that both irritated, or amused him, depending on the situation. Such was the complexity of her obliviousness.
Baby, I compare you to a
kiss from a rose on the grave
The only difference is, despite her knowing the kind of person he usually was, she accepted him anyway.
Only...she didn't know how deeply this trait was ingrained on him. Nor did she know the limits he had imposed. She was merely counting on his alleged 'good side' to restrain his more...natural instincts. As well as other previously mentioned factors.
Yet, although it would be more useful to have her believe in the "kindness" he lets her see in him, what he truly wanted was a real victory.
For her to love him, knowing what and who he really was.
But for now, he needed her to have a better opinion of him.
Ooh, The more I get of you
The stranger it feels, yeah.
And so...he lets her. Every now and then.
Mind you. Only every now and then. On rare moments she would not expect it, thereby giving it more meaning.
For the life of him, he still couldn't get used to it. That smile she rewarded him with, whenever he did.
Now that your rose is in bloom
That, maybe for the first time, he could step a little into the light-for a short period of time-just to see if he could enjoy it.
A light hits the gloom
These short moments he pretends to be...a better person.
Although the truth was, one of the few people he would ever allow a measure of kindness for...was Haruhi.
Of the grave.
An admission that not even a root canal, not any unpleasant kind of stimulation can extricate from him.
I've been kissed by a rose on the grave
That she would inspire such a thing out of him was already a miracle.
And if I should fall along the way
For him to actually feel something of this nature...he could admit that it was not a possibility he had ever entertained, at this point, at this age-if ever.
I've been kissed by a rose on the grave
And while there were moments in the past when he had cursed and reviled and despised this feeling, this weakness she had inspired into him...he had found a way to twist this emotion to better suit him, and the kind of person he really was.
After all...he was Ootori Kyouya.
There is so much
a man can tell you
so much you can say
He was a man who turned disasters into opportunities. And the moment he remembered this small detail, he had begun to tune this energy, this emotion, into something tolerable. Pliable. Useful.
So it was that he had slowly but surely begun a campaign to win over Fujioka Haruhi.
And it was paying off. She was already beginning to think better of him. While she did not approve of his methods, she at least suspected him to have reasonable, sometimes positive motives...and she trusted him for it.
In the very least, she knew he would never do anything to cause her any sort of pain that wasn't monetary (what with all that debt-adding he took such pleasure in.)
And why wouldn't he? He could use her debt as a means to hold onto her, as well as profit off her through the host club.
Profit, was not necessarily monetary. Her conduct with the parents and relatives she had hosted, during the school festival were duly impressed, which would indirectly affect their opinion of him. And it also felt good to have other people praising her.
That was unexpected, though.
He had her trust. This was a good way to begin.
you remain
my power, my pleasure
my pain (baby)
So he stopped avoiding his feelings, and found a way to make them useful. He mercilessly utilised her hold on the others, by exerting whatever hold he had on her that he could effectively use, without her resenting it too much. And while bouts of jealousy could be directed usefully by shooting down Tamaki, in his moments of pure idiocy, sometimes-though he would never admit it-he could just indulge himself and just tell the others to back off.
To me you're like
a growing addiction
that I can't deny
Kyouya had always had to fight for what he wanted. his parents' approval, to be heir to the Ootori estate.
This was the first time he really and truly wanted something for himself, more than anything else, like a hunger you couldn't satisfy. An itch you couldn't scratch. A hold you desperately floundered for, in the hopes you wouldn't be swallowed beneath whatever it was you were drowning in.
For someone who was always given and made to earn what he wanted, now that he really wanted something-someone- Ootori Kyouya did not want to share.
Won't you tell me,
Is it healthy, baby?
So he was biding his time. They could do whatever they wanted-for now. But the moment she accepts him, all that face-licking, and near kisses from the twins were going to stop.
And Tamaki had better think twice about trying to hang onto her, also.
But did you know
There was no need to tell her any of this.
that when it snows
There was no need to get so worked up over such a trifling thing...for now.
If it could still be called...trifling.
my eyes become large
Why make it so complicated?
and the light that you shine
To put it simply, in business terms, there was a demand for a particlar supply, and he was going about the motions for that demand to be met.
If you're thirsty, get a picher of water, pour it in a glass, and raise it to your lips, and drink.
can't bee seen?
A concept even a child could understand.
Baby, I compare you to
a kiss from a rose
on the grave
He had stopped wondering when exactly it happened. It already had.
And the reasons were immaterial. There was no specific reason he could point out to, anyway, for him to feel this way toward her, not to mention how pointless it was to look for one, since he already did.
And while they were more similar to each other, than any other host club member, they were also completely different.
And it was this contrast that further convinced him that they would deal well rather nicely.
She would balance him. And he would let her. To indulge her, and when he needed it.
Ooh, the more I get of you
The stranger it feels, yeah.
But, ah, to admit that he was imperfect, that he still needed something to balance him. This, more than anything is the most telling sign, for Ootori Kyouya.
And now that your rose is in bloom
That Haruhi is more than just a product. That she is more than just a whim. A temporary liking. A momentary desire.
A light hits the gloom
That someone so capable and confident such as he would admit such a thing.
Enough to agree that he needed to touch on his humanity...in short rare, moments.
of the grave.
That he would admit she was a very rare sign of life, in what used to be a rather monotonous, single-minded pursuit for achievement.
Now that your rose is in bloom
Kyouya knows it. That Haruhi meant more to him. That she was more than any of those things. Because while he decieves almost everyone-even her, on occasion...he had never deceived himself.
A light hits the gloom
He had always known, though he wanted to deny it. And it showed, to the extent that even his father recognized it, when he said the words,
"He has found something more valuable."
Of the...grave.
in the end, it didn't really change Ootori Kyouya in any big way.
He was still arrogant. He was still manipulative. He still woke up in a horrendous mood, no matter the time he woke up-especially if he woke up too early. Merit still played a considerable role in almost everything he did. And he most especially still enjoyed tormenting Tamaki. (wasn't the best thing about friends the fact that you could be who you really were, with them?)
He was still a cold, calculating, impressive, if not an intimidating sort of man.
It was just that finally...
Finally...
He had found a reason to truly live.